Latina Pride

Here I am listening to Olga Meredith’s “Paciencia y Fe” song on the In the Heights soundtrack. This is probably the most important song in the musical, for it sets the tone for the entire show. It’s a song about the Latino experience, whether in our native countries or in America. If you’ve never heard it, I strongly advise you to do so. I’m sure it’s on YouTube or maybe on the show’s actual site.

In the song Olga talks about life “back home”, in Cuba: the sky full of stars, the birds, the heat, the poorness, the hunger, the anger, but also, she talks about life in America: the discrimination, the lack of good jobs, the language barrier issue, the ambition, the bravery, the faith, the dreams. I mean, really, the song is incredibly passionate, heartfelt, and above all, real. It’s definitely one of my favorite songs on the soundtrack and one of my favorite songs period.

Listening to “Paciencia y Fe” brought back memories of a conversation I had once and it completely changed my perspective. Listen up:

One night I was hanging out with some friends when two of the guys there asked me a question that they had already asked me before, but the first time it was brushed off with no further discussion. The guys were African-American and their question was: “what influential individuals do Puerto Rican people have to be proud of?” I answered with what I knew off the top of my head and I said Tito Puente, one of the greatest artists in Latin Jazz, Rita Moreno, the first female entertainer to win all four major awards (Grammy, Emmy, Tony, Oscar), and Antonia Novello, a brilliant doctor who served as the surgeon general of the United States between the years of 1990-1993. In my eyes, these people were, indeed, influential individuals, people of substance, and is that not what was in question? The original question was: whom do Puerto Ricans have to be proud of? An accomplishment is an accomplishment, at any level, and it’s something to be proud of. However, the people I mentioned were not good enough for them. They wanted individuals that can be compared to the likings of Martin Luther King Jr., Malcolm X, or Nelson Mandela: people who changed the world in some way.

I respected their objections, but my first thought was that these people are so famously known, and they did what they did because they had no other option; they had no other route to take. They were under an immense amount of pressure that could’ve only been tackled by the extreme. Therefore, they took actions that reflected their troubles. I believed Puerto Ricans were never under such severe circumstances to bring about such reactions. Yes, we were discriminated against, but it cannot be compared to the discrimination African Americans experienced. These were my initial thoughts. The fact that Puerto Ricans were also enslaved in their own country, that we were colonized and used and abused (think: Vieques), and that many people on the island fought hard to make a difference didn’t come to mind. My brain wasn’t prepared for such a question and I felt upset that I didn’t have the knowledge to tackle this situation. However, these men managed to challenge me. After speaking to them, I wanted to learn everything concerning Puerto Rican people; the time before the United States took control, the time after, life on the island, and migration to the states. I was hoping to find prominent Puerto Rican people that I could be proud of under anyone’s standards, and, indeed, I did.

I learned of many prominent, successful, intelligent individuals. People like Luis Munoz Marin, Pedro Albizu Campos, Ricardo E. Alegria, Victor A. Carreno, and many others. But still, I constantly thought about my initial motivation while I advanced in my research. The truth is I am not sure why these men questioned me the way they did about people of the same ethnicity as mine; I don’t know if they were doing it out of genuine interest, to challenge me, or to demean me. I must admit I did find their question a bit offensive at the time, but it is because of their question that I embarked on this wonderful journey to discovering my roots, my heritage, and my culture, which has given me a reason to be proud of where I come from.

But now as I listened to Meredith’s voice I realized that I didn’t have to do all that research to name Puerto Rican individuals worthy of praise. I only had to look within myself and think of my mother, my grandmother, my father. These are people who took a risk, left everything they knew about, to embark on a journey in search for a better life for their family. My race is full of women and men who took the poor jobs with horrible wages that no one else would take, and made a living off it; It’s full of men and women who are driven, brave, hopeful, and who were able to continue to dream through all of the chaos. The simple stories in our own family’s history are stories full of pride. Stories like the one Esmeralda Santiago tells us in When I was Puerto Rican, or like Christina Garcia’s Dreaming in Cuban, or Junot Diaz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, or in Miguel Pinero’s poetry. These are the stories and the people that I’m most proud of.

Thank you, Meredith. If only I had listened to you that night.

My Love Song To No One

Gravity is working against me.

I’ve fallen for you, baby.

Can I smell you?

Can I taste you?

Tell me you want me to.

Whisper it softly in my ear.

So I can scream it out loud.

Can I seduce you?

Can I sex you?

Tell me you need me to.

That you won’t have it any other way.

That we’re 2 halves looking to be whole.

Can I have you?

Can I keep you?

Tell me that I can.

Come on, tell me…Tell me that I can.

Real Life Story

You say it’s the bitter truth

And I ask,

What’s so bitter about it?

It’s real.

Real Life Story…

For a long time, I settled for good enough. Not far from the usual love story. Most of us are settling. The cause of it is that in real life we constantly meet people who never turn out to be right for us, for one reason or another. This isn’t a fairy tale. This is real life. So, what seems logical is to finally settle for someone who is remotely close to what we are looking for. So we do, but this practicality is causing me to lose my sanity.

But there I was. There he was. We met. We talked. We laughed. Love at first sight. Everything was right. Except that everything wasn’t right. Love was right. Time was wrong. So there I wasn’t. He left. We forgot. Silence. Back to sobbing. Love over. Broken-hearted.

Go Figure.

When did meeting that special someone become so hard?

