Roots

"In all of us there is a hunger, marrow deep, to know our heritage -- to know who we are and where we came from.  Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning.  No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, the most disquieting loneliness." - Alex Haley

Pedro, Virginia, Celina and Victor

My grandmother Celina had three siblings: Pedro, Virginia, and Victor.  I grew up knowing of and seeing these three siblings pretty regularly -- even the ones, who as far back as I can remember, lived in Puerto Rico.  We were always aware of their presence and what part they played in our family construct.  Them, their children, and their children's children, for the most part, were a part of our extended, yet familiar, family.  As a kid, you don't think about "sides"-- especially not in the household I was raised in.  Family was pretty much anyone who showed up to our numerous gatherings (birthdays, holidays, or 'today is a good day for a party' parties).  I never looked at them as "Ma's side" or "Pa's side".  It wasn't until I was much older that I realized most of the "friends" were my dad's and most of the "blood" was my mom's.

My (paternal) great grandparents celebrating their 50th anniversary with (most of) their children

My grandmother Maria has twelve, yes twelve siblings.  Yes, ALL from the same mother and father.  Two years ago, this was news to me.  How I could go 29 years on this planet without knowing, speaking to, or even remember seeing one relative of my grandmother's is pretty amazing to me.  But, I've learned that in life there are many layers to a story.  One man's priority is not necessarily another's.  One man's belief could be another man's cheap joke...just as one man's treasure could be another man's trash.  My Spanish is now advanced enough that I feel confident in seeking out, talking to, and hopefully developing some sort of relationship with these siblings on my own.  Not all are still alive, but a good majority of them are.  I am seeking stories, old pictures, and clarity on the enigma that is Mama Maria.  I also know that deep down, I'm still looking for pieces of my biological grandfather through them.  Maybe one of them happens to have a story, some information or better yet - a picture of him!  Highly unlikely, and virtually impossible, but a girl could dream -- right?

Family seems to be a touchy subject with that crew.  From the limited conversations I've had with Mama Maria, I sense hurt, tension, secrets, and resentment.  Even in my limited interaction with the few members I have met thus far, well, I've never seen a family so disconnected.

5 minutes of heaven for me! Mama and some of her sisters.

There are glimmers of hope though.  Last summer I left a note in my Titi Rosa's mailbox explaining that I would love to meet her and encouraged her to call me sometime.  She did one better, she gathered two of her other sisters and a niece, and surprised Mama with a midday visit (looking for me)!  Luckily, I was able to spend a small amount of time with them on my lunch break.  But, when I later called Titi Rosa to try to setup a weekend lunch gathering with her and her sisters, she was obviously hesitant and non-commital.  Weirdness.  There is another sister that supposedly lives in the same neighborhood as Mama, yet in the year and a half that I've been here, I've NEVER seen her.  No visitations, no calls, nada.  Supposedly her daughter recently got married.  No invite.  More weirdness.  Then, there's Tio Robert, whom shortly after I returned from New York this summer, randomly reached out to Mama and expressed interest in seeing her and meeting me.  It was as if there was some divine intervention at work because upon my return to la isla, I had decided that I wanted to at least meet and take a picture with every living sibling Mama had left -- before the end of the year.  My parents happened to be in PR during this time, so we jumped in the car and headed over to Tio Roberto's --- but not before stopping to see my great grandparent's old house.

Tio Robert!

So, how are Tio Robert and his wife?  Beautiful, warm, and welcoming people!  It seems that Tio Robert has a yearning to keep in touch with his family as well.  He seems genuinely interested in doing what I'm hoping to do -- unite the siblings.  He politely admits its challenging, and obviously stifles any further commentary.  I can't help but feel that one of those challenges was sitting in the living room that day (you know, she goes by the name of Maria).

I honestly cannot wait to get him and his wife alone and comfortable.  Hopefully they will open up and layer by layer, history will unfold.  The Angela Lansbury in me is super excited, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a wee bit concerned that asking too many questions may get me in hot water.  There is an obvious disparity within this bloodline and at times, it feels like even simple questions have the potential to ruffle feathers and result in a blacklist.  But, this is a risk I have to take.  This is my history and subsequently my children's history.  I cannot deny the obvious "...hunger, marrow deep, to know..."

