 If there's one thing that people from different cultures, backgrounds, and ways of life can connect to, it is the idea of family. Whether these are positive or negative depictions, found family, etc., it's something that everyone can relate to. But what I think has made this movie hit home for so many are the different ways in which family trauma, generational trauma, can impact so many lives. And Kanto looks at generational trauma, family bonds, and approaches these ideas with a level of maturity that makes it popular with older audiences, as well as its targeted audience. I want to look at all of these things, and specifically the film's main trio, as well as Abuela, and how it all comes together. From interpersonal communication across cultures, they define culture as a learned set of shared interpretations about beliefs, values, norms, and social practices which affect the behaviors of a relatively large group of people. Each culture has a different orientation to the world, whether that be to nature, to each other, and even to time. We all live differently according to our cultures. In many European and North American cultures, there is a strong emphasis on the individual from a very young age where children are encouraged to make their own decisions, and define who they are by themselves, whereas cultures like the Madrigals, inspired by Colombia, they have a culture that is collectivist in nature. As the film opens, it's rich with collectivism from the get-go, when considering the space they live in. In more individualistic cultures, the idea of having an entire family, cousins, uncles, and aunts, all under one roof, it's unfathomable, but in this culture, it's normal. The famous proverb that it takes a village to raise a child is something that rings incredibly true here. Often times, cultures like these define themselves and form their identities with others, and based on their family's needs. This idea is extremely prevalent in Encanto, where once the gifts are given to the members of the family, their identities often become whatever they can offer not only to the family, but to the greater community. With that, the first character to look at who fills this mold quite well is Luisa. Luisa is the middle child, the rock of the family, who has quickly become defined by her gift of superhuman strength. From her design alone, she appears as someone who is able to handle the physical burdens of anyone, and she does just that, without complaint. The middle child is constantly tasked by everyone around her, and nearly every scene that she appears in in the first 35 minutes before her song, she's always doing something, helping someone. Whether it's to throw around pianos or donkeys, all to live up to the role that she has been given as the most reliable member of the family. As we see in her song, Luisa believes that she knows what her worth is, and as it's contrasted with her lifting up heavy rocks and flexing, Luisa believes her worth to be solely tied to her ability, solely tied to what she can provide to the family. In the second verse, we learn that Luisa has anxiety that is bubbling up inside of her. She has nerves and fears that she feels that she cannot express because she's afraid of feeling worthless. Again, she reiterates that her worth is tied to her acts of service. While she isn't the eldest sister, the chorus of her song says give it to your sister, your sister's older. Her reliability isn't only physical, it's emotional as well. There is a reason why she is so reluctant to tell Mirabel what's going on with the magic. She doesn't want anyone else dealing with the anxiety that she faces on an everyday basis. The fear of things going wrong should rest only on her shoulders. The final bridge, Luisa shares that not only does she feel that she doesn't have any worth without her gift, but that this pressure, this expectation placed on her shoulders has stripped her of joy. She cannot relax or enjoy anything because there's always something to do, someone to take care of, something to lift. The middle child is built up with this armor physically to ensure that she can handle anything the family might throw at her. She becomes so strong, so reliable that she may even carry the home if it breaks. And this armor even extends to her voice. She starts off with a song in her regular deeper voice, which flutters and gets higher as you break through the surface. Luisa constantly feels the need to put on a facade for her family, as a lot of older children do. Common ideas about middle children are that they are ignored, sometimes invisible, and are often peacemakers. When I first saw her and heard her song, I believed she was the oldest child, but that goes to show how middle children have to often occupy so many different roles, and are accepting of so much in order to keep the peace. In this story, between the main character Mirabel and the eldest, Perfect Isabella, it's easy for Luisa to put her head down and do what is asked of her, to fade into the background, carry the weight, and keep going. It's easy for her to avoid the conflict of explaining her fears and her nervousness, but just doing what is asked of her. This creates a path to becoming the most reliable, because when you ask Luisa, you know that she will never say no. She loves her family too much to say no, and when she begins to lose her gift, it sends her into a deep depression. The fact that Luisa is 19 and doesn't know joy or relaxation from the moment she received her gift, she has been put to work. Her demeanor, her song, they all lead to a possibility that she probably didn't get to be a child for too long, before she was constantly put to work. Luisa doesn't know what she is or who she is if it isn't reliable. Moving on to Isabella, Isabella is the eldest of the main trio, the golden child. When hearing Luisa's song, I