Puerto Rico

To Be Puerto Rican...

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Growing up, I struggled with self image.  I was born to a father in the military who was stationed in Germany and both of my parents were Puerto Rican.  On the military bases, there was a community of Puerto Ricans who got together to do parrandas, a caroling tradition in Puerto Rico, during Christmas time and spoke Spanish.  My dad sang and played guitar while others played the güiro and slapped the tambour.  That's what I knew in my younger years.  I mean, there were other cultures in the community but I didn't feel any prejudice.  There were Asians, Blacks, Whites and Hispanics all throughout the community and I didn't recall being told I was different because of the color of my skin.  I guess that's what it is to be a military brat.  Just knowing there is going to be all kinds of culture around you. When I moved to Florida,  things were very different.  Orlando is permeated with Puerto Ricans either the island of Puerto Rico, Chicago, or New York.  I was not from any of those places.  It was strange because I was either not Puerto Rican enough or I didn't come from New York so I didn't fit in.  Throughout middle and high school, I struggled with who I really was.  I spoke English really well so to the Puerto Ricans I was too "White" and to the everyone else I was too brown.  None of it made any sense.

Finally, when I got to college.  I threw aside what I was defined to be during my high school years.  I decided to be myself and learn what I could about my culture.  I did enjoy reggaeton but I wanted to know the history of Puerto Rico.  I wanted to speak better Spanish to understand my relatives.  I wanted to learn how to dance salsa, merengue, and cha cha.  And that's what I did.

I became President of the Puerto Rican organization on campus and through planning events, I learned about things I didn't even know.  I learned about bomba and plena, African dances from Puerto Rico's history.  I understood the battle for independence from the Grito de Lares and how Lares has amazing flavors in ice cream like corn and rice and beans...ha!  I also decided to make a conscious effort to visit my family in Puerto Rico at least every two years.

The most important lesson out of all of this is that no one can define who you are.  I embrace my culture through it's history, the beautiful land and beaches, and through my family.  I believe all cultures have their beauty.  However, I am Puerto Rican and no one can take that away from me.

Ignorance is Bliss

I'm normally fairly positive however there is one thing that bothers me, maybe because I've been a victim of it in my younger years, discrimination.  In light of recent events, Marc Anthony was ridiculed via Twitter for singing "America" because it was thought to be un-American.  I am floored by these kinds of comments only because 1.  He was born in New York.  2.  He is Puerto Rican.  (Puerto Rico is a common wealth of the U.S. and those who live there are American citizens).  3.  Spanish is the 2nd most widely spoken language in the world.  4.  The U.S. is a melting pot.  Yes, he's a Grammy winning artist, but that shouldn't matter at all, right?.  :-/  Not even a months ago, members of the University of Southern Mississippi chanted to a Puerto Rican basketball player, "Where's your Green card?"  Ignorance. images

I think its sad that most Americans don't know their own history.  Every single one of us are descendants of immigrants in one form or fashion.  It is even said to believe that Native American came over from Eurasia over the Bering Strait.  Anyone with European ancestors had to get here somehow.  Because Hispanics speak a different language, it doesn't mean we're any less American than anyone else.  I don't speak Mexican or Puerto Rican.  I speak Spanish, English, and a little Italian. :-)

My father served in the U.S. Army for over 30 years and retired as a Lt. Colonel.  I still cry when I hear the National Anthem and I have several cousins who serve in the military.  I'm proud to be in this country.  But as soon as I go to a community that is not used to the way I look, I get criticized.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what they think.  I still love my curly hair and brown skin.  I love the fact I speak more than one language and I'm proud of my culture.  I love the fact that I get excited to know there's a whole pig being cooked in the backyard.  The list goes on and on.  All of our differences, cultures, beliefs and so on is what makes this country beautiful.  It's the ignorance that makes us ugly.