The Casta Paintings and My Mother’s Quest

by Sabrina Cadiz, Elizabeth Jimenez Fique, and Sydney Tischler

Casta paintings, like the one depicted above, date back to the mid 1700s in Mexico, where they were used as visual “guides” to the names and attributes of offspring of interracial couples. Usually in a series of 16 paintings, each image featured a mother, a father and a child, all of whom had differing racial backgrounds, and a short classification of each person’s racial makeup (shown in this particular photo in the top left corner). Spanish artists were commissioned to paint these sets as a way to further entrench a pre-existing caste system while also responding to the reality of mixed gene pools. During the era in which these casta paintings came to be, Mexico was a colony of Spain, and these works reflected the European racial biases that permeated society. They did not, however, reflect reality in Mexico.

Although the casta paintings were promoted and well known in Mexico, Spanish explorers who traveled in and colonized other parts of the Americas, including Colombia in South America, brought with them their ideas of a racial hierarchy. 400 years after colonization, the lives of people in Colombia were still being affected by the racial classifications created by the Spanish. My grandmother, a descendant of Native Americans, was one of many victims of this belief system. It affected her pursuit of a better life for her future children. She did not need to see any casta paintings in order to understand that the life of a Native American does not have the same worth as the life of a white Spaniard. Relaying an imperial classification system through art, the Spanish maintained a colonial grasp on the social hierarchy, one in which citizens had different privileges and burdens based on the colors of their skin.

In all of these paintings, the white European Spaniards play patronizing roles and are dressed like royalty, maintaining their image as at the top of the hierarchy of racial purity. There were echoes of physiognomic classifications in these artistic depictions as well, with various interracial individuals portrayed with exaggerated, ‘savage’-like features depending on how much they had been ‘tainted’ with black and/or indigenous blood. Mulattos, for instance, who were classified as those with half white, half black ancestry, were often portrayed in images meant to elicit a mixture of both pity and disgust from the masses. Pictured exclusively with dark-skinned mothers and pale, aristocratic fathers (never the other way around), the dominance of “black features” over white in the children was meant to be construed as a physical representation of sin—by begetting this child, a white man was thought to have created a being who was ‘useless’ to his own personal gain—as an heir, a bearer of his name, or someone capable of besting his legacy. Another idea implied by these castes is that these mixed populations, though still black and/or indigenous, could ‘aspire’ to continue this process of ‘purifying their race’ by pursuing this trend of marrying into white families, to better their stature in society as well as to rid them of their coloring, culture, and ‘exotic’ facial features, all of which were was thought to be akin to disease. In other words, there was a sense of social mobility regarding racial hierarchy; a person could move up the ladder after generations and generations of selective mating.

My grandmother was no stranger to these racially-charged beliefs. She was short, with black hair, brown skin, a round nose, dark brown eyes and a great sense of humor. She did not want her children to look like her, because she felt that if they had different facial features, they would have more opportunities in life. My mother told me that my grandma grew up on a ranch taking care of pigs and cows. When my grandma had the opportunity to go to the city, she fell in love with a policeman. He was tall, with brown eyes and brown hair, and most importantly, he was white. My grandma thought that if she was able to have a family with him, their children would have a different complexion than hers—they would be lighter, taller, and with longer noses. Indeed, my grandma got pregnant and a girl was born. She did have skin lighter than her mother’s own, with a different type of nose, and she was a little bit taller. My grandma felt hopeful for a better future for my mother. However, the father left them and went to live in another city. My grandmother took my mother to live on the ranch, where my mother learned how to feed the pigs and milk the cows.

Near their ranch, there was a big house where a gringo family lived. She would sit on the grass far enough away to be able to watch them while they were outside without them knowing. My mom dreamt of one day being able to marry a tall, blond man with blue eyes and white skin so her children would look just like them. Though many men pursued her, they had the same skin color as hers—or darker. She wanted someone different so her children could have a better future. The same hope that my grandmother once had was now on my mother’s mind. Both of them realized that white people were respected, had better jobs, and overall had a better quality of life. By comparing their ranch to the gringo house, it was obvious how society worked—the lighter the skin, the better. At the age of eighteen, my mother met my father, a young man who sold flowers on the street. He was tall, with light curly brown hair, hazel eyes, and white skin. My mom had five children with him. All of their children were taller than my mom, with a lighter skin color and light brown or hazel eyes.

My mother’s quest to change the race of her children, in a way, was a success. What my grandmother and my mother wanted was for their children to avoid the hard experiences of rejection and humiliation associated with looking like a Native American. The goal of the castas was to generate fear and shame for being a race other than white. It was to predetermine how life would it be as someone brown or black, and ensure that it would be incredibly difficult. As a result, many generations down the line were still deeply affected by that ignorance. As my grandmother and mother did, others felt obliged to pursue those who were lighter than them so perhaps some day, their descendants would have the same privilege as Spaniards. Each mother hoped that her child might even become one.

 

Image courtesy Real History World Wide