Some say that the University of Puerto Rico (UPR) was founded in 1903 in order to produce a local intelligentsia subservient to the demands of the United States, which only five years earlier ripped the island from Spain. In the 107 years since, the exact opposite has taken place.

In 1948, pro-independence students invited the president of the Puerto Rican Nationalist Party, Dr. Pedro Albizu Campos, as a guest speaker, who recently had been released after serving ten years in a U.S. prison. The then-chancellor of the UPR’s Río Piedras campus, Jaime Benítez, refused to allow Albizu Campos to enter, prompting student protests. In response, a group of student leaders who held Puerto Rican flags, which was illegal during the time, were expelled.

In 1970, a massive student struggle emerged in the midst of the Vietnam War, calling for the removal of the ROTC from the Río Piedras campus. During the conflict, a policeman killed a young student, Antonia Martínez Lagares, who subsequently became a symbol of the Puerto Rican student movement.

On April 21, 2010 a new student movement commenced in response to the austerity measures proposed by the UPR President, José Ramón de la Torre, and the Governor of Puerto Rico, Luis Fortuño, spawning an indefinite strike that is paralyzing the UPR system and brought international attention to the island.

Entering his second year in office, the right-wing and pro-statehood governor has proven to have little respect for Puerto Rico’s institutions. From firing nearly 20,000 government employees that provoked a massive one-day general strike to cutting the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture’s budget in half to getting rid of the membership requirement for lawyers to one of the island’s oldest institutions, the Puerto Rican Bar Association, Fortuño is reshaping the island, as many believe, in order to prepare it for statehood.

The UPR is no exception to Fortuño’s reign of terror. A new proposal, Certification 98, passed by the university’s Board of Trustees, eliminates fee exceptions for student athletes and university employees and their families. Furthermore, there is a proposed budget cut of up to $100 million. In response, a student-driven Negotiating Committee of 16 members were created and a list of demands were composed, which includes alternative measures to the massive budget cuts. These measures include the budget reduction of the burdensome Office of the President and a call for payment of multiple private and public entities that owe the university millions of dollars. The UPR president and the Río Piedras chancellor, Ana Guadalupe, refused to meet with the committee and washed their hands of the issue by transmitting their demands to the Board of Trustees, which are dragging their feet to review them.

Thus, on April 13 over 3,000 students from the Río Piedras campus assembled in an auditorium and the majority of those present voted in favor of a 48-hour strike. The UPR administration still refuses to meet with the students.

Now the UPR is experiencing an indefinite strike, which has expanded to include eight of the 11 campuses throughout the island.

Hundreds of students and staff even occupied, for a time, the Río Piedras campus until Riot Police, at the insistence of the Chancellor, forcefully removed them. Then she officially closed down the university’s operations, locked the main entrance, and ordered police to guard the campus. This prompted a student lawsuit and the Puerto Rican Supreme Court ordered the university to re-open its gates by May 3. Meanwhile, hundreds of students have congregated at the gates, holding theatrical performances, discussions, and even clean-ups and beautification projects of the surrounding area.

The response of support for the UPR strike has been major. The official Student Council of Río Piedras initially opposed the action but soon joined the Negotiating Committee. The Puerto Rican Association of University Professors and the Committee of Students of Private Universities have also joined the strike. Moreover, on April 27, a huge concert with thousands of students, called “¡Qué Vivan Los Estudiantes!” – “Long Live The Students!”, was held in front of the locked gates of the Río Piedras campus. Musical artists from the island and around the world, such as Calle 13, Ricky Martin, Rubén Blades, and Juanes, offered their support.

Nonetheless, the opposition has remained firm. Fortuño himself, a day before the concert, spoke directly to the strike in his yearly “State of the Commonwealth” address. In his incendiary speech, which received massive applause by the pro-statehood controlled Congress, he chastised the students for abusing their “privilege,” especially in the face of such a gracious government system. Reminiscent of a national speech by Mexican President Gustavo Díaz Ordaz when confronting massive student protests on the eve of the 1968 Olympics, Fortuño said that the people of Puerto Rico are of law and order and believe in democracy. At the conclusion of his address, he said “…we are here, ready and willing to offer the help… to protect the rights of all the students – both to the miniscule group that protest to the immense majority of those who want classes to continue.”

