Amaranta GutierrezMarch 3, 2015The Enemy in the BallroomGrowing up in a old-fashioned culture, a small town with deep roots in religion and a family who tried to maintain a pious reputation, made me wonder if it was sheer deviancy of my personality or the absolute realization, that what had started as a holy religion and pure faith turned, the generations before me, into blind believers of the church; That everything that brought extravagant joy was by means sinful. The generation before my mother, my grandmother or even my great-grandmother, refuged in church for inspiration and hope that their hardship would someday end. It was taught that in order for god to help, one would devote their entire life to church. Attendance of church was not enough, donations to the sacred place had to be made, and prayers had to be done as soon as day peaked, during sunset and before the night ended. God and the church would be the only thing that could bring true joy and happiness without ever indulging in temptation or sin, any other event that brought thrilling excitement or elation was considered debauchery. At that time I developed a love-hate relationship with their teachings. In the eyes of the church, this made me the apostate, a child of the devil, infidel of my community. In the eyes of my older generation I was doomed and heaven would be out of my reach. That worry-some feeling, I can only assume, is what the parents of the young Mexican American teenage girls felt during 1930s, but the girls must have felt what I felt; The constant battle of accepting and rejecting their parents old roots (that had been engraved to them by their church of origin [?*] and the heartache that the old generation saw the new generation lost in temptation.It is not hard to see that religion has always been important in the Mexican culture. In fact one could argue that the religious culture is what gives the essence of being Mexican. It is a colorful festival and it truly does bring joy, but I cannot help myself to think that the Catholic Church poisons that which is beautiful. As I was reading I found the passage that spoke about the hidden temptations of danc[ing] (p. ###). Hidden temptations the church warned the older generation about. I assume the older generation did not abject to these statement, but only the new generation suffered their consequences. Deep in me I feel some sort of resentment for the parents who believed the church that something as harmless as dancing could translate into something sinful and be that of a devils game. Not only did the church warn the older generation that something that brought joy to their children was wrong, also managed to maintain immigrant families segregated and isolated, ignorant to the new world they migrated to. Never frequent fairs, picnics, carnivals, or public dancing halls where Heaven only knows what sorts of people congregate (p. ###) It is no wonder why when one ask a newly immigrant person how they feel in [this] new culture, for the most part they answer they feel lonely---because it is engraved in us to not allow us to enjoy the gifts exotic places brings, heaven wont want us if weve indulged and accepted a new environment. The Enemy in the Ballroom (p. ###) is perhaps the best example I can find that expresses my personal dilemma with the church and the anger I feel towards my older generations for believing the church blindly. [something something]