Where Mama Maria grew up.  One of her sisters still lives here.

PS- Tio Robert and I had a lovely conversation today.  We're getting together after church tomorrow.  It is then that I will begin to ask for pictures.

PPS - We did get together after church.  Exciting stuff. The story continues later this week in my next post.

Forward Movement?

Is it ok to go back in order to move forward?  Upon first glance, I believe most would answer "no".  Lot's wife turned into a pillar of salt for looking back, Henry David Thoreau said "Never look back unless you are planning to go that way", and I just wouldn't be me if I didn't recognize Andre 3,000 when (in one of my favorite songs to this day) he gleefully boasts "Spaceships don't come equipped with rear view mirrors/They dip as quick as they can..."

Now, back to Thoreau who said "Never look back unless you are planning to go that way".  I hear him, and interpreting this quote depends on what set of eyes you're wearing today.  This could be a forewarning of doom and gloom, danger and wasted time.  Heartache, pain, quicksand, if you will.  Or, it could symbolize a sort of purposeful journey for atonement.  We've been warned that most times its one of the bigger pitfalls of human beings, believing that they can make right what once went wrong.  Based on television, movies, and even books, we get a sort of mixed message.  If the protagonist is trying to make up for wrongdoing or lost time, well they're usually undeniably charming, genuine and successful.  But, if the protagonist is the one needing closure through revenge...well, then sorry Charlie, atonement, totally not happening.

So where do I weigh in on this?  I agree with Thoreau 100%.  You can't look back thinking your not going to go backwards a bit.  I did it.  A year and a half ago, I looked back at the sorry excuse for a relationship I had with my grandmother and I decided to go back --- back to my "roots", back to the confusion that narrated chunks of my childhood, and back to me.  See, time progressed and I simply moved forward.  At a certain point, entertaining everyone around me became all I could identify with.  Sure, I was "moving forward", but there was a staccato-like progression.  Looking back forced me to grow, to look in the mirror, to deal.  My grandmother will never change, no matter how many pictures of our family I throw in her face, she will still have the same half interested tone and demeanor she's always had.  But, I know who she is now, and as a result, I can accept her...today, yesterday, and tomorrow.

We can't control people.  We can't make them into who we think they should be, force them to act how we think they should act, or expect them to see us how we see ourselves.  We can control how we treat them though.  No, its not always easy.  Believe me.  Hearing, reading, and/or seeing adverse responses to you and your character when you are trying as hard as they are to get through this roller coaster called life --- well it can down right hurt and enrage you.  Sometimes you just want to look them in the eye and say "Damn it Mama, just say sorry!  Just say you made some freakin' mistakes and you wish things were different!"; "Damn it (fill in name here), it is NOT all about you!  Everything everyone does is not a testimony to your worth or lack thereof! Find your confidence, find yourself, and lose the dark cloud Linus!!"; "I'm sorry things didn't work out (fill in name here), but if you're really honest with yourself, you know that it was NEVER yours to begin with!"  I digress.

Looking back taught me what love is.  Unconditional love.  Doing things when you don't want to, not doing things when you do want to, finding the strength to go the extra mile, coming face to face with the mistakes you've made and owning up to them.  Humility.  Patience.  Peace.  It also showed me that my worth is not found in anyone but myself.  I don't count because Mama says I do (or anyone else for that matter).  I count because I count.  I'm happy because I am -- happy.  Comfortable in my own skin - finally!  I know I'm here because, somehow, I fit into the grand design--which is far greater than a small island in the Caribbean, my Bronx street, or even my place in my family.  So, Mr. Thoreau, I say sometimes looking back is just the thing you need to propel you forward.

Crossroads

Classes ended.  Tutoring did too.  My summer began in early June so I quickly booked my flight back "home".  I decided on a one way ticket considering last summer I ended up pushing back my return flight to a later date.  Just made sense since I was going to be off for awhile, to take advantage of that opportunity to just be back in la ciudad.  Before I left, Mama offered words of jest that were founded in truth..."Make sure you come back." She nervously chuckled.  Later, as I prepared to head back to my apartment to finish packing, she confessed, without looking up from her crossword puzzle, "I miss you already."  Once again, as she hugged me, she alluded to the fact that I may not come back.  I shrugged and said, "Why is everyone saying that?"  My boss, my aunt, and now Mama.