thought it was clear that she was the eldest sister, but after Isabella's, I see why she is. Coming from a collectivist culture myself, being the youngest has allowed me to observe the older children, especially the eldest. When you are the oldest child, you are the example, a model for the ones after you to follow, and so you have to be perfect. There might be a parental fear to not make mistakes in raising children. The first one being a people pleaser, being perfect, being a golden child is often a result of that heavy burden, but in all of Isabella's perfection, there is no autonomy, no agency. Every decision that Isabella makes is to please Abuela and the rest of the family, before herself. In the minute moments and in the grander events, Isabella is expected to be perfect. Being the example, Isabella has forced herself to become grace itself. In her small interactions with Abuela, they illustrate exactly what her relationship is with her grandmother, the incessant expectations. When they are discussing marriage, and Abuela says that Mariano wants five kids, Isabella uncontrollably produces pink flowers and one white one. The shock and fear on Isabella's face as Abuela picks out the white flower, the one in perfection, while straightening her posture and moving her hair out of her face. It's telling. When Abuela walks past each of the children's rooms, their expectations are shown in their reactions. Isabella's reaction is to stand up straight. Isabella doesn't get to choose who to marry or what flowers to produce. No, she must adhere strictly to what has been decided for her. It's Mariano and only roses, lilacs, and other perfect flowers. Even the colors she wears, and the patterns on her dresses, are lilacs. In Isabella's song, What Else Can I Do, it sounds a bit more hopeful and aggressive than her character, and it's an embodiment of her self-discovery. It's very much a song of reclamation as well. In her first verse, she says about the plant she's made. It's not symmetrical or perfect, but it's beautiful and it's mine. Those last two words, it's mine, is that aforementioned theme of reclamation. Isabella doesn't have agency for anything, not even to use her own gift, and to experiment in the ways she wants with it. It shows that from the moment she got her gift from five years old, she hasn't even been given the freedom to test out exactly what her gift can do. This is the very first time she is discovering this, and the fact that she finds imperfection beautiful and can claim that as her own is something very powerful for her, because nothing is her own. Before getting into the rest of the song, I want to quickly look at her role in We Don't Talk About Bruno. As everyone else is complaining about Bruno's prophecy bringing negatives into their lives, Isabella's on the surface seems like a positive. He told me that the life of my dreams would be promised and someday be mine. That dream she is referring to, it isn't her own dream. It's the dream Abuela wants for her, a dream that she has been led to believe is her own. And the prospect of that coming true must have been terrifying for her, as this moment preceded Mariano's engagement. It must have been horrifying hearing that, and having to force herself every day to work towards this day, and towards a future that she had no choice in. In the third verse, she sings about how her perfection is an effortless, or as graceful as it seems to be, but rather something practiced and forced. How she's drilled in these practices and these poses so much so that it isn't a conscious effort for her anymore. If you need 10,000 hours to master a craft, how many hours do you need for it to become drilled into your consciousness, into your character? Finally in the refrain, she says, what can you do when you are deeply, madly, truly in the moment? Seize the moment. To seize the day, to live in the present, freedom, are all things that Isabella has never had or experienced. Being liberty and being free automatically invites imperfection and flaws. It invites failure. Something that she might have an incredible fear of as well. These words are very specific, and they tell us that she has a deep desire to feel whatever it is that she wants to feel, to be madly and deeply free. What else can I do has a duality to it, where from one end it is a tired question, from the golden child who's done everything already. She's marrying a man that she doesn't love. And practiced being perfect, graceful and elegant, to the point where she embodies it. She does whatever is asked of her, and so she pleads what else can I do. Mirabelle has abuela shortly after this that no matter how hard any of them try, they will never be good enough. And this phrase seems to echo that sentiment. What else can Isabella do to please her? At one point in the bridge, she asks, how far do these roots go down? And it seems to be a deeper question about how entrenched these expectations of perfection are, but also a familial question. But at the end, what else can I do, is more so a hopeful and jubilant theme. As she's finally found the agency not only on her powers, but on her life that she has been looking for, and she's asking what more can her powers do? What more potential does she have that hasn't been realized yet? Turning her color palette from strictly pinks and purples into a tie-dye splash of all these different colors, illustrates her new and bold outlook about herself and what she desires. I think with Isabella's interactions with Mirabelle, she comes across as someone extremely selfish and cruel, and her own trauma doesn't excuse this. She was rather foul towards her sister. But much like everyone in this film, Isabella is complex. The eldest child is selfless, incredibly giving of herself to her family, but she does have bad qualities. Isabella takes out the anger and resentment