Crossing the Threshold

“This poem is about the anxieties experienced as an immigrant and person of color. I”m sure others have also had similar experiences. As I reflected on the events triggered by racism in this country and the impacts of those events on me, as a minority, many of my own experiences came to the surface, including the ones reflected here.”

Traveling is a freedom, a privilege.

Adventures and new discoveries usually await.

Excitement and happiness lead the way.

But then I have to cross the threshold of belonging.

And that shakes me and brings doubts to my disdain.

Stay close to my husband.

Our eyes connect.

Keep your distance.

Within grasp, just in case.

A feeling of uneasiness grows stronger.

There is fear.

Anxiety.

As my heart races faster my pulse keeping pace.

Wondering if everything will be okay.

Do I belong in their side? Will they welcome me back?

Do they look at me different?

Do they want to know more?

Don’t make eye contact.

Stay quiet.

It’s better that way.

As I cross the threshold,

I look back at my soulmate.

Please keep me safe.

Don’t lose sight of me.

I might need your help,

I might need you to come by.

I might need you to speak for me.

I might need you to tell them that I belong in your arms.

Maybe one day I’ll get used to it?

I have your back, my sweetheart

Just calm down.

I would never let anything happen to you.

I see your eyes on me. I’m here.

I see you.

I would never let anything happen to you.

I’ll protect you and everything will be okay, my love.

Maybe one day I will feel that I belong…

I wonder…

While walking…

Feelings of anxiety, fear, uneasiness, discomfort.

Based on what’s happening to others that look like me around the country.

I wonder if those feelings of hatred are also around me?

As I walk around my town…

Hatred has been encouraged.

Division is rampant in our country.

I wonder…

Who’s on my side?

What others in the other side think when they see me?

Is my life in danger?

Will I ever know that my life is in danger?

Will I only know that my life was in danger after something happens?

After I don’t have any recourse or anyway of protecting myself?

I wonder…

I don’t want to feel this way.

It’s exhausting to feel this way.

We all have challenges in our lives.

I don’t want this extra burden.

I don’t want to be fearful, anxious, uncomfortable, uneasy.

I don’t want to wonder.

I don’t want to wonder but I don’t think I have been given a choice.

Based on who I am,

I’ve been forced to wonder.

I’ve been forced to deal with a reality that I don’t like, but it exists around me.

I wish I could be different.

I wish I could be in a more peaceful place.

I wish I wouldn’t have these thoughts today.

The wondering thoughts drain my energy.

The wondering thoughts drain my soul.

A heavy burden.

Sometimes I wish I had a lighter load.

My mind wanders to places that are painful.

The suffering of others causes pain.

The unfairness in the world causes pain.

There’s heaviness in my heart.

In my mind.

In my soul.

As I wonder, as my mind wanders.

I’m blessed with love, others are not in this world.

Maybe that’s what I should tell myself, to lessen the pain…

When my mind wonders.

How blessed I am having love in my life, unconditional, pure love!

But my mind wanders.

Hurting

The country is in despair. We are in the midst of not only a pandemic but in the midst of awful events that have happened recently where racial minorities have been killed – murdered. Racism is on the spotlight as the country struggles to acknowledge the social and economic disparities affecting racial minorities in the United States.

As a Hispanic in this country, watching and listening to the news and seeing graphic videos of violence against African-Americans and Hispanics have been overwhelming. I share the fear, anxiety, and pain of those who have been insulted, disrespected, abused, oppressed, and discriminated against. I hurt as many others do and the pain is real.

As I embark on many walks trying to clear my head, I can’t seem to be able to push away the ugly reality that surrounds me. In a way, I feel compelled to think and reflect and to not forget the pain that others have experienced, especially those who lost their life without reason – their execution driven by irreverence and violence toward persons of color. As I observe these atrocities committed toward others that look like me, I wonder if something similar could ever happen to me.

My Initial Encounter with Diversity and Racism

I left Puerto Rico more than 34 years ago, when I went to Michigan to pursue graduate studies. As a 21-year old heading toward graduate school, I really did not think much about the significance of that moment – my life changed forever.

I enjoyed graduate school immensely. I attended the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. The world became my backyard, as I met friends from all over the globe. I was like a sponge, taking in all the experiences as part of the journey. My exposure to diversity enriched my knowledge of people and cultures. But there was also a different perspective that was thrown into the picture – one that I have not previously experienced. In the United States, diversity began to take a different connotation focused on race and ethnicity.