As mentioned earlier, there is a long trajectory of student struggle at the UPR, proving that one of the most important institutions in Puerto Rico is producing minds eager to reshape the challenge with a fair dialogue and open arms or continue a tradition that left the Plaza of Tlatelolco in México City stained with blood in the summer of ‘68.

by Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos

Photos by Alvin Cuoto

On the corner of Division and California stands La Estancia, distinguishing itself from neighboring buildings with its beautiful, unique architecture. As of April 23 it is home to an institution that will soon become another symbol of Paseo Boricua: The Greater Humboldt Park Community Diabetes Empowerment Center.

Over 200 people attended the grand opening of the Diabetes Center to celebrate the beginning of a new chapter in the “72 Block by Block” Diabetes Intervention Campaign, led by Project Director Jaime Delgado. This initiative is a partnership between the following organizations: Rush University Medical Center, Sinai Urban Health Institute, Norwegian American Hospital, the Puerto Rican Cultural Center, Greater Humboldt Park Community of Wellness and Pueblo Sin Fronteras.

The opening event was designed to inform the community of all the resources available in the Center, as well as presenting all the partners involved in the cause. “We will provide educational material and a space for support and physical activities for weight control,” said Delgado. A full-time dietician will also host cooking demonstrations for community residents to learn about the key role a healthy diet plays in fighting and preventing diabetes. Delgado also noted that the center will be open during regular business hours, 8:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. and there will be several programs in the evening and on Saturdays.

The idea to create the Diabetes Center has its origins within the “72 Block by Block” Diabetes Intervention Campaign. “We wanted to do more to help the community,” said Delgado. “We decided we needed a community-driven freestanding Empowerment Center.”

The decision to house it at La Estancia was purposefully planned by Delgado and others involved. “We wanted a high-profile place and the corner of Division and California is a very active area between the two flags. The center will be seen and identified with the community,” Delgado said. The dedication and commitment to create the Diabetes Center and secure its great location at La Estancia is a testament to the work of all the partners involved and will serve an important role in educating the community in the campaign against diabetes.

by Magdaleno Castañeda

On April 29, the United States House of Representatives approved the Puerto Rico Democracy Act of 2009 or Bill 2499, leading the push for a nonbinding referendum on Puerto Rico’s status with the U.S. Nothing is new and certainly, nothing is certain.

In 1998, the Young Bill passed through that branch of the U.S. legislature by one vote and stalled in the Senate. In response to the inaction of the U.S. government, under the pro-statehood regime of then-Governor Pedro Rosselló, an island-wide and nonbinding referendum was held. The option, “None of the Above” won. Twelve years later, another pro-statehood regime, now under auspices of Governor Luis Fortuño and his right-hand man, Resident Commissioner Pedro Pierluisi, who is the island’s only representative to the House, is pushing for another Congressional referendum. This time though, it passed the House by 273 votes, with 169 in opposition. Is this bill really providing democracy to Puerto Rico?

One problem: Puerto Rico has never, ever, in the entire 112-year history of the U.S. occupation of the island, has been allowed self-determination. Every organic act by the U.S. Congress has been without the full consultation of the Puerto Rico people.

The Foraker Act of 1900 removed the martial law inflicted on Puerto Ricans since 1898 and established a governor for the island – handpicked by the U.S. President, of course.

The Jones Act of 1917 imposed U.S. citizenship onto Puerto Ricans just in time to draft its men into World War I.

In the 1922, U.S Supreme Court case, Balzac v. Porto Rico (the U.S. changed “Puerto” to “Porto” to fit its linguistic needs after the 1898 invasion), the island legally was defined as “belong[ing] to, but…not a part of” the United States.” That legal standing of being an unincorporated territory has not changed, even with Public Law 600 signed by then-President Truman in 1951, allowing for the island to have a constitution. The only vote of that era was whether Boricuas wanted not to have a constitution or to have one. There was no option for a constitution as an independent or sovereign republic or any other status option for that matter.