They must have known something I didn't.  Once again, I'm nearing a crossroad.  The end of this year will mark two years since I've been in Puerto Rico...my initial plan, six months.  Since then, a seemingly non-existent relationship between grandmother and granddaughter has blossomed.  A bond has been formed and an understanding has been reached.  A language barrier has been narrowed--not eliminated completely--just narrowed.  Family history has been discussed, but insufficiently (at least for me).  Now, here in New York, a new and exciting opportunity is brewing.  Things are only simply brewing, nothing official, yet I'm still wrestling.  On one hand there's Mama and the rest of the family, my awesome apartment, the school, my (very few) new friends...a career, a chance to do better because I know better, old friends and familiar family, and more exciting yet nerve-wrecking uncertainty.  I'm no spring chicken, so how much longer can I really go on playing Dora the Explorer?  What if my decision to move forward is premature?  Why am I so ok with either scenario?  Maybe its because I know that God has a plan for me.  Maybe its because this experience has shown me that I can pack up and move anywhere and be ok.  Maybe its because its time for a new level...no matter where I stay.

One thing is for sure, I am heading back to Puerto Rico this summer.  Anything else, well, any(and every)thing else will be approached carefully, prayerfully and faithfully.  Stay tuned...

Ida

Today I tutored my Columbian student, Ida.  She's been a client of mine since, I don't know, probably since late last year.  This woman is brilliant.  She is working towards her doctorate in Chemistry and aspires to work in pharmaceuticals.  She came here just about seven years ago, leaving her entire family behind to find professional success in the industry.  She is currently 39 years old, and while she has been married, I gather that it was more of a friendly agreement that resulted in residency status for her.  He has since moved to Florida and while they speak daily, she scoffs at the idea of a romantic reunion.

Now, with her residency status, she is eligible to work anywhere she'd like within Puerto Rico and the United States.  This is huge for her and many like her.  You see, she had to work full time in order to put herself through undergrad...taking classes on a part time basis.  According to her, school in Columbia is very expensive, but eventually she did it.  Her mother passed away leaving behind Ida's mentally disabled sister and elderly father.  She has another sister who is married with three children and a brother, who is a "successful" businessman with one child.  This brother has no aspirations to settle down.  According to Ida, there really is no reason to, he supports himself and is "very handsome okay" (Ida enjoys adding "okay" to the end of her sentences...I see it as her version of "you know what I'm sayin'?").  By Ida's accounts, her sister is also a "typical Columbian woman" which for her means "fit and berry beautiful."  Ida is overweight and very tall.  As she speaks about her people's beauty, her body language speaks volumes about how she perceives herself.  Still, she doesn't allow that, nor her language barrier to hold her back.  She has joined Jenny Craig, gotten a personal trainer, and is taking English tutoring.  Why?  Because she believes that all of those things combined will make it easier for her to be hired.  Point blank.  She minces no words when it comes to that.

Ida feels an urgency to help her family financially and is doing all she can to make that happen.  I identify with Ida and quite frankly, she intrigues me.  When I was a young, aspiring radio personality, my motivation was to buy my parents their first home.  The difference?  Well, the difference is Ida will realize her dream, while my parents settled into their first home years ago...unfortunately, with no help from me.  Ida operates with a calculated, seemingly cold demeanor.  The whole time I was in radio, I operated off emotion, charm, and instinct.  Mostly emotion.  I was more worried about what family barbecue or birthday I was missing than about perfecting my craft and solidifying contacts.


Ida has made a choice.  No children, no love.  They get in the way.  For her, love is her work.  As we discuss this choice, she confesses, "I may regret my decisions later, but for now, I'm happy."  While I may not necessarily agree with the choices she's made, I admire that quality about her.  She's made her choice.  She's chosen her path and diligently walking it.  No matter how many laser hair removal appointments, Saturdays spent with her cooky gringa English tutor, or "tasteless salads", she's doing it.  I, am the queen of variety.  While others see black and white, I live in the gray.  One foot here, one foot there...just in case.  Where this came from is still unclear, but it is undeniable at this point.