I’m at my apartment watching television and I’ve seen so many commercials advertising websites for single people to go on and meet other single people. There is eharmony.com, match.com, and I even saw christianmingle.com (This one is strictly for Christians) (Are they serious?). I also know of many people who have met through Internet sites such as MySpace or Facebook. It seems like meeting someone in person is pretty much out the question. There aren’t too many people meeting at the park, or at a gathering, or at work. In these places people are too busy to meet others. At the park they are spending time with their children; at the gathering they are catching up with their friends; and at work they are doing just that, working. See, that’s just the main excuse: “I’m too busy to meet someone”. So, they go online to meet others because that’s the only time they can. Well, there’s only one thing I have to say to that: You mustn’t be too busy when you’re online on any of these sites! People should invest the same amount of time that they spend in front of their PC’s into going out and socializing with real, live people. I think we have become afraid of human contact. Not only do we prefer to meet people online; we also communicate with each other in completely different ways than ten years ago. People much rather send an email than talk face to face or, better yet, people rather have entire conversations through text rather than to pick up the phone and call each other, but anyhow I digress. My initial question was: When did meeting that special someone become so hard?

Dear you, (you know who you are)

I fall for anything you say.

You fuck with my head and I don’t care.

I still love you.

I still love you.

No one fills my void better than you.

I’m addicted to your touch.

Whenever I don’t have it I’m going through withdrawals

I will give to you until there’s nothing left to give.

It’s funny.

Even the fights are good.

But the making up is even better.

Many times I feel you are my everything.

Many times I know I need you.

You make me shiver, like none other.

This love is brutal, but what real love isn’t.

Boy, you

Break

Me

Down.

Inspired by "Fall for Anything" By The Script

The Bronx On American Idol

I had promised to give up watching American Idol after they fired Paula, not because I cared that Paula wouldn’t be there anymore, but because I honestly got sick of it. However, now that Jennifer Lopez is a judge on the show, I definitely had to tune in and support my girl. So, here I go. The show was…ordinary. There wasn’t anyone that really stood out, except for the last young man who ended the show. He didn’t stand out because of his singing ability, although, he was pretty good, but because of where he was from: The Bronx. I found it quite hysterical that the young guy (I can’t remember his name) gave the typical Bronx sob story. He and his family were living in a shelter; the only things that surround him in his neighborhood are drugs, murders, and gangs. More over, the American Idol cameras made sure to show cop cars and an ambulance at full speed. Again, the images and the story was a perfect suit for the typical stereotype of a Bronx neighborhood.

I was born and raised in The Bronx, and while I can say that yes, there are some troubled kids and rough neighborhoods, I can also say that I have never been in a gang, never witnessed a murder or a shooting (shit, this isn’t Bosnia), none of my friends or family have been gang members, and although I have seen people who look like they are on drugs, and they might very well be under the influence of some illegal substance, the use of drugs nor the dealing of illegal drugs were ever present in my family experience. What I did see while living in The Bronx were mothers and fathers who work two or three jobs to provide for their family, kids riding the school bus on their way to learn and explore, neighbors going to church, children playing in the park, and families living and laughing.

This entire situation was reminiscent of the reviews “In the Heights” received when it first opened. The critics said that the show was definitely “washed down”, but good. When asked what he thought about the critics’ comments, Lin simply said that drugs and violence were not part of his experience. AMEN, brother. News flash! American Idol: There is a lot more to The Bronx than what you showed today. If you have any doubt, just take a look at one of your fellow judges. Jennifer Lopez was born and raised in The Bronx, and she is the embodiment of eloquence, determination, intelligence, success, ambition, talent, and maybe, just maybe, the epitome of everything the people in The Bronx are about.

"Dear Ben"

So I haven’t blogged in a while… It’s not because I haven’t had anything worth blogging about, because I have. I just haven’t had any time. My newborn and my older son are keeping me very busy; the newborn more than the older one. But anyway, here I go again…

“Dear Ben”,

How can you be the same physical person, but yet so different?

I know people change. It happens all the time. Change is proof of growth, but you haven’t just changed; you have become a different person. A completely different person. Over the time in which I have experienced your alteration, I have learned how much the physical doesn’t matter, because although I see the same person, I still miss you terribly. I miss your actions: your affection, your smiles, your sweet gestures…I long for all of the things your body cannot replace.

I remember when you went out your way to see me smile. Because that was the only thing that was important to you. Even when I was a spoiled bitch, you didn’t care. You would look at me and say something silly, or simply smile and I could see the love in your eyes, which will make us laugh and forget all about what got us upset. When I think of these times now, I can’t help but feel like I was living in a fantasy.

I remember the love letters you wrote to me almost every day, although we saw each other almost every day, and spoke on the phone for hours and hours a day. You would still find time to write me a love letter. My love letters are so very special because unlike in the older times when love letters were common, when lovers were separated by wars and distance, you wrote to me when you could have just called or dropped by. You put your feelings for me in writing when you could have just spoke them and that makes them all so very much more extraordinary. You were really so perfect.

I remember that weekend when you took me away from all of my problems and all of life’s stresses and made me eat and laugh like I hadn’t done in a long time. Simply a dream…a dream come true.

All of these things (and more) made me love you with a strength that has even surprised me many times. They are stronger than any gift you have given me, and stronger than the physical attraction I still have for you.

I miss you… I miss you terribly although you are lying right next to me now.