By July 25, 1952 (the anniversary of the U.S. invasion) when Puerto Rico officially became the “Estado Libre Asociado” or “Freely Associated State,” and the Puerto Rican flag, which was illegal until then, became the official (and redesigned) symbol of this new “autonomous” territory, some believed that the island reached a new era. Though it was officially removed a year later from the list of colonial positions (at the request of the U.S government, not the Puerto Rican people) from the United Nation’s decolonization committee, the U.S. Congress still is the dominant force on the island. The Puerto Rican Constitution itself says that all Federal Laws supersede island laws. Thus, there is no “free association.” That is a bold face lie!

What is an even greater lie is the idea that Bill 2499 will provide democracy for Puerto Rico. The U.S. Congress has never granted a legally binding (meaning they are obligated to follow through) referendum for the Puerto Rican people to decide our future, despite having full constitutional authority on the island. Bill 2499 does not even provide a binding referendum for the island. It provides a two-step symbolic nonbinding vote. First, whether Puerto Ricans are content with the present status or not. If not, a second vote will be held with the options of Statehood, full Independence, Associated Republic (independence with some matters in the control of the U.S.), or, yet again, “Commonwealth.” To the lament of Fortuño, the “Commonwealth” option was tagged on last minute, which clearly contradicts the first vote, but is a clear message that the U.S. Congress is afraid that people will vote for statehood. Even the estadistas recognize that the U.S. is conducting a colonial enterprise on the island, benefiting through millions of dollars the Social Security benefits that Puerto Rican workers feed into the system, the billions of dollars spent on U.S. consumer products, and the multiple military installations.

Furthermore, what the pro-statehood movement is not telling the Boricua people is that the United States Congress, even if Puerto Ricans one day go insane and vote for statehood by an immense majority, does not have to grant it. It’s a nonbinding referendum! Moreover, even if the path to eventual statehood is made by the U.S. Congress, it could take nearly 100 years, as it did to states like Alaska and New México. Just like the 1922 Supreme Court case, Puerto Rico is like a T-shirt, to be taken off or buttoned up when convenient; it is just property that happens to have 4 million people. True democracy is allowing the Puerto Rican people to decide. Democracy is self-determination, not lies.

by Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos

On April 24 the ¡Humboldt Park NO SE VENDE! Campaign, alongside the Bickerdike Redevelopment Corporation (BRC) organizing department, mobilized nearly 70 community residents and activists to collect 451 supportive signatures for the not-for-profit housing corporation’s Zapata Apartments in Logan Square, located along the Armitage Avenue Corridor. The petition drive included a day of conversation about the project, a door-knocking workshop, and two and a half hours of door-to-door canvassing from North to Central Park Avenues and Armitage to Kimball Avenues.

The massive petition drive was organized around the theme of supporting affordable housing in our community. As one volunteer, Ramón Sánchez, 18, stated: “I do support affordable housing. There are some people, like minorities, who need it because of the [bad] economy.”

Although, the ¡Humboldt Park NO SE VENDE! Campaign focuses primarily in the Humboldt Park community through the organizing of residents to support the development of Paseo Boricua, the organization holds onto the idea that an attack on affordable housing anywhere is an attack on affordable housing everywhere. Nowhere is this truer than in the recent onslaught of misinformation surrounding Zapata Apartments promoted by self-interest groups and individuals such as the so-called “Armitage Neighbors Together” (ANT).

In 2003 community-led planning sessions by the Logan Square New Communities Program identified a shortage of affordable rental housing near under-enrolled elementary and middle-schools. BRC was asked by the Logan Square Neighborhood Association to be the developer of this much needed housing. As Executive Director of BRC Joy Aruguete eloquently stated, “All of our projects are at the behest of community residents.” For 42 years, the aforementioned housing organization has done just that, building about 1,000 rental units of affordable housing in communities such as West Town, Hermosa, Logan Square and in Humboldt Park, where it recently completed its massive three-building La Estancia project on Paseo Boricua.

