This year’s 33rd annual Puerto Rican People’s Day Parade was dedicated to the greening of Humboldt Park. The theme “Verde Que Te Quiero Verde” drawn from the Spanish poet Federico Garcia Lorca, was intended on calling attention to the efforts of creating a sustainable green greater Humboldt Park community.
Gov. Pat Quinn and New York State Assemblyman José Rivera joined local leaders such as Ald. Roberto Maldonado, Angel “Tito” Medina, Casa Puertorriqueña, State Rep. Antonia “Toni” Berrios and State Rep. Luis Arroyo.
One of the most salient aspects of the parade itself was the paper mache likeness of Puerto Rican Political Prisoner Oscar López Rivera, which hovered over the float of the National Boricua Human Rights Network.

As a kid growing up in the deep campo of Vega Baja bordering Morovis, I read   in marvel Ricardo Alegría’s newspaper articles on the Tainos and other tidbits of Puerto Rican culture. Long before telephone lines ever got to the isolated campo, waiting for these articles become something to do, as I fantasized that one day I would become an anthropologist. This was way before I would interview Professor Ricardo Alegría at the Centro de Estudios Puertorriqueños for my doctoral thesis. That thesis would become Sponsored Identities: Cultural Politics in Puerto Rico (1997), a critical exposé of the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture and the official cultural policy Alegría helped found. A product of the times, my book was informed by a renewed criticism on the cultural essentialisms that limited an assessment of more popular expressions of Puerto Ricaness, including the Puerto Rican diaspora’s Nuyorican culture, which was quickly becoming my own.

As we mourn the loss of this titan of Puerto Rican anthropology, it is worth recalling the historical conditions of the ‘50s and ‘60s and early 1970s that made Alegría’s work so powerful and necessary and him such an influence on generations of scholars, students, artists and activists. See, way before it was fashionable to openly love Puerto Rican culture in Puerto Rico, and politically acceptable to waive flags and even to play folk instruments and music, the island was enveloped in an aggressive U.S. assimilationist policy intended to Americanize Puerto Ricans, rip them of their language and of any pride or knowledge of their history and culture.

To be openly proud of being Puerto Rican was to be an “independentista” or “nacionalista” and to be ostracized and run the risk of not getting government jobs and contracts. My interviews with cultural activists associated with the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture showed that many of them had been victims of political profiling simply on account of their cultural work. One showed me his carpeta (FBI file) that described his “subversive” activities: playing Puerto Rican folk music at church. That he played the “cuatro,” a four-string guitar now recognized as a beloved national instrument, was noted as evidence. This is the obscure political context to which Alegría’s work became such a powerful rejoinder.

Working with the first locally elected governor of Puerto Rico, Luis Muñoz Marin, Alegría helped found the Institute of Puerto Rican Culture (ICP) in 1956, which he led for over eighteen years. From there he helped launch a revival of all things Puerto Rican through festivals, activities, museums and cultural centers celebrating Puerto Rican culture, especially the island’s Jibaro (peasant) culture and the Taino.

It would take decades before the ICP would fully venture into the island’s African legacy, though it featured in the renewed ICP appreciation for Bomba y Plena music and the Festivities of Loiza Aldea. Since, scholars have rightfully noted that Alegría’s cultural nationalist project was also part of a larger cooptation of nationalism that neutralized its most radical components, placing it at the service of the colonial commonwealth government. Others, myself included, exposed the essentialist views of Puerto Rican culture that became “officialized” through the many preservation and cultural projects promoted, and the elitism bred when some aspects and representations of Puerto Rican culture are considered more ‘authentic’ than others. But these critiques stand on ground that was paved through hard won struggles that need to be also be appreciated, especially in their greatest achievement: the generalized appreciation and popularization of Puerto Rican culture, a culture that had long been shamed and purposefully persecuted on the island

Today, this key achievement deserves to be remembered and cherished along with the lessons from Alegría’s life-long mission. We especially benefit from remembering the legacy of Ricardo Alegría as Puerto Rico continues to be enveloped in a neoliberal Pro-Statehood administration that consistently refers to Puerto Ricans as “Americans,” dislodging the progress Puerto Ricans have made in overcoming our shamed colonial past. His memory should make us recall how hard we had to fight for the right to be recognized as Puerto Rican irrespective of background and political persuasion, and whether we’re born on the island or not. In his memory, I hope we continue to be defiantly Puerto Rican, lovingly, openly and proudly.