I never saw myself as a member of a racial group before I came to the United States. I was Puerto Rican. In Puerto Rico, there is a kaleidoscope of skin colors – a mosaic that transcends a singular defined race. The road of racial differentiation started when I had to fill the application to attend graduate school. The form asked about race and ethnicity. Hispanic was in the list, so I checked the box. That was the first time that I distinguished myself as Hispanic. This event seemed trivial, but eventually impacted my views about diversity and my life experiences. From that point on, I was in a ‘box’ – the Hispanic box – and labeled a minority.

The minority seed germinated in my psyche, developing and growing as I was being assimilated into the American culture. I wondered about the inquiring questions of the application. Why did it matter? As it turned out, I got into graduate school with a minority scholarship, so I adopted the Hispanic classification with pride and moved on. I would have never being able to attend graduate school if it was not for that scholarship. Being a minority gave me the opportunity to go to graduate school. I did not think much about the full meaning of my new label.

Living in the United States I found out that the minority label never leaves you. The color of my skin and my accent always gave away the fact that I was different. Everywhere I went, I would be asked about my origins. Eventually I also discovered that the undertones of being a minority were not always positive. I learned that minorities also experience discrimination – a reality that was uncomfortable to bear.

As I entered the workforce, I participated in diversity awareness seminars and found out that employers were focusing on training employees to respect differences and prevent discrimination. I ended up in a leadership role for the diversity training in my workplace. It was assumed that because I was a minority I should be able to help train employees. However, I have never experienced discrimination and I was actually learning myself from the experiences of other minorities. I was proud to be Puerto Rican – and Hispanic. But I was also an American citizen, so I didn’t quite understood the necessity for racial differentiation. I ended up meeting some fellow co-workers that had experienced discrimination and I joined in the cause to illuminate others about diversity.

Eventually, as life would have it, I also ended up experiencing discrimination. I then understood the pain that other fellow minorities have experienced in the United States. The discriminatory experience resulted in a scar to my soul that still generates pain when touched. The scar is a reminder of the awful reality of racism.

I will never forget my first encounter with racism. It has never be easy for me to open up about my first experience with discrimination or about being a racial minority in this country. Living in the United States opened my eyes in ways that sadden me. I have been touched by the dark tentacles of racial discrimination. I’m no longer ‘virgin’ to the terrible impacts of its darkness. I now can relate to other racial minorities.

Today I gathered the courage to write about this. Bringing awareness to this tough topic is important and relevant to the times that we live in today. Many in this country are experiencing difficult times while the news relate the hate expressed to minorities in many fronts. The openness of this hate is hurtful.

When racism against minorities is expressed openly it hurts. It impacts my daily life. I can’t rip off my skin to show a different color or magically get rid of my Hispanic accent. The pain saddens my soul.

I decided to write this today because my sister had a recent negative experience related to this topic that inspired me.  I also decided to write about this today because these type of experiences define our souls.  Despite the pain, I believe it is important for me to confront these emotions, as they are part of my soul-searching journey and who I am today.

Furloughed

I work for the federal government and my agency is currently experiencing a shutdown.  That means that I’m furloughed – which in simple words means that I’m not allowed to work and thus, I’m not receiving a paycheck.

The furlough started while I was in Puerto Rico for the Holidays.  Today is day 26 of the government shutdown with no end in sight.

If you follow up the politics you know that the President didn’t fund the government, as he didn’t get the billions of dollars that he was asking to build a wall between the United States and Mexico.  The topic of the wall has been a difficult one for me to deal with since Trump was promising a wall when he was campaigning for the Presidency.  Even before Trump became President, his comments about immigrants from Mexico and other Hispanic countries were offensive and discriminatory.  Nothing has changed since then.

In my opinion, the views about Mexican and other Hispanic immigrants and the fear that Trump is trying to create by saying that we need a wall is nothing more than an attempt to prevent people in need to come to this country and earn a decent living.  Immigrants are not taking jobs from Americans.  However, most of them have brown skin and that in my opinion, is the biggest reason why immigrants from Mexico and South America are been discriminated against.  To me this is the same old racism that has existed in the United States since its beginnings.  I thought there was progress about acceptance of diversity in this country.  However, the actions of Trump and his supporters during his campaign and now during his Administration tells me that racial discrimination in this country is alive and well.  Trump has not only offended minorities, but has opened the door to blatant racism and discriminatory language in this country.

I would like to get my job back and would also like to get paid for my job.  However, I don’t support building the wall and as such, I’m willing to be furloughed for the cause.