Zapata Apartments has been in the process for nearly five years and just when it was gaining steam, ANT emerged with a long-awaited attack, even going as far as suing the city of Chicago for supporting the project. Throughout the years BRC has met with thousands of community residents in the area, even those who initially opposed the project. “We have no reason not to meet those who are anti-affordable housing,” said Aruguete. However, it is not dialogue that this opposition is seeking. Many of ANT’s members are real-estate developers angry at the prospect of a community developing on its own terms without the need for the ridiculous profits of condos that have displaced thousands of working Puerto Rican and Latina/o families from Logan Square and Humboldt Park.

In a lawsuit filed just moments after ANT officially applied for a non-profit status, the group claimed that the Zapata was an “unconstitutional re-zoning of certain property” and includes “invidious spot zoning,” or in other words, complete disregard of the surrounding nature of the community. In actuality, the project itself will fill lots that have been vacant for two decades with 1-3 bedroom apartments and even a play lot for community youth. Furthermore, the possible tax revenue generated from the project could reach up to $72,000 a year, when there was once none.

Also, the units will be priced 50 percent below of the median area income. In response, BRC addressed the major concerns specified in the lawsuit and is still continuing with the zoning process. The petition that they have put out also seeks to gain some Tax Increment Financing (TIF), a rare occurrence for affordable housing in Chicago, for a project in the 35th Ward.

by Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos

Magdaleno Castañeda

On April 3 National Boricua Human Rights Network (NBHRN) hosted “Jornada 360: A Commemoration of 360 Months of Incarceration and a Celebration of Resistance,” which brought people of all ages from both the community and beyond to recognize the activism and resistance of the Puerto Rican political prisoners and those who have worked towards their release. The event, which was held at Batey Urbano, showcased art work by the political prisoners and literature about their case which comprised an exhibition that covered every inch of the walls inside the Batey.

The event included reflections by former prisoners Alicia Rodríguez, Luis Rosa and Ricardo Jiménez, as well as family members of the prisoners and lawyers who have dedicated themselves to defending the release of the political prisoners, including Jan Susler. This celebration also served to continue raising awareness and support for Oscar López Rivera and Carlos Alberto Torres, who have spent 30 years in prison making them two of the longest held political prisoners in the world.

“Jornada 360” began with Michelle Morales, coordinator of NBHRN, welcoming the audience and introducing former political prisoner Alicia Rodríguez. “It’s good to be here and look at the faces of people that challenge the system,” said Rodríguez. She added, “This is a moment to reflect and give gratitude to all those years of struggle.” Rodríguez congratulated the community for “flourishing and expressing the spirit of Oscar and Alberto,” and noted that her ability to be physically present at the event was a testament to the tenacity of the campaign to free the prisoners. Before ending her reflection, Rodríguez addressed the youth in the audience. “When there is nobody to turn to, you must turn to yourself,” she said. “The ability to endure needs to be passed on to the next generation.” 

Luis Rosa was the second former prisoner onstage and in his reflection he acknowledged all the support received by family and friends. “Sometimes we get credit for a lot of things, but there are people who do not get credit and they carry the same burden and do time with us,” he said. Rosa also applauded the community for continuing the legacy of the political prisoners. “It pleases me to see young faces here. If anything guarantees that we will be here tomorrow, it’s you.”

Ricardo Jiménez was the last former political prisoner presented onstage after being “symbolically released,” as Michelle Morales stated, from a of a prison cell located in front of the Batey. Jiménez was the last of 15 individuals who spent 24 hours in the prison cell in solidarity with Carlos Alberto Torres and Oscar López Rivera. Jiménez thanked everyone for supporting the campaign, in particular the Puerto Rican Cultural Center Executive Director José López and Dr. Pedro Albizu Campos Puerto Rican High School Principal Matthew Rodríguez. Following Jiménez’s reflection the audience sang happy birthday to Jiménez, who was presented with three birthday cakes.

López was next onstage and he invoked the presence of his mother and brother Oscar López Rivera in awarding original silk screens from several of the prisoners to community leaders Irma Romero, Michelle Morales, Alejandro Molina and Jaime Delgado in gratitude for their commitment to the campaign to free the political prisoners and their dedication to the Humboldt Park community. The recipients were both surprised and thankful for receiving the beautiful artwork. Regarding the campaign López said, “These 30 years have been of continuous work without a day of rest.” “Jornada 360” was a well deserved celebration of these three decades of sacrifice and resistance, and also served as motivation to keep on working for the release of Oscar and Carlos Alberto because as López said, “To be fully human, is to be fully free.”

