Before we start with today’s story, let’s do something different. Let’s do an exercise. Close your eyes (after you read what I’m about to say, I can’t read it for you if I’m not there). 

Imagine (from wherever you’re living) returning home after a night of partying with friends. You are all laughing, making jokes about how silly you all look doing your thing. You head back to the car after saying goodbye. It’s dark, and you have to park far because you were late as usual. Your friends offer to walk with you, but you modestly decline. You start walking towards your car, but it feels kilometers away. You are wearing your prettiest, but not most comfortable heels. We all have been there, right? One way or the other, we women had to have that walk back home alone. As part of this exercise, I want you to think for a minute (think hard). How safe would you feel walking down the streets of your hometown alone? Would you dare?

Introduction

As a woman, it’s a privilege to roam down the streets feeling safe and free (but it shouldn’t be). That’s why on March 8th, some women give each other colorful pens with lots of bling or sweet treats. Some make signs screaming to be heard and respected, and they march the streets (not shaming anybody for how they commemorate International Women’s Day, just trying to prove the whole “privilege” point).

On a Saturday afternoon right before lunch (I lunch at 2:00 pm on Saturdays), I sat on my mother’s couch staring at the TV, wanting to click the first thing that I found interesting. That was the beginning of it all. I became Antonio obsessed over the plot (not Rosario Tijeras). Those of you who are familiar with the books or series know what I refer to. 

In this article, I will share my thoughts on the series and all its central themes.

Here for the plot

For the sake of the length of this article, I will leave Rosario’s love triangle with Antonio and Emilio aside (that includes Daniel as well). Of course, I might mention them here and there, but this article is about Rosario, it’s about women. 

The 1999 novel ‘Rosario Tijeras’ by Jorge France was produced in a movie in 2005 (I haven’t watched it), a Colombian series in 2010, and a Mexican series in 2016 with 3 seasons (and apparently a fourth one in the making). See, it’s not only me obsessing about Rosario, otherwise it wouldn’t have been produced this often.

Ironically, Rosario Tijeras came from a man’s mind. The movie and the Colombian and Mexican series were mostly written and directed by men. See where I’m getting at? Go check for yourself because most of the crew were male. The question is, why? Or am I getting too much into my head? Before I continue, I want to remind you, lovely reader, to keep in mind that this article is about the Mexican version of Rosario Tijeras (and it’s not spoiler-free).

Rosario es una niña

The audience was constantly reminded that Rosario was a child, especially by Ruby, mother of the year (I’ll get into that in a bit). In the beginning, you see Rosario doing things that teenagers usually do. Walk around with friends, eating candy, and getting in trouble. When she accepts a bet in exchange for a few trendy plastic bracelets, you see the child in Rosario come out. The bet was to kiss Antonio (chico fresa de la uni), and Rosario did that. That was the beginning of all the problems Rosario was about to face.

In some cultures, girls who get their menarches are seen as women. They stop being little girls once they bleed. In the first season of Rosario Tijeras, you see a child in a woman’s body (whatever that means). She just looks older for her age. It’s interesting because we were always told that women mature faster than boys. We see girls mature physically and emotionally more rapidly than boys, but is that really so? Or is this a social construct, just like virginity? Girls facing inequalities may appear to “grow up faster” due to increased responsibilities, exposure to trauma, and social expectations. 

La reggaetonera

Rosario was growing up in un barrio pobre. She lived with her little brother Erik, which she calls Enano. She has a special bond with Erik (who I heavily suspect has a learning disability). Their mother, Ruby, works hard but says some questionable things in the series. I was not sad when she died. And then there is her stepfather, whom we will not waste our time describing (he is just a lacra). Rosario also has a big brother, Brandon, who she intensely looks up to. Brandon loved Rosario and wanted to protect her at all costs. 

I don’t think the kiss Rosario planted on Antonio’s mouth was the origin of all her problems, but systemic poverty is. I’m not saying you’re doomed for life for growing up in a barrio, but you will have to work harder than those who don’t even know what it feels like not knowing when you will have your next meal. You will always need to catch up with the rest. 

Social inequalities depicted in “Rosario Tijeras”

In the series, Rosario lives in a humble home. They have their basic needs, but Ruby is rarely home (which is the case for many families with low-income jobs who spend their days working, often having more than one job to provide for their family). The dangerous thing about being a child left alone without proper supervision is parentification (the case for Rosario) and the opportunity to do things you usually wouldn’t do. You can get away with things, but pigs like the stepfather might also try to use that in his favor to get away with abuse (luckily, in this case, it didn’t happen, not with the stepfather at least, but still, children are more vulnerable when they are left home alone.