Arlene Dávila, Ph.D. is a Professor of Anthropo- logy and American Studies at New York University. She is a cultural anthropologist interested in urban and ethnic studies, the political economy of culture and media and consumption studies. Her work focuses on Puerto Ricans in the eastern U.S., and Latinos nationwide. She is especially interested the politics of culture and representation as they play out in a variety of institutional settings as varied as museums and contemporary culture industries. Professor Dávila teaches courses on comparative ethnic studies, race and nation in the Americas, Latino/a popular culture, global ethnography and consumption studies. She is author of Sponsored Identities: Cultural Politics in Puerto Rico (Temple University), Latino Spin: Public Image and the Whitewashing of Race (NYU Press), Latinos Inc: Marketing and the Making of a People (University of California Press), and Barrio Dreams: Puerto Ricans, Latinos and the Neoliberal City (University of California Press). Her new book, Culture Works: Space, Value and Mobility across the Neoliberal Americas, is forthcoming from NYU Press next spring. She can be reached at ad62@nyu.edu

In a celebratory atmosphere the Institute of Puerto Rican Arts & Culture opened its first major exhibit: “A year of Martorell in Chicago” with the master artist Antonio Martorell on June 11, 2011.
The celebration began with a reception honoring Antonio Martorell, hosted by Congressman Luis Gutiérrez and his wife Soraida. This was followed by a “Conversatorio” among three young Puerto Rican artists – Ramón Miranda (Puerto Rico), Miguel Luciano (New York) and Josue Pellot (Chicago) – with the master Antonio Martorell.  Brenda Torres served as the mistress  of ceremony.
The lively conversation served as the opening for the exhibit itself.
Martorell explained his intentions with this exhibit “Gestuario 1 and Gestuario 2 and the “Árbol Caído”. An exhibit which focuses on Puerto Rican and Caribbean gestures across generations with particular emphasis on the body and its changes and through it, a dialogue between the youth and what he frames as the “super adult”. Additionally “Árbol Caído” cripples of the issue of de-forestation and the human carbon footprint. The more than 200 people who gathered at IPRAC were deeply impressed with the beauty, simplicity and the message of Martorell’s exhibit.
The evening culminated with a gala in which several of the sponsors were recognized including Clayco, Harris Bank, Hispanic Housing, as well as Congressman Gutiérrez and the Master himself Antonio Martorell.
Martorell will be returning to Chicago on serveral occasions including Friday, September 2, when he will conduct a workshop with students and faculty of Aspira and offer a guided tour of his exhibit at IPRAC at 5pm.

Podrán cortar todas las flores, pero no podrán detener la primavera. Con esta frase del poeta chileno Pablo Neruda el congresista por Chicago, Luis V. Gutiérrez, describió las determinaciones del actual gobierno de Puerto Rico en contra de todo lo que representa puertorriqueñidad y diferencia e intercambio de ideas en una conferencia de prensa ofrecida en el Colegio de Abogados de Puerto Rico (CAPR) el pasado 23 de marzo.

“La primavera llega todos los años, así como los puertorriqueños dicen lo que piensan todos los días y nadie, ni aún el hombre poderoso que duerme en La Fortaleza, podrá hacer algo para detenerlos.”