Jaleen Starling

After much anticipation, the “72 Block by Block” Diabetes Intervention Campaign will open the doors to its Diabetes Empowerment Center located at La Estancia (2753 W. Division) on Friday, April 23 with a community event from 2 to 4 p.m.

At the grand opening visitors will have the opportunity to experience the new space and get information on all the benefits and services that it will offer the community. The Empowerment Center will be a place where community members can learn about diabetes, a disease that affects many Humboldt Park residents, and also be informed on ways to prevent diabetes, like maintaining a healthy diet. The event will also offer diabetes screening tests.

Jaime Delgado, project director of “72 Block by Block” is excited to see the campaign around this serious health issue take a giant step forward with the opening of the Empowerment Center. “Diabetes is a serious problem in the Puerto Rican community,” said Delgado. “We need to take action and control to help prevent the high rise of the disease.”

For those that are interested in helping reach out to the Humboldt Park residents about the diabetes campaign there will be a “72 Block by Block” Kick-off event on Saturday, April 17 at La Estancia from 12 to 3 p.m. where volunteers will be needed to distribute flyers in the community.

Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos

Passing Western Avenue and entering through a humongous steel Puerto Rican flag, marking the entrance to Paseo Boricua and Humboldt Park, what one sees is totally dependent on who you are talking to.

Some see a ghetto. Others see a strong community, and there are those who listen to their iPods and stay clueless. What I guarantee most do not expect to find as they pass old men wearing well-pressed guayaberas is a window-front prison cell with volunteer prisoners.

In 2006, National Boricua Human Rights Network (NBHRN) thought of an idea to bring the issue of the Puerto Rican Political Prisoners to the forefront of the community’s and city’s consciousness.  The organization, which focuses on issues of human rights in the Puerto Rican community in the U.S. and on the island, decided on a new type of performance art that would engage residents, activists, and of course the federal government. At that time one of the two political prisoners, Oscar López Rivera, was completing 25 years in jail. So NBHRN built a mock cell at the window-front of the Café Teatro Batey Urbano Youth Space, exactly 6 feet by 9 feet, with prison bars, a bed, and a toilet. For 25 days straight a volunteer stayed imprisoned for 24 hours with only books, paper, and pen to pass the time. The event even reached the pages of the Chicago Tribune.

“The response was overwhelming,” said NBHRN National Coordinator Michelle Morales, 34. “From the media [to the] community and it was positive! We decided to revisit it this year for the 30 years of incarceration of [political prisoner] Carlos Alberto Torres.” Now, four years later, as one walks down Division Street, white-shirt prisoners can be viewed again, imprisoned behind glass.

On one of my visits to the cell, I met a young woman sitting solemnly on the bed who was very much proud of her contribution. When first hearing about the prison cell project, Julia Montañez, 17, thought, “I wish I could do that. I want to be part of this movement to free the political prisoners.” When asked what her family thinks about her doing this, she said, “They support this and visited me. They support the movement also. We’re a very politically aware family.”

Although all this began in Chicago, it is spreading throughout the country. “I’ve been involved [in NBHRN] for 8 years and this is the first time I see the campaign in an upswing. We’ve developed new chapters in Detroit, New York City, and New England,” said Morales. New York City is also conducting a similar prison cell project in the El Barrio/East Harlem community.

On April 3 the last volunteer prisoner was released from the mock cell followed by a commemorative event at Batey Urbano. That date was chosen because it marks the 30th anniversary of the capture of Alberto Torres alongside 10 other political prisoners. After decades of activism and a swelling movement, all were released by presidential clemency in 1999, except Oscar López Rivera and Haydee Beltrán (who was released last year). April 3 is also the birthday of the last volunteer prisoner, who at one time was a real political prisoner in federal prison.

Ricardo Jiménez, 53, was 23 years old when he was captured by the police in Evanston, Illinois in 1980. “Based on international law, colonialism is a crime against humanity. We were part of a national liberation struggle for Puerto Rico,” said Jiménez in a strong tone. “The 11 who were captured in 1980 were sentenced with a peculiar crime called “seditious conspiracy to overthrow the U.S. government.” Though they were not charged with any particular violent crime, the group received sentences ranging from 55-105 years. Jiménez was sentenced to 98 years.