Today, we began talking about one of her newest team members in the lab.  When describing him I could see that she was purposely choosing her words carefully--and not due to the language barrier.  Upon recognizing this hesitation, I urged her to speak her mind.  Again, she hesitated, stating "I don't want to offend or be offending."  I replied, "You don't want to be offensive.  Don't worry, speak your mind."  A calmness came over her as she said, "Well, he is very slow.  He works at a very slow pace."  Her face lit up as she used "pace", one of today's new vocabulary words for her.  "Do you mean he's a little lazy?" I pressed.  "Uh, yes.", she begrudgingly answered. "Okay, okay let me 'splain.  I showed him evryting he has to do but he no very hard working...many Puerto Ricans are like this."  And there it was.  What she really wanted to say.  "So you're saying this is common?" I continued to press.  "Yeeeesss!  Berry berry common.  For this reason my professor he 'elikes foreign estudents because they work berry berry hard."  Most would be offended by that "confession", I instead, couldn't help but feel saddened that others have recognized this seemingly negative truth.  I, however, am not just referring to Puerto Ricans.

My perspective is from a "mainlander", an "American" as Mama so eagerly points out: "Michie, you're not Puerto Rican, you're American"...but that's a whole other post for a whole other day.  Upon reflection, what I have viewed of my peers, myself, and now the next generation, is, in short,  disappointing.  Jill Scott has a song titled "My Petition" wherein she states "I want my children to be smarter than me."  That line stuck with me like jelly to peanut butter.  As soon as I heard it, I asked myself Am I smarter than my parents? After four years of college, several different occupations, trips from Japan to Mexico and everywhere in between, and at the time, 20 something years of "life experience", my answer was an automatic "not really".  I have experiences, but my parents have true knowledge, drive, and direction.  They took us as far as they could and their example, thankfully, has created pretty decent offspring.  But, are we raising the bar?  More importantly, is our example paving the way for the next generation?

So many of our young people are lost.  No drive, no direction, no real care.  But what do they have that Ida and so many like her didn't/don't?  Access.  They are born into the "gift" of being "American".  They speak a language that, if exercised correctly, will open a bevy of doors for them.  They also, much to their detriment, have this false sense of comfort and entitlement.  When I was 14 years old I dreamt of the day I could go apply for a job.  Financial freedom!  Maybe I could even buy my very first pair of Air Jordans! Especially since mom and dad had already made it very clear that they were "never going to pay that kinda money for sneakers baby girl".  By the time I was 16, I was dreaming of going away to college, if for nothing else, independence.  Fast forward to today, thanks to Mom and Dad's perceived middle class/upper middle class (whatever that means anymore) income, these kids (toddlers, tweens, and teens alike) have no real needs.  iPhones, Blackberries, iPods, laptops, name brand everything is at their disposal.  The most they might have to do is bring home decent (not excellent, just decent, because excellent is too stressful and impossible) grades.  Independence?  They've got that too.  See, the multitasking bug has bitten most modern day adults pretty badly.  So now, just about every parent in the nation can be found throwing around words like "too busy", "too tired", "so stressed" as a way to excuse the fact that they are not fulfilling item #1 on their job description...to serve as an example, an encourager, a guide, a supervisor.  Why would I ever want to leave home if I run the place?  Sure, you've busted your ass to have a great big house and you continue to bust your ass to pay for it...but at what cost?  While you're stressing over bills, your child is slipping from your grip and you can't even see it.  So, is the house really worth it?  How about the fancy car that you honestly can't afford?  The cell phones?  You get the idea...

Ida also has her family on her shoulders.  Within a few years, she plans to move to the United States with a six figure salary.  She will do it, that I'm sure of.  My only question is if she does eventually decide to have children, will they grow and achieve more than she has achieved, or will the "gift" of growing up American stunt their growth?

P.S. -

Correcting 11th grade physics exams has its perks.  Here are just a few of my favorite definitions learned in my current "life class":

Work - the product of force and the distance through which the force is applied.

