Anyone that’s given Latinidad any serious thought — even if only in the context of their own heritage and identity — will find that no matter how we define Latinidad, it doesn’t hold up to much scrutiny. Is it defined by a shared colonizer? A geographic designation? A shared language? Not exactly. Yes, we say Latinidad is not a monolith, but it’s still a nebulous concept. While, yes, it represents a relationship,
it does so by distorting many other relationships. If I say I am Latinx, that tells you I am from a not-so-specific part of the world and that my European, Indigenous, and/or African ancestors at some point converged in, were forcibly brought to, or were erased from said part of the world. The term’s very existence erases Black and Indigenous people by affirming the myth that we’re all “a little bit of everything.” At best, it gives you a vague (if often misguided) idea of where I or my family are from. The only thing that binds Latinidad into any one word is the trail of blood the Spanish Empire (but also the French and Portuguese!) left behind. It makes sense then that so many Chicanx, Caribbean, and other peoples have divested from the identity altogether
. Maybe we should let the colonizers have it.