Now Jiménez spends his time ensuring that his two imprisoned compañeros get released just as he was. “We must bring them home,” he says with determination. He recently traveled through the East Coast with the NBHRN sponsored play, “Crime Against Humanity,” visiting the multiple NBHRN chapters, speaking at community centers and universities. The play, which offers firsthand accounts of the suffering the political prisoners experienced while in incarcerated, is co-authored by former political prisoner, Luis Rosa, who was also at the April 3 event.

When asked what she would say to Oscar López Rivera and Carlos Alberto Torres if they were released, Julia Montañez paused and thought carefully for a moment, and with a smile uttered, “I’d say, ‘We did it!’”

Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos

“I’m going to put Black as my race,” says Andrew Torres, 16, a student of the Barrio, Arts, Culture, and Communications Academy after school program in Humboldt Park. “But, you look white and got red hair!” I exclaimed with a smile of interest. “Yeah, but don’t Puerto Ricans got Black in us?” he responded with a look of confusion. “Yes we do,” I said.

The U.S. Congress requires for the counting of every person in the United States every 10 years and the U.S. Census Bureau puts a lot of work in making this happen. After everyone is counted the results play a very large role in deciding on how much funding is allocated to schools, special projects, political representation, among other important things. In many ways, the relationship between the government (on all of its levels) and communities are determined by who and how many live in those areas. For Latinas/os, the census plays a unique role.

Now that “Hispanic” and “Latino” are official options in the census since 1970, they are still ethnic options, not race options. In other words, the U.S. government recognizes that there are Latinas/os in the U.S. (now more than 40 million of us and growing!) but we are not at the level of “white,” “Black,” or “American Indian” as a category.

First of all, the idea of race is different in Latin America. My student could easily pass for white, but his entire life is not that of a white person, but of a Puerto Rican growing up in Humboldt Park among people of color. He also recognizes that Puerto Ricans are a mixed people – Taíno Indian, European, and African. The U.S. Census Bureau’s neat categories do not fit the Puerto Rican or Latin American reality of a beautifully mixed people. That is why we are forced to choose, but is that choice really reflective of our history; of our experiences?

I consider myself a “Black” Puerto Rican – my African ancestry is more obvious in my skin-color and facial features more so than other Boricuas, but is my experience the same as an African-American? What about my uncle Junior? He is very light-skinned, but was called “spic” when he was in the South because they knew he was not white. Is he going to put “white” on the census?

It also must be noted that being Puerto Rican is different from being Mexican or Dominican or any other ethnic group from Latin America. The grouping of all these different nationalities into one category like “Latino” is limiting, but making them all separate races will not solve anything. “Latino” is empowering. There is much that makes us distinct, but there is so much that binds us. The great show of solidarity between the Puerto Rican and Mexican communities in the Immigration Movement proves that.

In the end, my people, put on the census that you are “Latino” and do it proudly. We all must be counted – only then could we tell this country that we are a people to be recognized and our issues must be taken into account, from immigration to gentrification. Also, make sure you put what Latina/o grouping you are from. In communities like Humboldt Park, which is experiencing displacement because of rising rents and property taxes we need to know how many Puerto Ricans are still here so we can continue to build what we have struggled so much to build. Those Paseo Boricua Flags are not going anywhere! “¡Boricua, Házte Contar!”

As for the “race” question, put what you like. I put “other/ mixed” because that is what I/we are. As a Mexican educator put it, we are la raza cósmica, the cosmic race.

Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos –

As I have previously addressed in this column, the issue of Puerto Rican identity – especially for those who are from the Diaspora, i.e “Diasporicans” (Boricuas in the U.S.) – is a complicated topic and even a painful one to discuss. Who defines who is and is not Puerto Rican? Why do Puerto Ricans, who are second and third generation, some of who cannot speak Spanish and many who have only seen the island in photographs, proudly display the flag on everything, from tattoos to car stickers? Are Puerto Ricans on the island really in a privilaged place, in terms of knowing who they are and where they stand as a people?

