Bridging Mexican and American Cattle Traditions | Teto Medina Wallace
Cattle, Culture, and the Connection That Still Matters
The roots of the cattle industry stretch much deeper than most people realize, crossing not just decades but centuries, and not just state lines, but national borders. At the heart of this legacy are the families who have carried on the work — generation after generation — often without recognition for the full scope of their impact. One of those families is the Medina Wallace family, whose history in Mexican cattle ranching dates back over 150 years. Through that legacy, and the voice of Teto Medina Wallace, we gain not only a clearer picture of where the cattle industry came from but also a deeper understanding of the values and people who continue to shape it.
When discussing the shared history between the United States and Mexico, especially as it relates to the cattle industry, it becomes clear that the two are far more intertwined than they are separate. Mexican ranches played a foundational role in establishing beef production across the continent, with cattle arriving through Veracruz in the early 1500s — long before the establishment of Plymouth Rock. These herds, and the people who raised them, slowly made their way north, laying the groundwork for what would become one of the most iconic cultural identities in the world: the cowboy.
The American cowboy, so often seen as a symbol of independence, grit, and strength, has roots in the Mexican vaquero. The style, the horsemanship, the tools of the trade — all of it evolved from the traditions established in Mexico long before state lines or ports of entry were drawn. And today, in places like Santa Teresa Livestock Auction, that connection is still alive. The auction sits at the largest cattle crossing into the United States, moving over half a million head of cattle each year, many of which are raised on the same family ranches that have been in operation for generations.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re raising two head — you’re part of it.”
This connection isn’t just historical; it’s practical. It’s modern. And it’s deeply human. Cattle producers on both sides of the border face the same struggles: unpredictable weather, rising costs, market volatility, and the emotional weight of a job that never really ends. It’s a profession that demands resilience and rewards those who are willing to live in close partnership with the land. And while language, policy, and politics may differ, the heartbeat of the rancher is the same whether you’re standing in Kansas or Chihuahua.
One of the most compelling ideas raised in the conversation was the concept of transformation — how cattle ranching is, by its very nature, a cycle of transformation. Grass becomes beef. Work becomes food. Struggle becomes strength. And people, especially those raised in the dirt and dust of ranch life, are shaped by that transformation, too. Many try to leave. Many need space to breathe and grow and see what else is out there. But more often than not, those same people find themselves drawn back, recognizing the power and beauty of a life connected to the land.
That return isn’t always easy, and it rarely looks like it did for the generation before. The next generation of cattle producers may not always wear the same clothes or talk the same way or follow the same exact systems. But the industry doesn’t need carbon copies. It needs evolution. It needs new eyes on old problems. And it needs the willingness to welcome different perspectives while still honoring the values that built it in the first place.
What’s often overlooked is the role that connection plays in sustaining agriculture. While cattle markets and genetics and policy are important, so are meals shared around sale barns, handshakes at cattlemen’s conventions, and the stories passed down in letters, books, and long conversations with friends. This industry has always been about people. And those relationships are the glue that holds it all together — even when challenges come, as they inevitably do.
There’s a sense of pride that comes with knowing you’re part of something larger. Whether you're a first-generation cattleman with ten head or the descendant of a multi-generational ranching family with thousands, your work matters. Your story matters. And your presence helps shape where the industry is going next. It’s easy to think history is something fixed in the past. But in agriculture, history is alive — shaping markets, influencing culture, and reminding us that we didn’t get here alone.
No matter where you come from, if you’re raising cattle, you’re part of a story that’s still being written. And that’s a legacy worth holding onto.