La conferencia de prensa surge de las reacciones que sucitaron en el pueblo puertorriqueño, unos a favor y otros condenando, las denuncias que hizo ante el Congreso sobre las violaciones a los derechos civiles y humanos por parte del Gobierno de Puerto Rico a la población en general, los pasados 16 de febrero y 2 de marzo de 2011. Gutiérrez asegura que cuando acudió al hemiciclo lo hizo convencido de que la libertad y la democracia en Puerto Rico están amenazadas. Ante esto, el congresista demócrata dice que tenía que denunciar ésto, al ser la única persona en el Congreso de los Estados Unidos capaz de hacerlo.

Sus expresiones surgen debido a la ofensiva de la administración en contra de las instituciones que defiendan o representen la puertorriqueñidad, como es el caso de la Universidad de Puerto Rico y el Colegio de Abogados. El Colegio de Abogados ha sido más que una asociación profesional. Desde 1840, los abogados puertorriqueños han respondido al llamado de tener un fideicomiso público, lo que implica que éstos, además de su práctica privada, están al servicio de la sociedad puertorriqueña. Gutiérrez manifestó que el defender a los trabajadores y a los que no tienen poder a veces molesta a los poderosos, y que por esto el Senado de Puerto Rico (con mayoría del Partido Nuevo Progresista) y la administración de Fortuño lo censuraron. Añadió que a la gente que difiere de esta administración los tratan como a los estudiantes que protestan, los acusan de ser comunistas y agitadores.

Gutiérrez se mostró muy preocupado por el patrón de la actual administración de demonizar a los que difieren de sus propuestas en vez de discutir y comprometerse con el bien del país. “Este gobierno debería pensarlo dos veces antes de proferir sus palabras, y sobre cómo caracteriza a sus oponentes. Las palabras importan.”

Además, manifestó que las reacciones del partido en poder ante lo diferente amenazan al libre intercambio de ideas. A continuación algunas líneas del discurso de Luis Gutiérrez a los puertorriqueños y puertorriqueñas pronunciado en el CAPR:

El día que ustedes dejen de censurarme será el día que habré dejado de preocuparme por la libertad de palabra y por el futuro de Puerto Rico y ese día no llegará hasta  que tome mi último aliento.

Y, les tengo otro consejo: Ni su censura, ni su Fuerza de Choque, ni sus sesiones legislativas en el capitolio cerradas al público, ni acallar a ciertas voces en los medios noticiosos, ni remover los portones de la Universidad, nada de esto va a silenciar a sus oponentes.

Ni al Colegio de Abogados. Ni a los estudiantes. Ó a los reporteros, Ó a los ambientalistas. Ni a los líderes sindicales ó los miembros de los sindicatos. No van a silenciar a ningún puertorriqueño que desee decir lo que piensa.

Esta rabia, esta exigencia de que el partido dominante nunca sea retado, esta intolerancia a las ideas en competencia, este no es el Puerto Rico que yo conozco. Sencillamente, no reconozco a un Puerto Rico donde el Colegio de Abogados pueda ser visto como un enemigo de lo que es bueno, correcto y decente.

No reconozco a un Puerto Rico donde las vibrantes protestas estudiantiles se enfrenten con violencia armada y con palabras llenas de odio.

No reconozco a un Puerto Rico donde los ambientalistas y los líderes sindicales, las estaciones de radio y los periódicos son vistos como enemigos del estado.

No reconozco a un Puerto Rico donde los oficiales electos en posiciones de poder disparan palabras como “cobardes”, “sacarlos a patadas” “crápulas y garrapatas”, como si fueran personajes del “Show de Laura” y no como gente de estatura que deberían establecer el ejemplo.

Y, no reconozco a un Puerto Rico donde a un miembro del Congreso puede dar un discurso breve y que un gobierno de Puerto Rico le diga “siéntate y cállate”.

Ese no es mi Puerto Rico.  Ese no es el lugar de debate y libertad y justicia que yo amo y por el cual voy a luchar dondequiera, en todo momento y por cualquier razón.