To research these questions, I turned to  none other than Facebook, the social networking website, to began a discussion. I began it with a statement that I do not believe (and it will explain itself as you read), but wrote to stir peoples’ minds and emotions. I hope the comments selected will enrich your opinions and thoughts on Puerto Rican identity. The following is an abridged (and grammatically correct) version of what transpired vis-à-vis Facebook:

Me: I’m more Puerto Rican than any Boricua born on the island because I have had to fight for my identity instead of having it handed to me…

Diasporican #1: AMEN!!!! How can I even begin to explain that to others??

Islander #1: Everyone has their own experiences… I don’t know if you are more Puerto Rican, but ultimately it is the way you feel…

Diasporican #2: It’s interesting you say that because I’ve had this discussion with my cousins on the island, and they just don’t get it.

Islander #2 (my aunt): And of course I disagree with you at least 50% of the way. You know your history, you fight for Puerto Rican rights in Chicago, you live the flavors. You might be more Boricua than some, but not most. There are a couple of people that discredit our island but most of us love our background, we do have a love-hate relationship with Puerto Rico, but you have to live here (not read about it or experience it during vacations) to understand that. That’s why no one from here will ever understand or accept when you say you’re more Puerto Rican than the ones living here, but if that’s how you feel, okay.

Islander #3: You think we have not fought for our identity Xavi? You don’t think as a Puerto Rican I struggle everyday to show these mofos we exist? You don’t think it hurts when I see maps in history books that don’t even have the island on it? You think our identity is handed to us just because we were born en la isla? La isla, it’s already a dilemma, my man. It’s even harder, you know why? Because I was born in a place like no other, with our own traditions, culture, climate, people, our own self; yet, we are not recognized. We are “La isla del Encanto” con el desencanto de no ser nada. Ni esto, ni lo otro. We, too, have to fight for our identity, much more than anybody. ¿Dónde nació Pedro Albizu Campos, Ramón Emeterio Betances, Juan Antonio Corretjer? No fue en New York, no fue en Chicago; yet, this are los proseres, the ultimate fighters of our independence, the people you emulate. ¿Dónde nació Lolita Lebron? Donde nació Filiberto? Who organized and said to La Marina, “Salte pal carajo de Vieques?” Nobody gave me my identity, nobody gave nobody anything. You could be from NY, CHI, Puerto Rico; if you identify yourself as a Puerto Rican, you are still looking for your identity and ESPECIALLY if you were born in Puerto Rico.

Me: I’m loving this discussion. I do have to say that identity is much more complicated than anything one thinks. I, myself, began this discussion with an essentialist view of identity… and I did it on PURPOSE. Do I believe Puerto Ricans on the island or in the Diaspora are more Puerto Rican than each other? NO! Because we are a nation of 8 million, not just 4 million, on the island or in the Diaspora. The point of initiating this discussion was to: 1) To prove to everyone, even my dear Titi, that it is painful and wrong to say a person is “more” than someone else, especially in terms of identity and 2) To see the different reactions between my friends, who were born or live on the island and those who are “Diasporicans.” The differences are clear. All those who were born or live on the island reacted negatively to what I had to say while my fellow “Diasporicans” cheered me on. Isn’t that ironic? LOL

Me: Oh, and by the way, even though I agree with you 100%, Lolita Lebron joined the Nationalist Party in New York City. The campaign for the freedom of the five Nationalists began in Chicago, the last grouping of Puerto Rican Political Prisoners were almost all born in Chicago or in New York, and the campaign for their freedom started in Chicago. Betances wrote his most eloquent writings in Paris and Hostos did so in the Dominican Republic and Chile, and Juan Antonio Corretjer wrote “Boricua en la luna” about Boricuas in Chicago, which is the greatest proof that without the Diaspora, Puerto Rico would be incomplete. Oh, and the Vieques movement would not have been successful if it wasn’t for the compañeros in the U.S.