she has towards Abuela out onto Mirabelle. She's jealous that her little sister is free of the pressures of being the oldest, and jealous that she has the freedom to shape her own destiny. I think when looking on that selflessness, it's important to understand the self in relation to culture and family. Self-orientation describes how people's identities are formed, and in certain cultures, people may define who they are only through associations with others, because an individual's self-definition may not be separate from that of the larger group. The sense of being bonded or connected to others is very important. With this in consideration, selflessness comes into play to enhance that sense of being bonded and connected with others. One way to demonstrate that support is by loving. In many of these cultures, acts of service are common ways to demonstrate care and affection. To tie this into the film, for a culture that is somewhat reliant on acts of service, what does it mean for these characters if they cannot be of service to their family, and what other ways can they demonstrate the profound love they have for their family? One of the most vital parts about communication is understanding, and in understanding, the participants involved in the act of communicating have shared interpretations about what the messages being sent mean. Acts of service are ways that members of their family not only show, but understand love. In many of these cultures, your reliability is the greatest form of love. Your presence, your help, your service is greater than any other action or work. So of course, everyone, and more specifically Isabella, Luisa, and Mirabel, feel that their worth is tied to what they can offer because that is how they show love. It's why they don't complain unless prompted. Only of the sisters we reach Mirabel, the youngest, the scapegoat. I think from early on, it's easy to see the role that Mirabel plays in her family, or the role that she doesn't play. On important days like the gift ceremony, moving the piano, decorating, cooking, while everyone has very specific tasks to complete, she has none. Mirabel ruins things, as we hear directly from Isabella and indirectly from Abuela. She's always in the way. Even Casita can put up their own decorations. As Abuela tells her, she needs to step aside because the night must go perfectly, implying that she is the farthest thing from perfect. This introduction is a very quick segue to a feeling of worthlessness, uselessness. Add that onto the fact that she never got a gift, and that she ruined Abuela's perfect night the last time they had this ceremony, only amplify said feelings. Having her own experience of that night certainly didn't help either. In a family that honors help and community, Mirabel has no way to prove to her family that she truly cares about them. But if there are two traits that Mirabel can be defined by, it's her empathy and her courage. But as she tries to save her family's home, her newly defined role as the one to heal generational wounds caused by Abuela, comes to light. These traits only grow stronger. As she quickly becomes the voice for the family's silent suffer, Mirabel seems to display all the positivity and empathy that Abuela failed to show the family. Listening to and supporting Isabela and Luisa as they aired out their frustrations and issues while helping them work through it, adding in two hugs that were rather heartwarming and needed. Her first display was walking Antonio to his door, despite having had her own devastating walk years prior, though I think this idea resonates the most with Bruno. Bruno has had it the worst out of all the children. He is the child who has gotten a gift, but his gift required agency and work in order to avoid or embrace the possible future. But it's agency that the family and even the people of the town never sought out because Abuela was so controlled in. Because she always saw the negatives in her son. The theme of selflessness pervades this film, it's everywhere and it's in everyone. It's very much so in Bruno. He had all of this potential, this wonderful gift, and he felt that it wasn't good enough because no one believed in it. He was isolated and had every right to turn his back on his family. But even in the face of that loneliness, when using his gift for the final time and seeing Mirabel's future, he left to save her. He sacrificed his relationship to his family for them and even more so for her. Ending up more alone than he ever was, than he ever could be for ten long years. So far away and yet inches away from his family. A family that he hasn't felt the warmth of. He hasn't felt their touch in years. But he can hear so clearly why they don't talk about him. How he didn't live up to his potential. How he wasn't good enough. How he ruined everything he touched. And most certainly he heard how he didn't care about his family. And the one person to see Bruno for who he truly is and for his big heart was Mirabel. Even after hearing all of these negative stories about Bruno, she still sought out his ability. She wanted to learn about who he was from the source himself. She believed in him. Bruno was much like her, the scapegoat. Someone she very much could have become after years of disappointing her family. As Abuela always saw the worst in him, she always saw the best in him. Even when his gift gave her a terrible fortune, Mirabel saw the butterfly, the light in his pessimism. And she fights for him. She brings him back home. The bravery it takes to be one of the youngest in the family and to take on the leader to call Abuela out on her wrongdoings, it's incredible. The courage it takes to stand up for her entire family when no one else wanted to. It's only fitting that she saves them. That is her gift. Speaking of Abuela, many people despise her and I can completely