Porque, déjenme decirles esto hoy: nadie va decirme que no soy lo suficientemente puertorriqueño para que me importe lo que le está ocurriendo a nuestro pueblo.

Soy lo suficientemente puertorriqueño para saber que el debate y la discusión son elementos fundamentales de quiénes somos aquí en Puerto Rico.

Soy lo suficientemente puertorriqueño para saber que los ambientalistas que desean proteger nuestras playas y nuestros bosques, lo verde de nuestra patria, lo que destruiría el gasoducto, no son agitadores, son patriotas.

Soy lo suficientemente puertorriqueño para saber que el Colegio de abogados no está aquí para ser perro faldero de los poderosos, está aquí para ser el salvavidas de los que no tienen poder.

Soy lo suficientemente puertorriqueño para saber que los portones de la Universidad no son barreras para controlar y disciplinar, son símbolos del aprendizaje y del conocimiento.

Hormigueros is a small town located in the western region of the great island of the archipelago, Puerto Rico. It has a population of 16,856 inhabitants of which 5,900 constitute the labor force. Its inhabitants are known by the demonym “hormiguereños”. Its patron saint, according to the Catholic tradition, is the Virgin of the Monserrate and her day is celebrated on the 8 of September.

This colorful town is known by the moniker “the town of the miracle,” due to the alleged appearance of the Virgin; “The cradle of the emancipatory one”, because it was there were Segundo Ruiz Belvis, defender of the independence of Puerto Rico in the days of Spain and fundamental figure in the abolition of slavery was born; and “the heart of the west”, by its location. It was founded on April 1, 1874 and is constituted by six districts: Benavante, Lavadero, Guanajibo, Jagüitas, Hormigueros [Town] and Hormigueros [District].

For the origin of the name two main versions are presented. The first one talks about the great amount of people who would meet to celebrate the festival in honor of the Virgin of the Monserrate on September 8th, “an ‘anthill’ or hormiguero of people.” The second, to the topographic formation of the land that conforms it, made up of many hills that seem like the small knolls that ants form to live. Another version talks about the origin of the name of the town of “oromico” the indigenous word, which means “Gold River.” At present, the town of Hormigueros is directed and administered by the Honorable Mayor Pedro J. Figueroa, great Puerto Rican and defender of culture and native values.

From here, from the mother country of all, the heart of the west, Hormigueros and their honorable mayor invite all the Boricuas and Latin American residents in Chicago and bordering areas as well as to all the members of the Puerto Rican and Latin American diasporas in the United States, so that they meet in the 18th Celebration of the Puerto Rican festival “Bandera a Bandera” in the city of Chicago, on September 5, 2011. That day, the town of Hormigueros will bring to you the “best of our town”.

Carlos Quíles,
La Voz del Paseo Boricua

It always baffled me when friends and colleagues of mine would see me outside of the fluid boundaries of Humboldt Park and comment, “Oh wow, you’re outside the two flags!” While such remarks are made in fairly good-humor, they are more telling about the deep-seated feelings about people who do community work. In other words, “those activists” are too narrow-minded or insular; they do not experience or understand the world outside a few blocks, which of course, is bad. All in all, a sentiment of “I could never do that kind of work, because I’ll end up like that” is felt. That kind of idea only damages the possibilities of maintaining and expanding work that seeks to improve the lives of community residents. And more importantly, those who get hurt the most in the process are the very residents themselves.

Just recently, I traveled outside the neighborhood to attend the Puerto Rican Studies Association Conference in Hartford, Connecticut. Although I listened to the work of the Puerto Rican intelligentsia, which for me proved that our communities can also produce great scholars and intellectuals, I also wanted to understand what connections could be drawn between academia and the people they study. This faraway New England city always peeked my interest due to its very large Puerto Rican community, which, in terms of proportion, is the second largest in the U.S. Plus, the mayor and much of the political establishment is led by Boricuas. Therefore a few friends and I ventured outside the walls of the swanky hotel where the conference was held to see what links could be made between Paseo Boricua and Park Street, the economic and cultural center for the Hartfordian Boricua.