 

Cheering myself up through Hamilton

If you are a Hamilton musical fan a lot of these thoughts will make sense.  If you are not, I hope that you can follow my thoughts anyway.

Work has been very hard lately. I have felt like I ran out of steam. Or maybe I should say that I am running out of steam, to be a bit hopeful that maybe there is some steam left?

Hamilton, the musical, helped restart the engine, the light, the steam!

There has been so many things happening during the last couple of years. They have been painful years…Trump won the election and became President two years ago. I work for a federal agency whose mission has not been supported by the new Administration. In addition, I’m a Hispanic woman and Hispanics and minorities have been attacked in the public arena. It has felt like my life has gone through an emotional roller coaster. Maybe not a roller coaster, because there were more ‘downs’ than ‘ups.’ A tumultuous couple of years – defining years- as I will figure out and reflect again about my purpose. There were a lot of down times – sadness, fear, uncertainty. My confidence shaken, a feeling of loss of value. I have felt belittled, insulted, offended as a minority Hispanic woman in the United States, and an immigrant. At times I felt hopeless, depressed, lost. It has taken me a couple of years to recover, to be where I am today.

To better understand where I am today, I feel like I need to look back, re-examine, re-evaluate, pick-up the pieces to be whole again, find the lessons that were given through times of desperation, find my worth and value again, rediscover who I am, my purpose, my gift. I need to take a SHOT at life and pursue my life purpose – WRITING!

What does Hamilton have to do with all this? A lot…

Running out of steam…I know how that feels like. But I can get up again…RISE UP! I have been there. I know I can do it. I can make it to the finish line.

“Set up your eyes on what lies ahead after the finish line – not what you have to go through to make it to the finish line.” — IS

There might be pain, but your mind can take you to the finish line. It’s like running a marathon! Every time I think about the marathon, a smile appears in my face. That was such an accomplishment. Such SisuSisu is a Finnish word that is hard to translate to English.  It means something like being gutsy or determined.  But in reality it is a lot more than that.  (I will be writing more on the Finnish connection later).

When I ran the Detroit marathon years ago, I collapsed twice! Think about it. Not once, but twice! But I got up – RISE UP! – and I finished the marathon ‘standing’ with a smile on my face that was recorded by the photographer at the finish line. How in the world did that happened? It happened because of who I am. I am persistent. I am passionate, gutsy. I never give up when something is on the line. So there is a no reason to give up, regardless of the pain and suffering experienced some days. The journey to the finish line will always have ups and downs. But having a goal in mind will take me to the finish line and beyond – retirement and maybe a book as an outcome of this blog! It will happen because I will not give up. I might feel like collapsing, like running out of steam, but I will get up – RISE UP!

I WILL NOT THROW AWAY MY SHOT!

Miss Universe 2018

Another Miss Universe…

I have watched Miss Universe since I was little. It has always been exciting to follow the Puerto Rico contestant. Puerto Rico has done very well in Miss Universe, winning multiple times. I’m not sure how many times, but multiple times for sure; more than other countries.

It is always exciting to watch Miss Universe. This is one of those times that Puerto Rico competes as an independent nation and this is one of the reasons why I will never want to become a state. Competing as an independent nation in Miss Universe and sports competitions, like the Olympics, has always been one of the highlights of being Puerto Rican. During these competitions it is when your Puerto Rican pride comes blasting full force against all countries in the world, including the United States. As a Puerto Rican, I will always root for Puerto Rico against the United States. The loyalty to Puerto Rico is unequivocal.

This is one line in the sand that gets drawn during every international competition. Puerto Rico is a territory of the United States. As such, Puerto Rico competes as an independent nation. If Puerto Rico was a state, we would not be able to compete as a separate nation. To other Americans this might feel shallow or unimportant. But for Puerto Ricans, and me, this is extremely important. At these competitions, the spirit of Puerto Rico comes to life, thriving and roaring like a lion. At these moments, the little island in the Caribbean shines as bright as the big powers of the world, including the United States.

I’m an American citizen, but during Miss Universe and many other international competitions, I will always, always root for Puerto Rico.

Let’s see what happens… go Puerto Rico! It will be great to show the world that we are here and stronger than ever, despite the struggles that we faced after hurricane Maria. We rise again!

The Cockfighting Wars

I always keep up with the Puerto Rican newspaper to learn about what’s going on in the island. After all, I’m Puerto Rican. So even though I live thousands of miles from the island, my immediate family still lives in Puerto Rico. But to be honest, I don’t follow the Puerto Rican news because of my family. I follow the news because my journey of self-discovery attempting to understand my soul and emotions is very much related to my Puerto Rican heritage. Anyway, I will be talking about all that later, but for now I want to share my emotions about the recent news.

