The Powers Behind Encanto: Reflecting on Generational Trauma, and Responsibility

 

While we may not be able to talk about Bruno, many have a lot to say about Disney's Encanto, the movie sensation that has not only captured the minds, ears & hearts of the world, it has encouraged us to have some long-overdue conversations about family,  especially within the Latino community. The story digs deep and finds a connection to many family stories, including mine, where each generation sacrifices so that future ones might shed just a bit of the burden from the one before. 

The Madrigals are a family born from trauma, and like many families and cultures where the history of trauma is prevalent, familial obligations are not only the norm, but the only way of survival.  It is only once a family (or culture) can find themselves multiple generations removed from this trauma, that they can begin to focus on their "wants" rather than their "needs."  The movie reflects this evolution in multiple ways, but most effectively, in the family's various "gifts."  

Magic and powers in stories like Encanto are symbols and insight into each character's persona, paying homage to the surrealistic-fiction traditions of Latin American authors like Mario Vargas Llosa and Gabriel García Márquez.  It is through the evolution of powers among the Madrigals that we can explore how trauma is the main tenet of the Madrigal story, one that speaks to the generational experience of modern-day immigrant/Latino families.  

From the very beginning,  Abuela is doing more than just "running the show." I believe that the candle didn't give the family those miracles at all, but is a physical reflection of Abuela's own powers that manifested themselves out of the grief and horror of losing her home and husband, and being alone with three young children.  Abuela birthed these powers or may have had them all along.

That the first "miracle" was "Casita" strengthens this theory - shelter is the most immediate and pressing of basic survival needs.  Abuela manifested that house and closed off the area to the marauders using the emerging mountains. "SHELTER" is her "gift." Her power is also the original source for those of the other characters', given to them based on the family's needs at the time. She may not understand how, or even be doing it consciously, but the gifts emanate and originate from her.

Abuela's children have powers centered around their immediate needs of survival. Tia Pepa's tempest of emotionally controlled weather hides the more important fact of what that weather produces - WATER.  Julieta HEALS, a skill crucial to dealing with the physical dangers of rebuilding one's life in a new place, and Bruno's power allows the family to ANTICIPATE DANGER.  These powers answer crucial and immediate needs of the family, being that they survived a harrowing attack on their village and a violent end to their patriarch.  

Shelter, water, medicine, and avoiding danger - when you think of these needs, you think of the needs of refugees or migrants, people who have lost their homes to natural disasters or who are fleeing persecution. These are generationally traumatic events, the type that embeds into the psyche of survivors and has lasting implications on their cultural and social interactions. 

This narrative follows many an immigrant experience.  Immigrants who have left their homes due to war, hunger, or other dangers and through their own strength and conviction, were able to make new homes for themselves and reestablish  roots. First generation children are often extremely connected to their parents, and see "familia" as a single, multi-generational unit, where all are raised together and all efforts are for the collective as opposed to the traditionally American "nuclear family" of parents and children only. Theirs is a mentality of "family first," because, without that mindset, they may have never escaped the hardships they left behind.  Pepe, Julieta, and Bruno embody this with their complete selflessness (you never hear of their own dreams or wants), loyalty, and proximity to their mother and each other, so much so that outcast Bruno "runs away" but never actually leaving Casita; unseen but always physically close and watching. 

The Madrigal grandchildren break up into 3 categories, best described using current generational analogies.  Let me say upfront I take liberties with their generational grouping - they are obviously all part of the same generation. However, my "groups" demonstrate the evolution of the Madrigal gifts and how these reflect the long-term healing from trauma. 

The older grandchildren - Luisa, Isabella, and Dolores are the "Gen-Xers." Close in age, they are a whole generation away from the traumatic events and have no memory other than oral history. Still, they are loyal to their parents and grandparents, and are ready, at least unitially, to dutifuly fulfill their responsibilities, as did their parents. They may begin to imagine or long for something more but they still accept that survival of the family is their primary purpose. This is reflected in their powers. 