As we walked down Park Street, there were visible signs of urban decay and poverty: the multiple young men, walking around with seemingly nothing to do and some “run-down” homes and buildings. Of course, this is what outsiders too often focus on, especially when visiting communities of color. What is most important and amazing, and perhaps sometimes even overlooked by community workers and academics, were the distinct signs of economic and cultural development. Block after block there were small business ventures that included everything from restaurants and cafes, to bookstores, record shops, and jewelers. As I entered these places of business, it was obvious that they were all owned by Puerto Rican and Latina/o longtime residents who also employed longtime local residents of color.

Social networks and civic engagement seemed to be rich, with residents conversing with each other as they walked down the street and in cafes, and some passing out information on electoral candidates. Furthermore, there were multiple buildings that have been reconstructed to look like structures in Viejo San Juan, with pastel-colored façades and iron-gate balconies. The neighborhood also included murals and community centers that depicted cultural and political themes of the island. Yes, social ills existed, but there was a community that was economically vibrant and culturally puertorriqueño – an important place in which to continue addressing the problems we face as a nation.

In Humboldt Park, we are also developing our community on our own terms, similar to that of Hartford, by holistically intersecting economics, politics, health, housing, and education within the framework of Puerto Rican identity. All this is done with the idea that in a racist and classist society, how can we own the places we live in, create a legitimate internal economy, and address the issues that affect us. Thus, to those that say that community workers are too “stuck” in Humboldt Park, I say that it takes a strong connection and sense of rootedness in your own community to truly appreciate and understand what others have built and to create a common agenda that will lift us all up as a people.

by Xavier “Xavi” Luis Burgos

Puerto Rico, how ironic is our love for you? We never cease to profess our sincere pride. We display it everywhere and in any way possible; from tattoos, t-shirts, to temperaments, we declare our profound orgullo.

Yet our love and pride – as deep as it goes – has limits, lines we won’t cross, fears we won’t face. Far too often, there is much we refuse to say, acts we won’t do, and beliefs we refuse to hold. Everyday, we simultaneously affirm our identity as Puerto Ricans, yet we often collectively dare not fight for Puerto Rico.

This contradiction is not only present on the island, but also in our barrios and communities throughout the United States. Here too, we have immense pride and love for our patria, but it’s no less ironic, no less tragic.

The question remains, how we together – as a community and people – move from one-dimensional pride to a stronger commitment to each other and our shared liberation.

Our annual festivals and celebrations offer a site to reflect on the nature of Puerto Rican pride, its importance and shortcomings. Every year, we gather (wherever there is more than one Puerto Rican) to celebrate, commemorate, and congratulate each other on our rich culture and customs. From the smallest towns in New England to the sprawling suburbs around Orlando to parts of Texas to the metropolises of New York, Chicago, and Philadelphia, we host annual parades and festivals.

Though some are bigger, better funded, or more established than others, each serves in its own way as expressions of our collective identity. Historically, we were forced to create these festivals and parades in order to combat the negative and racist characterizations of our community. As a result, we cannot underestimate them, although we can question how they sometimes limit Puerto Rican-ness to a few, sanitized expressions.

In some cases, these important events mark the only time we gather as a community. Drawn by music, food, and the rare chance to express ourselves freely and openly as Boricuas, we dust off our flags and thrust them out of our house and car windows, passionately, albeit predictably, forcing our local cities to recognize our existence.

Politicians come out, commercial businesses and media take notice and contrive ways to take advantage of our momentary unity. We gain some recognition, smiling with teeth shining, flag in hand, yet too often, during and beyond these moments of cultural bliss, we are silent on the matters of urgent concern to the Puerto Rican people.

