Abuelito Juanito always wore guayaberas. Although my maternal grandfather, Juan Rodríguez – abuelito Juanito for us – died when I was quite young, I always remember him wearing his white guayabera, either watering his plants or sitting on his wick and caoba (mahogany) rocking chair telling stories.
The origins of the guayabera are a mystery. Nobody really knows where they come from. Growing up, I thought the guayabera was just the traditional shirt for Puerto Rican men. It was not until my young adulthood that I discovered that Cubans and Dominicans also wore the shirt. Moreover, it wasn’t until I met my husband that I learned that the Yucatán peninsula has a long history of guayaberas and that their designs are extremely intricate and quite different than the ones we wear in the rest of the Spanish Caribbean. In my country, jíbaros – peasants from the mountains of the Island, often living in poverty and often rejected by those in larger cities – wear the guayabera with pride. A jíbaro myself, my mom tells the story that when I was a child, I always wanted to wear my “guayabera amarilla” (yellow guayabera) everywhere I went. I guess I just wanted to look like the regal abuelo Juanito.
In Puerto Rico, when I was growing up, wearing a guayabera was a sign of your jíbaro identity and often looked down upon. It was also the preferred shirt for those who advocated for independence. However, sometimes those who support the current Commonwealth status also wear it as if to reclaim their Puerto Ricanness considering their confusing political positions. Amazingly, as time goes by, more and more Puerto Rican youth are embracing the guayabera which gives me great joy.
Puerto Rico has two types of guayaberas: informal and formal. Although the designs are similar, the informal guayabera has short sleeves and you can wear it as a day-to-day piece of clothing. The formal guayabera is long-sleeved and used for very formal occasions such as quinceañeros, weddings, funerals, and the like. When my husband and I planned our wedding, we knew that we were going to wear our respective guayaberas. We wanted to give a nod to our cultures and our Latinidad.
The guayaberas in Yucatán also have formal and informal versions. Their formal guayaberas have intricate stitching with beautiful designs. Once my husband introduced me to this type of guayaberas, I was hooked! Their designs are so beautiful and colorful, that wearing one is a statement in itself. Now my closet has a combination of traditional Puerto Rican and Yucatec guayaberas that I wear often.
When I was appointed to the Governor’s cabinet as the inaugural director of the WA State LGBTQ Commission, I made a promise to myself that I was going to be authentically me. I wanted to bring all of who I am as a gay, queer, Latino Washingtonian with deep roots in the Spanish Caribbean. I also wanted to make a statement: wearing traditional clothing is as professional as wearing a suit and tie. I do enjoy wearing a suit and tie, and I have plenty of those too. But I also wanted to make space for other Latin folk who might look up to me to see that you do not have to compromise your Latinidad to appease the Western or Euro-centric expectations of professionalism. Of course, I had no idea if this was going to work or if anyone would notice. But I was firm on my goals.
Sometime after I started my role in the Governor’s cabinet, I had a younger Latino man visiting with me. He was new to his role with a sister agency. He wanted to introduce himself and explore ways in which our respective agencies could collaborate. I was wearing one of my Yucatec guayaberas that day. We chatted for some time and then he was ready to leave. As he was walking out the door, he turned back and said: “I need to tell you something. I am new, and I wasn’t sure what was considered appropriate business attire at the office. But I saw your guayabera and thought, ‘oh, I can wear my guayaberas to work; they are professional.’”
I told him about my goal of wearing a guayabera to work. I told him I wanted to reclaim our Latinidad by sharing part of who we are as Latin Americans, through what we consider formal attire within our respective cultures.
This was one of the most powerful experiences I have had as a Latino leader in state government. I was so proud of having created the space, even in this little corner, for other Latin American folk to feel like they can be themselves in the workspace. I also hope that others who have seen me wearing my guayabera can also feel liberated and free to come to work as themselves; to wear what is considered professional in their own cultures, irrespective of what the Western and Euro-centric fashion expects. Oh, and lest people think I am advocating for gendered clothing let’s make it clear I am not. Clothes have no gender, and I hope that any Latina, Latino, Latinx, Latiné, and Hispanic person who sees me wearing one, thinks of it as an invitation to wear what is comfortable to you according to your taste, not your gender and what our cultures traditionally expect of us based on it.
More recently, I’ve had the unfortunate experience of hearing others call my formal guayabera an “informal shirt” in the workplace. When this happens, I hope it can be a teaching moment. I hope that I can share how this shirt is not an informal piece of clothing, but rather the most formal and professional expression of my culture in the workplace.
I wanted to share this reflection this Hispanic Heritage Month in the hopes that others can also reclaim their cultures in every place where we are. It is already known that Latin American people in the USA are part of every single part of USAmerican life. We are janitors and cleaners, we are teachers and lawyers, we are farmers and business owners, we are medical doctors and administrative staff, and we are everywhere in the workplace and every industry imaginable. It is my hope that we can authentically show up in every single one of these spaces with pride in our cultures and our roots.
I will continue to wear my guayaberas to work and every place. I will continue to honor my abuelito this way. I will also continue to show others the power of simple acts of reclaiming our cultures and our traditions in every space because our cultures and traditions belong to every space we belong to. That’s the power of a guayabera.
SocioTheology 
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