The social inequalities are depicted when university students visit Rosario’s high school for a project and judge the high school students for the way they look and act (except Antonio). They even call Rosario a reggeatonera and naca. In case you didn’t know, naca or naco is a derogatory term with racial and class roots that Mexicans use to describe people whose manners and tastes are considered to pertain to the lower classes. Growing up, I used to hear this slang so much in telenovelas, but I was too young to know its racist connotation. 

In Rosario Tijeras, you see the contrast between rich and poor, and characters from different socioeconomic backgrounds intertwine every time. Social inequality and poverty depict the struggles of those living in marginalized communities. These conditions contribute to the prevalence of violence and crime.

Violence, crime, and injustice

In criminology, crime is seen through different lenses. Socioeconomic factors may contribute to crimes. In Rosario Tijeras, and not that it’s justifiable, you see Rosario’s older brother “en malos pasos,” stealing, enfierrado (carrying guns) and was starting in the low world of narcs, meaning he was in the lowest hierarchy of the drug world, but would go up with the years (he just never thought he would take Rosario with him). 

They were not stealing for bread but to go up, gain power, and make easy money. Even though I had a soft spot for Brandon because he wanted to protect his sister, his actions were wrong. What Rosario did was wrong, too (she is a sicario, after all). There is no excuse (my husband will find this statement out of my character because I always tell him that I would have been a fantastic defense lawyer, always finding an excuse to give people second chances (except for sex offenders). From being intelligent and having a bright future ahead of her, Rosario let the self-fulfilling prophecy kick in (and it eventually won). Rosario dropped out of school and joined the criminal life. But who wouldn’t, with the life that she had? It’s like she had all the right ingredients to make her life go all wrong. 

Amar es mas dificil que matar

Rosario grew up without a father, didn’t have many positive role models, had her best friend murdered, was harassed as a child, and was eventually sexually assaulted. It’s like the world was ganging up on her, and she had no one but herself, like a lot of girls out there growing up in poverty. Rosario got justice her way because it wouldn’t have happened if she had leaned on a system that was systematically doomed to help her. And I’m not saying her childhood and trauma justify the crimes she committed, but just imagine if she had the right support and resources; it may have been a whole other story. In the story, Rosario’s actions are often driven by a thirst for revenge against those who wronged her. In a world where Rosario faces constant threats, she becomes hypervigilant, in a state of survival, and she has trouble trusting people.

Patriarchy and sexism

Patriarchy is a social system where men hold primary power and predominate in roles of political leadership, moral authority, social privilege, and control of property, this significantly contributes to gender-based violence in several ways. For example:

Reinforcement of Power Imbalances

Even though Rosario gained the respect of her peers for being fierce, she was still in a male-dominated world. It was the men who played the cards. Imagine living in a world where all the choices were made for you mostly by men; this contributes to the vulnerability of women, the social and economic inequality that we spoke of before, restricts our autonomy, and makes women more susceptible to violence.

For example, in Rosario Tijeras, Melba is married to Genaro. At the beginning, Genaro treats Melba’s son very poorly. Melba tolerated this at first, maybe out of fear; women are being told, after all, that we need a man in our lives; otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to function, but also Melba’s economic dependency on Genaro. This economic vulnerability reinforces their dependence on men and perpetuates patriarchal power structures. Melba’s son was not allowed to go to school (which he wanted) because Genaro didn’t want him to. Genaro argued that John was a boy and must do hard labor at home to give him the right to eat.

Furthermore, Genaro puts Melba in fucked up position by announcing in town that Melba is pregnant (she wasn’t) because he thought he would control the narrative and force Melba to have a baby (patriarchal control). Melba was forced to get birth control from Luz to avoid getting pregnant secretly. She didn’t want a baby with Genaro, but her wants were out of the equation (she is a woman, after all). Patriarchal norms contribute to a culture where violence against women is often normalized or excused. 

Normalization of Male Dominance and Aggression

Throughout the series, crying is seen as a sign of weakness, especially when the men cry; they are told not to cry because boys don’t cry. The burden of “eres el hombre de la casa” is also mentioned multiple times. As a man, you must be tough and never scarred; you can’t be a mariquita. This idea of men being bigger, better, and more potent than women and that women are pretty delicate flowers is what contributes to rigid gender roles. It’s okay for men to get angry, throw things around, and be upset, but when women do this, they are emotional, on their period, and weak. When a man stands up for himself, he is seen as a natural leader, but when a woman does, they are labeled as a bitch. 

Rosario’s character defies traditional gender roles and challenges the power dynamics of a patriarchal society. She navigates a male-dominated world on her own terms, asserting her independence and strength. The little brother of the first drug lord could never deal with Rosario pushing boundaries and challenging the patriarchal norms.