This raises the question: Why does our profound pride not usually lead to action in the defense of those among us most suffering? What kind of pride does translate into love for our sisters and brothers?

Various facets of our history and current reality usually fall outside of these popular cultural events. In most cases, Puerto Rican identity is expressed in narrow terms, as if arroz con gandules, bistec encebollado y tostones, Salsa y reggeaton captured it all. Even further than our culture, what is the reality of Puerto Ricans and why is reflecting and acting on that complicated reality so often threatening to some in our community? One important exception to the tendency to exclude political and social issues from cultural events is the Puerto Rican People’s Parade held on Paseo Boricua, Chicago. This parade not only proclaims our identity but also raises important causes like gentrification and liberation via ¡Humboldt Park NO SE VENDE! and the campaign to free our Puerto Rican political prisoners.

Our realities as Puerto Ricans, of course, are incredibly diverse, and though there is an emerging professional and ‘middle-class’ sector, the majority of our people continue to face adversities to their very existence.

Our dropout rates (or push-out rates, to be more accurate) are among the highest, and have been for decades. Our unemployment rates, particularly in the inner city, are staggering, and that was before the economic downturn.  Our historic communities, like my city’s Humboldt Park and others, are being or have been dismantled and destroyed by a housing crisis long before the foreclosure epidemic.

Some of these realities – which are only a few and do not count necessarily as the most important – may in fact not resonate with your particular lived experience. But rest assured that the Boricua that passes you at the festival, that joins you in shouting out “¡Que Viva Puerto Rico!” may very well be confronting these challenges and others like violence (gang violence, domestic violence, and the violence of abusive law enforcement and imprisonment), as well as disastrous poverty. Perhaps they suffer from racial, gender, and sexual discrimination both within and outside our community.

Deep inequalities and divisions mark our people, both on the island and our glorious Diaspora. Especially in the current climate against Latin American peoples in the U.S., most recently reflected in Arizona Senate Bill 1070, we are facing difficult times.

We are a people – at least from my reading of history – that continue to experience the fracturing and oppressive reality of colonialism and its many manifestations. The current situation the majority of our people live reveals a profound denial of our human rights and a hesitation to aggressively demand them. Our responsibility continues to be to resist – in every conceivable way, from the smallest act of defiance to the acts remembered by our future historians. We cannot afford to shy away from politics, debate and collective action.

Pride is not enough. While we need to affirm our existence through cultural celebrations, and do so in recognition of our internal diversity, we must go beyond this form of pride. Our pride in our history, culture and identity should be sources of energy to work together in building new hopes, dreams and possibilities, but it should also move us beyond a one-dimensional pride to a deeper, richer love of our people, which is based on and grows through the struggle for our freedom and the freedom of all peoples.

by Michael Rodríguez-Muñiz

After nine years of struggle to save one of Chicago’s largest and oldest murals, the Puerto Rican community of Humboldt Park is closer to wining the right to the contentious adjacent lot. On Wednesday, September 27th, Raul Echevarria, Deputy Director of the Puerto Rican Cultural Center, received word that the Chicago City Council Committee on Real Estate approved a two-year lease of the lot. The lease will now go before the full City Council for a vote in October. “Once the lease is approved we can begin development of the lot into a garden with GreenCor, a group assigned by the City to develop the landscape elements to the lot”, said Echevarria.  If all goes as planed the garden could be completed by mid November, weather permitting. According to Echevarria, the Puerto Rican Cultural Center will hold title of the lease. “During the two year period of the lease, the City will begin a process of officially transferring title of the lot to the Puerto Rican Cultural Center”, Echevarria stated.