The United States Congress declared cockfighting illegal and these news have dominated the newspapers and discussions in the island, from the poorest towns to the highest government officials, including the Governor of Puerto Rico. Amazingly, the cockfighting prohibition awakened the soul of Puerto Ricans like nothing else before. Why? I will share my own feelings about this, because I found myself reacting similarly to those living in Puerto Rico. Congress drew a line in the sand and I knew immediately where I stood – and it was not with the United States.

When I read the news, I was appalled. Somehow the news triggered a reaction in my soul that called for rebellion and disgust. The recent prohibition from Congress was a blatant exercise of United States colonialism. Yes, Puerto Rico is a colony of the United States and the recent act against cockfighting provides an unequivocal example of the colonial relationship between the United States and Puerto Rico. There are a lot of complicated aspects ingrained in this relationship that started in 1898 when United States attacked Puerto Rico during the Spanish American War and took control of the island from Spain. I have been doing a lot of research about this through my journey of self-discovery and the feelings awakened by this research will probably surface through a lot of my writings.

Today I wanted to share that I’m siding with Puerto Ricans and my position is clear and cemented by my Puerto Rican roots. I had the same feelings of the many Puerto Ricans that have expressed their disgust with Congress’ action against cockfighting. I find myself in a place that could be hard to understand by other Americans. Yes, I’m an American by birth – I was born in Puerto Rico and I’m an American citizen. But I’m drawn to Puerto Rico and its struggles by my coqui soul. That I can’t refute. My soul picked a side – that of Puerto Rico – and there is nothing I can do. I should say that I don’t want to do anything differently. I feel proud to pick Puerto Rico as my side. The purpose of this journey is to find clarity and peace. Through my rebellious reaction to Congress’ action, I experienced clarity and peace.

I’m against colonialism. The recent lack of action from the United States toward Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria clearly displayed the worst of colonialism. With the cockfighting prohibition, the United States again take control over the island as a master over its slave. There is no consideration for Puerto Ricans and its culture. I have never participated in a cockfight before. But I don’t need to. My grandfather did. Cockfighting is part of the Puerto Rican culture. Like bullfighting is part of the Spanish culture. I love animals, and it saddens me that I have to pick a side that might not align with my love for animals. But, it’s a matter of principle. The ruling against cockfighting is a ruling for colonialism.

If you think this is a big contradiction, you are right. That is what I live with – a big contradiction of loyalty toward my Puerto Rico and loyalty toward the United States. Loyalty toward my values and love of animals and rebellion against the prohibition. The dichotomy has been present – and will most likely be present throughout my entire life. But understanding why that dichotomy exists and understanding its roots, are the main reasons why I started this journey.

It is complicated. I will continue to explore my feelings in an attempt to better understand my soul. The path will be full of contradictions, but nevertheless, I need to do this because getting to know my soul and finding its voice is needed for my survival.

Today I stand against colonialism. I stand for Puerto Rico. My coqui soul knows which side I should be with. I’m standing strong with my fellow Puerto Ricans.

Finding myself – it has been a tough road

We are all different. Why am I struggling so much recently about who I am, where I come from, questioning if I fit in? I wondered if I have changed who I am deep inside me in order to fit in. Have I become a different person (a fake?) to fit in? Why was it needed and/or necessary? Why do I struggle with feeling confident and valued? Maybe it is because of all the messages out there (before and after the election) – negativity towards immigrants, Hispanics, minorities, women. It is hard to not take those hurtful comments personally. What am I supposed to do – it feels personal because it hurts at a personal level. The insults and offenses, targeting minorities, Hispanics like me. How can I ignore, forget, move on? I have tried during the past couple of years to do that, but it has not worked. The negativity, the messages are all around me and they spill into not only my personal but work life.

What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to leave the feelings behind me, leave them at the door when I go to work? To me, that’s like asking a person to leave behind ‘at the door’ who they are. Ignoring what’s happening in this country (especially after the election) feels like betraying myself. I can’t hide the color of my skin, I can’t hide my accent, I can’t leave my ‘values’ behind me when I come to work or when I interact with others. That’s why it is so hard to not take things ‘personal.’ The negative messages hit my core, my soul, and my values. They hit deep and they hit hard. They have shaken my confidence. They have caused fear and distrust. Maybe writing all this will be like ‘therapy’ for my soul. At least I will have an avenue to express my voice, express my pain, express my frustration, and express myself.