“FAMILY…functional, dysfunctional, uniquely personal.” – Don Riesett, Writing Mentor & Teacher
I’m a massive subscriber to the idea that family is made, not born. The word family has two main definitions, which are the following: the first is a group of one or more parents and their children living together as a unit, and secondly, all the descendants of a common ancestor. My idea of family is different from this notion. I have three families, and only one of them is genetically related to me, although I exclude the majority of them from the title of family. My mom, sister, brother, aunt Brittney, and grandma are my only genetic family. I also have uncles, who are the siblings of my mom, aunt, and grandma, but they’re not family because I don’t feel any familial love or connection. My definition of family is any person or group that I feel a visceral bond or connection with, whether they’re related to me or not.
My other two families are the Rivas’s and my best friend Rashod’s family (they don’t share a surname, so I grouped them by my relation to Rashod). I’ve known Rashod’s family ever since elementary school, and I know them fairly well at this point. I’ve spent somewhere close to a hundred thousand hours with them, sharing experiences and building bonds. They were always there for me whenever I needed them. They’re always kind, and I know that our moms consider both me and Rashod to be their sons. He’s probably my closest brother, and I don’t believe anything can separate us from that bond.
My final family is the Rivas’s, and for obvious reasons. As much as Ruth doesn’t want to accept it, we are a real familia. I’ve been spending several hours everyday with Hector since sixth grade, with Karla since seventh grade, and with Ruth since ninth grade. We’ve done a lot together, and all of our relationships and dynamics are super authentic, and we never fail to have a laugh. We go out pretty often, we’ve spent major holidays together, and our relationship is strengthened by each time we show we’re there for each other. I’ve bought them food, they’ve bought me food; I’ve given them money, they’ve given me money; and they’ve taken care of me, as I have to them. Every time we spend time together, I feel like I’m becoming a little more El Salvadorian. I might even buy an El Salvador jersey, since I kinda feel a connection to the culture. I eat the food, have listened to the music, and become accustomed to some of the media. Each day that goes by, I become an even stronger Mayan warrior. I always make sure that I let them know that I love them, and even if Ruth refuses to accept it, I will assimilate. I’m kinda like the aliens from The Thing in that way.
Now I’d like to explain my reasoning for why I don’t consider my relatives to be family. Evolutionarily, the idea of family is more often than not people who are related to you, but they don’t have to be. The point is that a group is generally more effective than an individual, and if you spend the majority of your life with this group or tribe, you’ll likely interbreed and the later generations will be related. Philosophically, relatives aren’t necessarily someone you share a bond with, and they may not even support you. This renders blood meaningless, as you’re technically related to everyone anyways. It’s also proven true that relatives are less helpful sometimes because of biases, and because of entitlement.
I’m also a pretty critical and analytical type of person, so I examine a lot of the things humans generally consider to be status quo, instead of blindly believing it. Ever since I was little, I questioned the idea that you have to respect someone who happens to be genetically similar to you by sheer chance, and how that makes them different from anyone else. I’ve also grown up in a way that feels as though my existence is a hindrance, which is ironic due to the fact that your parent’s made a decision to make you, and you didn’t make yourself. Why should I necessarily be so grateful for the life that was given to me without my consent, or with me being aware of what the experience entails. The term “Blood is thicker than water” is a poisonous idea, and can often lead to manipulation. I think, as humans, we often forget that the majority of our experiences are based on chance and predisposition but not a divine factor of things being “meant to be.” This is why friendship supersedes relation in my eyes. Would you be more grateful for a faulty home with many flaws and parts that are useless, or a home that you built with your own two hands. One of the attributes of man is that we don’t necessarily have to subject ourselves to what the world around us chooses, but rather to what we make on our own.
Danny Buck
10/18/24
