Can you imagine an American sitcom where the presence of a Latino/a character is not to progress the narrative arc of a white protagonist? Would you believe me if I told you that there is a sitcom that explores the journey of a Cuban American family of three generations, one that does not make you want to cringe? Hold on to your café Cubanos because One Day at a Time (2017) is the show to school other American shows.
Written by a Cuban American, One Day at a Time has a 99% rating on Rotten Tomatoes—a near-perfect score that is held only by award-winning shows and movies.
One Day at a Time, Netflix's Latinx make-over of Norman Lear’s production (1975-1984), tells the story of a non-nuclear family as each member battles through their problems with the help of the rest of the family. The successful original series gave us Ann Romano, a divorcee raising two kids on her own.
The remake maintains the single-mom trope where Penélope Alvarez, played by Justina Machado, is a US Army Nurse Corps veteran turned nurse. She is struggling with a shoulder wound and post-traumatic stress disorder while raising Elena and Alex, her two teenagers. Elena, played by Isabella Gomez, is a proud feminist and activist struggling to come out to her family as a lesbian. Alex, played by Marcel Ruiz, aims to make the baseball team to gain popularity and as the only male member of the family, he is forced to mature faster in the absence of his father.
Penelope raises her children with the help of her mother Lydia Rivera, played by EGOT winner Rita Moreno, a Cuban refugee who relocated to the United States through Operación Pedro Pan—a visa waiver program by the Cuban Catholic Church and U.S. Department of State to protect Cuban youth from Castro’s communist indoctrination.
Lydia is the star of the show. She is festive and fun and is two-pictures-of-the-pope-by-her-bedside-table religious. Her identity as a devout Cuban keeps the spark of Latinidad alive in the show. Lydia’s Latinidad is not set in contrast with the dominant or mainstream Anglo-American culture. She proudly celebrates her culture without giving in to pressures to assimilate. (See Marta Caminero-Santangelo's "Latinidad" in The Routledge Companion to Latino/a Literature.)
Lydia’s multifaceted portrayal of a proud Cuban refugee resists Latino/a stereotypes. Through Lydia’s relationship with her grandchildren and the United States, we see the show’s willingness to reconstruct the Latino/a identity as one with emotional depth, maturity, and love.
Lydia, portrayed by eighty-six-year-old Rita Moreno, breathes life into this elder character—at a time when the media favors young actresses instead of old. Rita creates a space for the elderly whose role is not just to further the narrative but as a position of wisdom and experience that the subsequent generation can learn from—a true matriarch.
Elena Alvarez is a stereotypical militant youth who is woke and the most politically aware character in the show. In episode 9 titled “Viva Cuba”, Elena is accepted into Voices of Tomorrow, a writing program that is an Ivy-league stepping stone, but she is accepted as that year’s diversity candidate.
On the one hand, Elena is appalled that she got in because she’s Cuban, and on the other hand, Lydia screams, “An award for being Cuban? Finally!” and fist pumps the air. Penelope believes the committee thinks Elena is a smart Latina and they want to help her daughter achieve her dreams.
This scene in episode 9 shows the reaction of three different generations who struggle with their desire to have opportunities to better their lives. In the culmination of the episode, we learn that Lydia came to the US with three younger sisters—she did not know the language and had to take care of her sisters. Instructed by her family, she walked through the pecera in Cuba. Lydia has since been living with the regret of leaving Cuba. She wishes she was never asked to leave.
Overhearing the story and understanding the struggle her grandmother went through, Elena evolves from her militant stereotype into an informed Cubana who decides to take the spot in the program, stating, “I’m going to make sure that they don’t forget I’m Cuban.”
With many similar situations being navigated by the family, One Day at a Time has been unanimously touted by critics as a progressive show due to the cast’s accurate representation of Latinos. It has been praised for the ease and honesty it brings to topics like divorce, sexuality, and repatriation.
The big credit goes to the scriptwriters who strike a balance with the non-Latino audience. Their efforts are realized through the character of Schneider, the owner of the apartment community that the Alvarezes live in.
Schneider is a Canadian immigrant who came to the United States illegally and acquired the coveted Green Card. If a white man playing the illegal-turned-legal immigrant feels strange, the showwriters take it one step further. Schneider contributes to much of the show’s comic relief, all while reminding audiences how mainstream media reproduces stereotypes of Latinos. Despite Schneider’s cultural misgivings, the Alvarez family expresses empathetic love— not anger or resignation toward him.
Schneider serves as a medium for the audience to unlearn Puerto Rican history and culture that has been propagated by popular culture thus far and learn the reality in real time with the Alvarez family.
In episode 9, “Viva Cuba”, Schneider walks into the Alvarez home wearing a Ché Guevara T-shirt—his excitement is soon deflated by the family. Penelope tells him, “It’s like walking into a Jewish home with a Hitler shirt." Alex adds, “Or into Taylor Swift’s home with a Kanye shirt." Through Schneider, the audience begins to see the complicated relationship Cubans and Cuban Americans have with Ché Guevara.
In an interview with Hollywood Reporter, Rita Moreno adds her stamp of approval to the scriptwriters’ approach: “The first episode was written so authentically that we were automatically a family. But here’s what’s brilliant about the writing: There is a beautiful balance that takes place so that the [non-Latino] audience isn’t left out. The writers’ room is like the U.N. There are gay writers, Latinos, Asians — everybody is in there”.
According to scriptwriter Gloria Calderón Kellet, the intended audience for the show is “anyone”, a remarkably different approach that does not solely target the niche market of Latino/as in the United States.
In Latino Images in Film: Stereotypes, Subversion, and Resistance, Charles Ramírez Berg lists six stereotypes that have been used to define Latinos in U.S. cinema: the bandido, the harlot, the male buffoon, the female clown, the Latin lover, and the dark lady. One Day at a Time was written to acknowledge these stereotypes, ensuring the characters do not fit into existing narratives and personalities of mainstream Latinos. Indeed, Kellet views One Day at a Time as “offering something that, in her experience, has been discouraged by the contemporary Latina/o media landscape: cultural specificity that expands the possibility for connection with the audience."
One Day at a Time offers another way to look past the binaries and stereotypes that are typically put in conversations with questions surrounding Latinx race and representation. Rather than making the Alvarezes into what Latino families should be, the writers create characters with well-developed storylines, prompting and challenging the audience to think differently about Latinidad.
Netflix's One Day at a Time hints at an acceptance of Latinidad, with all its complexities and cultural specificities. While the positive representation of Latinidad in TV has had its ebbs and flows, One Day at a Time certainly points to one moment when we saw a shift in tide in Latinx representation in popular culture—one that celebrated diversity in a manner that was respectful and culturally aware.
Suggested Further Reading
Aldama, Frederick Luis. The Routledge Companion to Latina/o Popular Culture.
Del Río, Esteban, and Kristin C. Moran. “Remaking television: One Day at a Time’s Digital Delivery and Latina/o Cultural Specificity.”