The most obvious is Luisa's strength: there to carry the loads for her family (and apparently move churches), but also as physical defense or offense, if necessary. Her powers are there to protect what's been established. Isabella's powers may be focused on growing flowers, but her abilities also allow her to produce or manage crops, a sign of stability in meeting basic needs and the establishment of commerce.  Dolores's super hearing is another facet of danger and risk reduction. Whereas Bruno's power anticipated future danger, Dolores' focus is on gathering intelligence in the present for the potential of eminent danger and providing distance as a buffer to prepare a defense or an escape. All three powers have evolved from those of their parents', from "surviving" to "building and protecting." They are there to strengthen the foundation while acknowledging the need to be prepared should trauma revisit.

The two younger teens - Mirabel and Camilo, or the "Millennials," deserve their own group because here is where you see a real break from the previous "power for purpose" cases.  Camilo's shapeshifting does not ensure survival or protection from danger, it provides comfort and entertainment to those around him.  It is no coincidence that Camilo is further removed from the family's generational trauma, being much younger than his sister and cousins. That said, Camilo struggles with his identity, becoming anyone at any time to fulfill whatever need arises.  He is also quick-witted, and his observational humor challenges the family dynamic in a way his older family members wouldn't. Camilo reflects the beginning of the growing privileges attained by later generations, the 2nd or 3rd gen immigrant kids who instead of feeling the pressure to find ways to support their family, can pursue passions and take risks to be - in both shape and form - whoever they want to be.

Mirabel's lack of a power tracks well with the Millennial narrative - unsure of her place or purpose, unable to move out of her nursery, and feeling like she isn't given a chance to prove herself.  However, she is the one that most uproots the family dynamic, working with the "GenXers" to open their eyes toward alternative possibilities.  I relate most to her conversations with Luisa, helping her understand that she must not shoulder all those burdens herself.  Of all the songs in Encanto, "Under the Surface" makes me tear up. Like EVERY TIME.

Antonio is the third new gen category, perhaps best described as a "pre-pandemic Gen-Zer." His power is not survival (unless you count being friends with apex predators), but with established acceptance. Notice Antonio's gift gives him the ability to communicate with animals, not control them, unlike Isabella who creates and controls flora. Antonio's power represents a state of being at peace, finally, with your surroundings. His "reveal party" and room reflect fun and relaxation, while the other rooms reflect obligation. Antonio's "generation" is farthest removed from the historical trauma in his family, the stories are being told to him two generations removed. That allows him to be at peace with his current environment and see opportunity where others saw risk and danger. His power reflects a youthful optimism that things are going to be OK. 

The nature and functions of the powers described demonstrate how with each generation, the family dynamic naturally shifts from fighting for survival to building stability, and finally, to attaining the freedom to aspire. 

So many Latino and immigrant families can relate to this generational journey. My grandmother came from Puerto Rico to the US alone and at 16 years of age. She never finished school and worked in factories for decades. She raised 7 children in what we would only later realize was an abusive household.  That she survived it all to be able to see her grand and great-grandchildren can only be a manifestation of her own superpower.   My grandmother could be a harsh woman at times, and sometimes clashed with my mother, but they were always close. My mother worked hard and almost went to college but had to shift focus and enter the workforce fulltime to help support our family. But that established the foundation for education that I built on. I understood that while I could make my own path, taking risks to follow my passions was something that I could not afford because there was no safety net, no room to fail.  So I worked hard to build that stability to strengthen that foundation and to be that rock, so that my children might be at peace, and aspire to follow their own passions without worrying about putting their family at risk.  I felt the Gen X obligation to parents and grandparents to do what I could to make their journeys worthwhile and not squander their sacrifices. The way I measure my success, is if my children can go through life without this specific burden. Now my children pursue their dreams, knowing they have the full support of their parents to achieve things the rest of us could only imagine.  That it took three generations to get to this point, is not an atypical experience, particularly for immigrants in this country.

Encanto spoke to me for these and many other reasons. But mostly, it illustrated almost perfectly the transition from "survive" to "thrive" that take immigrants in the country generations to achieve.  Each one of us in our families have a role, a responsibility, a power that contributes to that transition that evolves and grows onto itself. 

Some misunderstand this dynamic and vilify the Matriarch of the Madrigals for supposedly forcing her children and grandchildren to shoulder the burdens of her past, denying them the freedom to explore their own paths. That sentiment ignores that those who have experienced the trauma are often afraid of re-victimization, of reopening wounds, of losing what they've gained in their survival. Those who have never experienced that fear may not understand this, until like Maribel, they begin to know where they truly come from, and what it took to get there. 

This movie has no villain. What it has is familia.