Every body continues in its state of rest, or of uniform motion in a straight line, unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it. - Newton's first law of motion

Sleepless in Puerto Rico

I can't sleep.  It is past 1am on a Sunday night and for the first time in a long time I am just up!  I'm sure not one but two cups of black sugar laden coffee at 7pm have something to do with this.  Also, I'm hungry.  But, its way too late to even go near the fridge so instead I'll write and hope that sleep comes soon after.

Let's see, what's new.  Well, today was a great day.  I went to church and helped produce a fundraiser/musical presentation for an up and coming Christian artist.  The dude is ridiculously talented.  I wouldn't necessarily be dubbed a Christian music fan much less a Spanish Christian music fan, but I think that alone speaks to his talent.  This fully bilingual, compelling song-writing, amazing voice-having, piano playing, young man has been blessed and somehow, as I find myself in a varied deja vu, I'm thinking that I may be too (blessed that is). See, a few years ago I was the artist and event manager for an up and coming underground MC.  Together we pushed to bring his dream to life.  We got a tour going, shot music videos, hustled for interviews and embarked on a mission to get his name and music seen and heard...all on a shoestring budget.  During that time I felt alive.  More alive than I had felt in awhile.  In fact, the last time I felt that amazing, I was pushing a community initiative in Philadelphia called "Project Peace".  The gun violence was out of control in the city and the radio station I was working for at the time decided we had a social responsibility to address it.  We used our influence in the community to increase an awareness and foster a consciousness that this had to stop and it started with each and every one of us.  Good times.  I think I was probably far too immature to really realize just how lucky I was to be apart of it all, but I can see it a lot clearer now.  Either way, those were my "alive moments" - career wise.  And somehow, I find myself here again.  An opportunity to be apart of something that can raise the consciousness of a community while being immersed in one of my truer loves in this life - great music.  Its too coincidental to be coincidental that I was hand picked to be a part of this "brain trust".  A humble group of five, all bringing something different to the table for one common goal: to help move this talent to a stage where his message can be heard, his music can be felt, his purpose can be realized. I'm trying to use the hard lessons I had to learn from previous experiences and turn them into wisdom-filled stepping stones in this latest chapter.  It's exciting and scary all at the same time - but I'm up for the challenge!

Mmmm Mango!

Wow I went from hungry to stomach growling, mouth salivating hunger!  I need to get to bed so I can wake up with time to make a delicious morning smoothie...yeah man morning smoothies are the bomb!  Benefit # 7,654 of living on a tropical island - fresh fruits like mangos and papayas!  Wait let me rephrase that, fresh, ORGANIC and FREE fruits like mangos and papayas (thank you family for your fruit trees) at your disposal.  So tomorrow morning, it will be one part coconut milk, one part ice, one part papaya, one part mango, a slice of fresh ginger, a dab of blackstrap molasses, a lemon mint leaf and a blender.  This is doing nothing for my present state of hunger but at least I have something to dream about now!  I'll try to take pictures before I devour this Morning Mango/Papaya Magic tomorrow...wait its 2am.  I mean, later today.  Ok enough is enough.  Coffee it is time to leave me be already because it is waaaay past my bedtime!!!!

PS - My hair is growing!! Not so sure how long I'll let it go, but I'm having fun with it right now so let the experiment continue!! I am so delirious right now...and so gonna pay for it in the morning...

New Beginnings

My first coco tree being planted!

Change is hard.  There is no secret about that.  But, change is good, even when its bad.  Yeah, I know, I might be losing you a bit so, let me take it back to December 2011.  The holidays this past year were a bit tough for me.  The year before I was smack in the middle of a Gonzalez family love fest...food, photos, music, even matching shirts!  We all came together, knowing that the lil bro would soon be overseas and I would be heading back to la isla.  We took advantage and celebrated con gusto.  Fast forward to December 2011, I found myself staying put in Puerto Rico.  As exciting as that sentence was written is as exciting as that experience was.  I certainly cried, wondered what I was doing there, and wallowed in self pity as I indulged in some greasy-poor-excuse-for-Chinese-food take out.  That was the turning point for me.  December 2011 I decided if I was going to continue living in Puerto Rico, it was going to have to be in my own apartment.