Objectification and Dehumanization of Women

It’s essential to recognize that the experiences of women in Latin America and the Caribbean are diverse, and the impact of patriarchy and sexism varies depending on factors such as race, ethnicity, class, and sexual orientation.

In season 1, Rosario and her best friend Delia hang out almost daily. They both dropped out of school and started working at a cellphone joint that Rosario’s stepfather owned. Rosario was unknowingly being groomed by her stepfather (not for him, but a “bigger” fish). Rosario was attacked days earlier by this same stepfather when he got home drunk, and his mom wasn’t there.

OH, Ruby

You would think that when a mother comes home and sees her children locked up in their room, scarred for their lives, she would stand up to them. Ruby pathetically tries several times to stand up for her daughter, but you can see in her face and body language and with what comes out of her mouth that she’s the typical victim blamer, always trying to make excuses for the stepfather. A few times, I also sensed jealousy of Ruby towards Rosario for being young, beautiful, and desirable, but this was her patriarchal norms talking. 

Rosario was aware of the way men looked at her, this made her feel disgusted and unsafe. She stood up for herself as a little girl and was never afraid to give them a piece of her mind. It’s funny because we hope that our daughters are brave enough to open their mouths when they’re in an unsafe situation; we want them to be resilient. It is never about boys keeping their hands to themselves. Patriarchy creates a culture where the responsibility is placed on women and solely women for keeping themselves safe and contributes to a culture of silence and impunity. Boys will be boys, they say. We are seeing a shift in this mindset, but not fast enough. In essence, patriarchy creates a social environment where gender-based violence is more likely to occur and less likely to be addressed.

Capitán Pulido

Let’s talk about Pamela, an agent at first, but she gets her well-deserved promotion and eventually becomes captain. Pamela was always ahead in the case of Rosario Tijeras. Ahead in clues and just one step behind Rosario. It’s a shame she didn’t have the proper backup. Eventually, her captain, Isaac, convinces her to get therapy because she is “overworked” and “obsessed” with Rosario. They put her on meds, and she was forced to go to treatment. At one point, they even changed her role in the agency so she wouldn’t be on the case because she was so “mentally insane.”

They made her feel crazy, but it’s a good thing she never believed them. When Pamela was right, she got promoted and became the new captain. She never abused her power (not with colleagues, at least), was fair, and listened actively to her team. She showed leadership in a sensitive but calculated matter and was always results-driven. It’s a shame that the actress who played her character was swapped three times.

Religion and faith

“Si ojos tienen que no me vean; si manos tienen que no me agarren; si pies tienen que no me alcancen, no permitas que me sorprendan por la espalda; no permitas que mi muerte sea violenta; no permitas que mi sangre se derrame; tú que todo lo conoces, sabes de mis pecados, pero también sabes de mi fe, no me desampares.”

Rosario prayed every time she went out on a mission. I wanted to add this because la Virgen was critical to Rosario. It’s what kept her faith alive throughout hardships. La Virgen contributed to Rosario’s resilience and helped her get up whenever she faced adversity. Faith keeps many of us alive, and in marginalized communities, faith is sometimes all they have. In the series, I don’t see Rosario using her faith as a justification or dispensation for violence; instead, she sees it as a tool of protection and guidance.

From my point of view, La Virgen and Antonio are the purest things that Rosario has ever experienced. I know she mentions Brandon in the series as the best man in her life, but I will never forget how Brandon gambled with Rosario’s life just to climb up the ladder of the world of narcs. Rosario’s best friend, Delia, ended up dead as a result.

Yo soy candela

Whether “Rosario Tijeras” is “feminist” is complex and must be nuanced. On the one hand, “Rosario Tijeras” presents a complex and ambiguous portrayal of female agency and power. It can be interpreted as a critique of patriarchal violence, but it also raises questions about the use of violence as a means of empowerment. Rosario’s experiences shape her into a firm but also deeply damaged individual. On the other hand, Rosario’s character is sometimes presented in a way that can be seen as sexualized, potentially reinforcing objectification.

I’ve always said that a person may be walking naked on the streets, but that doesn’t make them less worthy of respect; that doesn’t give us the right to touch them. Besides, everything may be sexualized, even fully covered nuns, so let’s not be hypocrites. While Rosario exerts agency in a harsh environment, her choices, mostly driven by revenge, are often limited by the circumstances of her life, like most girls growing up in marginalized communities.

So, lovely reader,  what do you think? Did you learn something new? Do you agree with some of the things that I mentioned? Am I (always) making it deeper than it needs to be? Gen Z peeps come in!

Rosario Tijeras S1 2016