On heirlooms...

When “stuff” is more than just stuff…

We often hear that material objects are secondary to what really matters in life- loved ones, health, etc., but I believe objects can be more than just things on our shelves. They can be conduits connecting us to the past and to others.

As a kid I loved history and learning about different eras and people’s lives. I was always curious to learn more about my own ancestors and jealous of classmates that had photos and artifacts of great grandparents and beyond. My parents immigrated to the US from Central America in the 1980s, fleeing civil war, violence and seeking opportunities not just at a normal life, but at a life period.

Like many in their shoes, they left quickly and without much, bringing only what they could carry and what was essential. Heirlooms and sentimental objects, if there were any to begin with, were often left behind out of necessity.

Perhaps because of this, I craved history even more. My childhood interest became my academic and career pursuits and I am technically a historian with a degree in the history of design & curatorial studies and material culture (shout out to Parsons!). A therapist might argue I threw myself into the history of others in search of a history of my own that I could never know. My dad might counter, “vos estas loca…” in the loving way only a Latin dad could. I would argue they are both probably correct.

Almost 10 years ago my mother went back to El Salvador to care for her ill father. It turned out to be a farewell trip; he passed away a couple of weeks later. When she returned, she brought me something. A small wooden box with what appears to be ancient metal hinges and missing corners chipped away from use over the years.

This was the cash til my grandfather had in his store; a tiny neighborhood tiendita he owned and operated since before my mom’s birth. Before it sat on his shop’s counter, it was used by his wife’s mother, my grandmother’s mother, my great grandmother, in her restaurant as the cash til for her business.

It now sits on the cash wrap here at Oeste, in my own shop.

I’m really proud of my business, the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve poured into it and of the dream I fulfilled in opening up my own brick and mortar shop, but I’m also really proud of this simple box and the resilience and history it represents.

Though a plain wooden object, it means so much more. It’s a tangible reminder that I too come from somewhere, have history, have ancestors that I am more connected to than I ever imagined- I am part of a long line of business owners, of shop owners to be precise!

Next time you’re in the shop, keep an eye out for our little piece of history.

Do you have any family heirlooms in your space? We’d love to hear about them! And if you’re a fellow child of immigrants or an immigrant yourself, I’d love to hear if you felt the same.

xx,

N