Don't get me wrong, living with Mama has been a blast, but I am a 30 year old woman...and for the last year, I've been a guest in her house.  Therefore, no (other) guests, no visitors, no entertaining, 9pm bedtimes, etc.  To be fair, Mama never laid out these house rules, but it wasn't to hard to read between the lines.  She, thank God, is still able to be independent.  So, by January, I was gone.

Uncles hard at work...well, one at least

Cousin digging the new garden

Like I said, change is hard.  And with every choice to make a change comes a learning curve of some sort.  So, the last few months have not passed without their fair share of challenges.  Initially, I felt like I abandoned Mama.  Like I got her use to having me there and then, once things started getting tough I just left.  I still struggle with that thought at times...but way less often than I use to.  Then, I felt like I wasn't really needed around as much as I thought I was and if I were to decide to leave PR it wouldn't be much of an issue.  But now, I've seemed to have come to a happy medium.  I do serve a purpose here but I don't have to live with her to serve that purpose.  Yes, the day will come when she can no longer live alone.  When that day comes, I will deal accordingly.  Until then, I will have to do what I can to ensure that I am prepared to handle that responsibility while continuing to move forward in my life.  So, I still lunch with Mama just about everyday, I sleep over twice a week, and I usually take Saturdays for myself.

Get 'er done!

Coco tree no. 2!

The upside, I have had several visitors already and that feels great!  A wonderful taste of home!  My aunt handed down just about every piece of furniture I now have, Mama got me a TV, my uncle and cousin came all the way from New York and gave me a jump start on my new garden, my parents came and put that overall home feeling in, my homegirl Amanda hooked me up with veggie dumplings (fresh from my favorite Chinese spot in THE BRONX) and chopsticks, oh and who could forget my other cousin who came and left me with enough Medalla and Sangria to entertain for quite awhile!  Needless to say, it's been a busy few months.

Family entertaining!

The downside, outside of vacationing visitors, I really haven't had time to entertain.  I work everyday except for Sunday, (which is for church).  I'm also trying to maintain my apartment as well as keep track of Ms. Mama's crib, which is something I knew was going to happen...but I made this bed, so I'm lying in it.   I will admit, the first few months I was totally stressed out, but now, I just try to take each day as it comes and each "challenge" as it presents itself.  The bills have increased while the income hasn't...yet the amazing thing is that it always seems to work out.  Blessings.  I've learned to count them.

Lunch in the new pad!  Don't worry, Mama was happier than she looks ;)

Fleeting Memories

Do you ever have moments when you just stop and realize you miss someone?  Be it a loved one lost, a far-away friend, or an estranged former lover?  You just see something that reminds you of a moment with them, you eat something that you know they'd just love, or your mind wanders just far enough to come up with a scenario involving them (be it from the past or totally fictitious 'what if' scenarios).  So, what do we do with that?

Some of us smile to ourselves, and with a hint of sadness, we continue to move forward.  Some, may allow it to linger just enough to lead to an action.  A grave visit, a prayer, an overdue phone call, or even a journal entry.

Others, well others, may hold on a little too long.  The memories become weights.  Stresses binding us, pulling us in like waves only surfers can appreciate.  A fleeting memory, a familiar scent, a Facebook post, a song, can all become a trigger for regrets, incessant review, and destructive repetitions.

We can often trace this behavior back to childhood.  I, for instance, was the kid who drank warm chocolate milk from the bottle way too late into life.  I also battled my way into my parents bed waaaay past the "cute" stage.  Oh, and did I mention my babysitter anxiety?? Misha could often be found crying by the door for about a half hour AFTER her folks left the house.  I'm old enough to remember this, so once again, way past the "cute" stage.  Wait, I almost forgot about my first few years in school, no picnic there either...for my parents and teachers alike.  The point is, as a kid I just couldn't let go.

Eventually, my parents threw out the bottles, FORCED me out of their bed, and went out on dates, whether I liked it or not.  And well, I had to go to school, so either I went my whole life being dubbed "the cry baby" or I cut it out.

Thankfully, as time passed, I ventured out and I found my wings.  But, just because you've got wings, doesn't mean you can't still get lost.

Stopping, resting, and gaining your bearings are essential.  Just be sure that where you land doesn't become self-imposed quicksand.  Reflecting, while re-energizing.  Keep pushing.  Keep flying.  Lord knows I am.