understand why. There are so many who've had parents, grandparents, Abuelas of their own who are much like Alma. Her subtle yet piercing remarks, her demeaning looks, her expectations, they hit home for a lot of people. But while Abuela is the antagonist of this story, she is no villain. There's an overwhelming sense of pressure on Abuela, who feels as though she is shouldering the weight of the entire town, all by herself. Going from a brighter, younger and happier woman and suffering such a terrible tragedy losing her husband Pedro, it quickly aged and sad in Alma. Pedro making the choice to sacrifice himself and the candle creating such a safe haven for her and her people, Abuela had no control over anything. It all happened rather quickly. Pedro dying and all of a sudden she had to take care of a community and of her triplets. While of course she'd always have help, there is a sense of loneliness in Abuela's story, as it was her tears and her husband's sacrifice that caused this miracle and now it was her job to preserve it. As they show the first iteration of Abuela's story, Abuela says that they must earn the miracle that somehow found them. By extension, she must earn that miracle. Abuela had been given such an incredible gift, the gift of community and family, a home to live in, and felt that it was her duty alone to protect it. Every family, every home, and they'd been given gifts to do exactly that, right? Abuela is someone who loves abundantly. For each and every member of the Madrigals, down to the townspeople, she acts out of what she believes is their best interest and the best interest of the community. She does what she believes will earn that miracle. From Abuela's perspective, Pepe needs to control her emotions so that she doesn't cause displeasure to the people of the town and their family. Julieta needs to cook and ensure that she is always cooking so that she may heal anyone who gets sick. Luisa must use her ability to help around the town and around the house. She must help those in need. Abuela is the amalgamation of every member of her family and their gifts. Having she tasks her children and grandchildren to do and be, she must also be and do. Abuela needs to project an image of perfection to everyone so that way everyone can feel comfortable asking her for help, which extends to Isabela for example. Abuela cannot show any weakness or fear and has to continue the facade of perfection to keep their town safe. The community she's built, the happiness that exists amongst their people, they do not happen without Pedro's sacrifice, without her sacrifice, and it doesn't get maintained and built upon without her love. But that love, that selflessness, becomes dangerous as she places her own worries and ideas of what she should be onto her children and her grandchildren. Ubruno becomes one of the standouts of this film as he is the example of what happens when someone in the family isn't perfect. When they crumble underneath her pressure, there is a great deal of grief and sadness in her heart when he's mentioned. Her only son, a son who probably reminded her much of her husband, probably a reason why she was so hard on him. And his power seemed to be so great and so useful, until it wasn't, until he wasn't. And because the movie tells us that he chose to leave, she never stopped caring for her son. But Abuela's care is often conflated with love. When Belle Hooks is all about love, she writes that to truly love, it is a mixture of a few ingredients. Care, affection, recognition, respect, trust, commitment, as well as open and honest communication. She goes on to write that abuse and love cannot coexist. That for most folks it is just too threatening to embrace a definition of love that would no longer enable us to see love as present in our families. Now recognizing that abuse is a very loaded word, a harsh one, by definition that is exactly what took place. It is imperative to acknowledge the unintentional cruelty and mistreatment that Abuela inflicted upon her children and grandchildren. It was sometimes subtle, but had tremendous psychological impacts. Isabella's quest for identity and agency, Luisa's sense of worth only being tied to what she can provide, Mirabella's neglect and verbal abuse. Bruno left the family because he could not be what Abuela wanted him to be, because she only saw the bad in him, to the point where he too believed that there was only the bad. He had no faith in his abilities, in himself. Psychologist Morgan Scott Peck wrote that love is as love does. That love is an act of will. Both an intention and action, will implies choice. In short, love is in the actions that we choose to make every single day. Abuela trying so hard to earn the gift, traumatized two generations. She certainly showed care and affection to her family, but that was quickly undermined by her actions. To hear Abuela so clearly say that the cracks in their home are directly Mirabella's fault and that she is deliberately hurting the family, saying that Bruno out of all people didn't care about his family. To see that this was the last time Abuela looked at her granddaughter with this expression, with hope and promise in her eyes, with love and not disappointment, it's hard to say that Abuela showed true love to her family. It's hard to hear words that tell you that you are a failure, to hear that you don't love your family, do not feel loved, and in that same light, believe that love was always present in their home. But it is hard to say that Abuela did not love her family. The second time Abuela's story is shown, it is a lot darker, as it explores exactly how Pedro died, killed in front of his people, in front of his wife and children in brutal fashion, it shows Alma shouting and weeping for her husband. Such a tragic scene. In addition, it's an incredibly vulnerable moment for a woman