Islander #2 (my aunt): Well, I think you’re full of it. Even if you were trying to make some kind of experiment, of course we were going to get offended. It’s like if I say I’m more American than any soldier who has served in Afghanistan or Iraq. But you’re right; there is a difference between Puerto Ricans who live in the U.S. than those who live here in Puerto Rico. We think it’s very funny when you people demand liberty, equality, march, and complain about our social/democratic issues when all you know is due to books and newspapers. When you all move here, work here, and contribute here, then we can actually talk more seriously.

Me: Ok, Titi, let’s take back that Puerto Rican flag you hold so dear and bring it back to New York where it was made. When you’re willing to do that, then I’ll say what you wrote makes sense. Also, who’s “you people?” Let’s not be essentialist here and regroup everyone into one experience and category. I guess my “experiment” didn’t really work, because you still feel you have the right to define who’s a “true” Puerto Rican…

Through observations, I believe that the two things that elicit the most discussion from Puerto Ricans and even divides the Puerto Rican family is the conversation on puertorriqueñidad and the status of Puerto Rico. In terms of identity, as you have read, there is no easy way to describe what constitutes a “true” Puerto Rican and what criterion exists to allow someone into the category of “Boricua de pura cepa.” But here is some food for thought: when one actively excludes people from a community, you are actively developing feelings of anger, sadness, and confusion. However, one also fans the fires of empowerment and affirmation. It is like when my grandmother came to the U.S. in 1967 and was “greeted” with racism. In turn, she held onto her Puerto Rican roots and worked to instill in her children and grandchildren the beauty of being Boricua, even though most were not born there. It pushes me to tears when some of my cousins call me “American” instead of what I truly am. How can you tell a little boy, with a smile on his face and a Puerto Rican flag, during a hot summer day during the parade that the symbol he carries does not represent him? And that is why the “Diasporicans” cheered me on in the discussion. They, too, know the pain of being ignored, the love they feel for a country that sometimes wants to forget that half of its citizens left the island, but those same citizens will have Puerto Rico in their hearts and memories, forever.

Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos –

Nostalgic for the sweet sounds of Boricuas singing and playing music outside your door during the Christmas season? Miss the smell of roasting lechón and the echoes of scratching güiros? For the past two years the ¡Humboldt Park NO SE VENDE! campaign has organized the Paseo Boricua Parranda Puertorriqueña, a special Puerto Rican tradition full of music and food, in order to promote Paseo Boricua as a safe, culturally relevant, and family-oriented space during the holiday season. ¡Humboldt Park NO SE VENDE! is an organization that works to connect housing resources to longtime community residents who are threatened by displacement (i.e. gentrification) and raise community consciousness on the issue.

In its third year, the Paseo Boricua Parranda took place on December 19, around the anniversary of the adoption of the Puerto Rican flag.  Over 100 participants visited nearly two dozen businesses down Division Street while traveling the parranda route, including an endearing visit to the Teresa Roldán Paseo Boricua Apartments for the elderly and the Institute for Puerto Rican Arts & Culture.

During the chilly and snowy evening, the event began at La Estancia Apartments with over 30 people enjoying hot chocolate, Puerto Rican pastries, and literature related to the parranda and its history in this community. The local bomba y plena group, Nuestro Tambó, serenaded the eager parranderos with mostly traditional Christmas plena songs, including Dame la mano paloma, but also added two new songs created by the NO SE VENDE campaign, with lyrics related to the struggle to preserve the Puerto Rican community in Humboldt Park.

As the singing and dancing parranderos visited each community business, receiving food and drink in gratitude for the mobile party, the group grew larger and defiant of the cold. What began as a relatively small group grew to over a 100 people who paid homage, with music, food, and waving Puerto Rican flags to dozens of community pioneers at Teresa Roldán Paseo Boricua Apartments, an affordable housing complex that remains a symbol of hope and resilience for the longtime residents of Humboldt Park. The event ended at the Institute for Puerto Rican Arts & Culture for the closing of its “EsCultura” exhibition of Puerto Rican sculpture.

The ¡Humboldt Park NO SE VENDE! campaign continues to plan events such as the parranda, which has potential to connect important resources to longtime community residents, support community businesses, preserve Puerto Rican traditions and experiences, and to promote Paseo Boricua as a historical center of Puerto Rican life in Chicago that is worth maintaining and building.