When I first stumbled on Chancla, I connected instantly to Leslie Priscilla’s words. While I’m not a part of the Latine community, I understand the nuanced feelings that can come with talking about corporal punishment.
Growing up, I often heard physically threatening—yet playful—language thrown around. It wasn’t uncommon for my mom to warn she would “hang me by my hair” if I acted up, or for my dad to caution that he would “spank me if I got myself hurt.” And as troubling as those phrases might sound to someone who isn’t familiar with them, for me, while it inspired fear as a kid, these phrases now largely represent a connection to my culture, and to a wider community of immigrants living in the US who have had similar experiences with fear-based parenting practices.
La chancla literally translates to "the flip-flop," and to get to the heart of why it can conjure so many feelings, I asked Priscilla to expand on what inspired her to write Chancla. She shared a message for the next generation on how to parent while healing their own “Inner Niñes.”
Rachael Xerri: What inspired you to write Chancla now?
Leslie Priscilla: This book was inspired by so many of my experiences growing up as the daughter of two Mexican immigrants. I was a part of a very large family that had very distinct dynamics that differed from the ones I witnessed in the media throughout my childhood. But really, this book began the moment I became a mother to my first daughter for the first time in 2012. At that time, I felt everything from my own childhood rise to the surface at once. I felt love from my family, but I also felt fear from adults who did not know how to regulate themselves enough to exhibit patience when my cousins and I “misbehaved.” I knew I didn’t want to parent from that same fear, but I also didn’t know another way yet. That search led me to train with Maestra Ruth Beaglehole and to nearly two decades now of work as a parent educator.
"I wrote 'Chancla' with the intention to offer a path forward to heal some of these wounds through the parenting of our children, and the reparenting of our own Inner Niñes (children), which is just as important."
In my decades of working with Latine parents, “la chancla” came up as a form of “discipline” time and again. It was always said somewhat jokingly, but I could see past the humor and noticed a woundedness amongst these parents that was rearing its head. I knew my family carried these wounds, too. When I started learning the history of where some of these wounded dynamics came from and how to transmute them, I made it my mission to share my learnings with as many people who would listen. And so I wrote Chancla with the intention to offer a path forward to heal some of these wounds through the parenting of our children, and the reparenting of our own Inner Niñes (children), which is just as important.
I also wrote this book because we, the Latine community, are living through a moment when our families feel especially under threat. We are witnessing family separation, ICE raids, and attacks that have ended in the death of Latine parents, real adversities inflicted on our communities at all levels. And yet our families stay resilient and resisting. I wanted to highlight that. Additionally, Latine parents have tools for healing that come from inside our own culture. They are not tools that ask us to abandon our values. Our family dynamics have to be understood, contextualized, and gently transformed from the inside out.
What is the significance of “la chancla” to people who grew up hearing this phrase?
For many Latine individuals, la chancla, or la chancleta, is one of those words that causes a reaction in our bodies before our minds even finish processing it. It touches our nervous systems, our core memories, and our identities as a people. For those of us who grew up in Latine households, it’s become shorthand for an entire style of discipline. I translate it as the infliction of fear and power, over dynamics used to express love. It is a parent’s way to protect our children via punitive practices.
"The paradox at the heart of the book is that la chancla can be both a source of cultural belonging and a symbol of harm at the very same time."
La chancla shows up as a Latine pop culture punchline online, a flying sandal meme, and we laugh. There’s real affection tangled up in la chancla and flashbacks of the people who raised us the only way they knew how. Though some of us didn’t receive the actual “chancla,” with some receiving other means of punishment instead, la chancla is still the most recognizable and celebrated discipline “tool” that still connects us to our culture and our community through humor. But I have consistently found in my work with families that underneath the humor are often memories of a flinch, tense little bodies, the genuine pain of children that has often gone unacknowledged. It makes sense that some of us do not always want to remember. The paradox at the heart of the book is that la chancla can be both a source of cultural belonging and a symbol of harm at the very same time. Healing our culture, our families, and ourselves means being able to hold both truths without shame.
What is your message to the next generation of parents?
My message to the next generation of parents is consistently this: You do not have to choose between honoring where you come from and healing how you were raised. It is our inner work, and work we do in community, to learn how to hold this complexity. Breaking cycles of violence and harm in our families is never a rejection of our parents, our ancestors, or our culture. In fact, I believe it is one of the most loving things one can do for our elders and ancestors, for ourselves, and for our children and descendants. There is no expectation to be a “perfect parent” who never raises their voice (I certainly am not perfect). But we do need to commit to being more conscious adults who notice, pause, repair, and model that for our children and all children.
"You do not have to choose between honoring where you come from and healing how you were raised."
It doesn’t matter if you are a parent or not; this book is not just for parents. This is because every adult has a role in dismantling power imbalances that stem from colonial adaptations that show up in our families, and every adult needs to take that role seriously when it comes to children and youth. I want people to know that it’s very possible and necessary to reparent the niñe you once were with the same compassion you’re learning to offer the children you know and care for. Every small moment where we choose connection over control is already changing our family and our culture’s story.
Is there anything else that you would like to share with listeners today?
Only that you are not doing this alone, although it may feel that way sometimes. You are not the only one in your family or your community trying to do it differently. Healing should not be seen as a solitary project, because what is most natural to us is that healing is done in community. Wherever you are in this journey, whether you’re just starting to question what you learned or you are years into unlearning it, I hope this book meets each listener with compassion instead of judgment, and reminds the adult and the child version of ourselves that joy, culture, and healing can live in the very same home, and that it is our birthright.