who feels that she needs to be the strongest, who feels that she is the only one who can carry the burden of that candle to share that with her granddaughter. In the second iteration, it's emphasized that Abuela has already lost everything once before, and she is deeply, deeply afraid of losing it again, that any minor inconvenience shakes her to her core, and might even remind her of that day. Abuela saw the cracks and believed it was something that she was doing wrong, and that only made her harder on everyone else. Abuela, the foundation of her home, of her family, was solely to blame for her house falling apart, and what a horror it was for her, right? This is the one thing she feared most, that she was unworthy of her gift, that she hadn't earned it. Their miracle, their gift is never defined, but if it were up to me, this gift was granted as mentioned out of an act of love. If love is as love does, Pedro committed the greatest act of love possible, sacrificing himself for the good of his wife and his people, for their safety and liberation. To allow the candle to shine brighter, was through these continuous acts of love, like when Mirabel helped her sister find her true desires, or when she showed Bruno that he was good enough, worthy enough to be a part of their family. Acts of love built their community, and their community helped to repay that favor, now building their new home. Finally understanding that, the matriarch was able to put her pride aside and understand her wrongdoings. In so many collectivist cultures, the pride of the eldest or whoever is the leader of the family, that pride is something they hold so dear to their hearts. They cannot and do not want to be seen as vulnerable, or as failures. Because of the example it sets, whether it be fear of being undermined, or just not wanting to disappoint those around you, this is the worst thing that could have happened to Abuela in so many ways. She failed in front of her kids. So her putting that pride aside, recognizing the damage she had done, and apologizing, was a grand feat for her. And while there would still have to be a lot more work done by her to mend the wounds she caused, this was a very, very important step. Because many times, that first step, that apology doesn't even happen. It's terribly complicated and complex, isn't it? To understand why someone has hurt you, and understand their pure and selfless intentions, and they've even apologized for it. But that still doesn't excuse what has been done, nor does it take away the hurt that has been caused, the deep, deep pain she has caused others. Without her sacrifices, they wouldn't have their home, their life. But what kind of life is it if that life granted is a miserable one? That's the complexity of family, and life, isn't it? The consequences of generational trauma, where love, affection, and care are often used as synonyms for each other when they are in fact different things. But the definition of love can differ from culture to culture as well. It's all so complicated. But only the individuals themselves can say for themselves whether or not they felt loved in their homes, whether or not they still feel loved. It's easy to say that they should have all been a little more selfish, that they should have just said no, or stood up to Abuela. But culture dictates so much of who we are, and so these reactions can be immensely frowned upon in a culture dissimilar to your own. It can also be incredibly isolating. But at the end of Encanto, there was a sense that only together, with each other, with family, will they eventually heal. I said that their miracle was kept alive through acts of love, and forgiveness from Mirabel and their family to me is what rekindled their flame. Forgiving the matriarch was understanding that Abuela had already suffered enough. It was an important step to not only heal, but to make room to grow. For them to truly know love, the action. Giving Abuela a chance to still be a part of their family, but in a better light, as a better person, allowing Abuela to grow as well. I think it's necessary to note that not everyone deserves to be forgiven, or should be. And it's to each their own. But I think in this case though, two as hooks rights, release someone else from the prison of their guilt or anguish over our feelings of outrage or anger, is another one of those selfless acts performed by their family. I think in the face of everything, at each turn, Encanto is always a movie about community, family, and growth. In the moments where Mirabel felt alone, Bruno was there to share her pain, to tell her that she was exactly what their family needed. When Isabella and Luisa were venting out their frustrations, Mirabel was there to listen and to support them. Seeing Mirabel in awe of her sister's growth, and the eldest thanking her sister at the end, these are the moments of family. In so many scenes, there were small details, small moments of warmth, tenderness, of family and togetherness. The face rubs, the acts of service, that feeling of family and community shown through. Their path to healing was never a lonely one. It was done through listening, acknowledgement, and understanding. When the candle falls at the end of the film, they're all trying to save it. Not only for their own abilities, but they recognize how much it means to abuela, how much their home means to each other. Though at times it seems as though Mirabel is the only one trying to save their home, it is truly a team effort, a family's effort. And by the end, we see the words of communication and empathy. How important it is, especially in a family, to know that you are not alone. And to share when you might be feeling so. Overall, this is a movie that has love at every turn. It demonstrates what love should be and what love is not. I think that's why I came to love Disney's Encanto.