Back in 2001, after completing plans to restore the mural and develop the adjacent lot, a committee made up of various community organizations (including the Near Northwest Neighborhood Network, Architreasures, the Puerto Rican Cultural Center) and residents attempted to negotiate with the developer who owned the lot, to sell it to the committee. The developer had laid a foundation to build a condominium that would block sight of the mural.  By 2003, negotiations had failed and the deve
loper started construction of the condo. This sparked highly publicized protests by the community members that included the involvement of the then Alderman of the 26th Ward Billy Ocasio. Subsequently, the protesters stopped construction on three occasions. Finally, the City was able to gain control of the site in 2007. Yet restoration could not begin until the City was able to settle the question of stewardship of the property that would insure that the project would be completed and maintained.

“I remember being ten years old, driving with my father and we would always pass that mural. It was kind of creepy”, recalls John Vergar, “especially that guy (Muños Marin), who is stabbing Jesus (Albizu Campos), with what looked to me like a pool stick”.

Artist John Vergara (37), who is best known in the community for creating the Paseo Boricua/Humboldt Park (Coat Of Arms) mural on the corner of Campbell and Division, as well as, his now famous flag (with the Coat of Arms), was assigned to be the lead artist of the restoration. “I would have never thought that I would be involved in the restoration of this mural”, says Vergara.

John Pitman Weber, a veteran Chicago muralist and professor of art at Elmhurst College, was hired as a consultant for the project. He provided technical assistance to Vergara who had never restored a mural before. Along with various volunteers, the goal was to complete the restoration in one week. Restoration began on August 28th and by September 4th the mural was 85 % complete. “I didn’t think it was going to be possible to complete this in such a short time,” says Mario Galan. Artist Mario Galan had designed the mural in 1971 as a founding member of the Puerto Rican Arts Association. “I was surprised to see that he (Vergara) was dedicated. When someone is dedicated, you tend to put a little more into it and it turned out right,” says Mario.

Mario Galan was one of many volunteers who helped in the restoration of the mural. Although Mario is surprised that the mural has lasted this long, his memories are still vivid of when he first painted the mural. “I thought about the people that worked under me when I first did the mural, like Hector Rosario who was instrumental in getting me the information I needed.” Says Mario.

John Vergara was pleased to have the opportunity to work with one of the original ar
tists. “I had one of the original muralist, Mario Galan, assisting me which was the best part of the experience”, says Vergara. “Someone like me, from the “streets” to be given an opportunity to restore a historic mural. I feel truly honored.”

An entire generation of Humboldt Park residents has grown up seeing the mural as part of this neighborhood. Now with the restoration of the mural a new generation of residents can now enjoy it’s aesthetic with a new park and garden. Just in time for the 40th Anniversary of the mural next year.  “I see it as a victory for all of us”,
says Vergara.

by Eduardo Arocho

En el año 2003 visité por primera vez la comunidad puertorriqueña en el Paseo Boricua de la calle Division en Chicago. El motivo particular no lo recuerdo, creo que fue para la presentación de un trabajo poético musical con unos compañeros artistas de Puerto Rico.  La fecha exacta tampoco la recuerdo. Sin embargo, lo que recuerdo perfectamente es la impresión que me causó la organización y el trabajo social y cultural  que estaba llevando a cabo el Centro Cultural Juan Antonio Corretjer en la llamada ciudad de los vientos. De entrada me impactó el sentido patriótico con el que se trabajaba cada proyecto, incluyendo los trabajos de índole social y de salud. Quedé maravillado con el grupo de jóvenes que laboraban con tanto afán, hombro con hombro y con un gran orgullo para que los trabajos se llevaran a cabo. Todo eso y mucho más desde una sola plataforma, la de la identidad puertorriqueña. De regreso a la isla me traje en el espíritu ese sentido de trabajo comunitario y de lucha patriótica  de ese grupo de puertorriqueños y puertorriqueñas en Chicago, que para ser honesto, no he tenido la experiencia de verlo, en esa magnitud, en ninguna comunidad de la isla.

Ese impacto me trajo de vuelta, no se si ese mismo año o el próximo, el 2004, esta vez para participar de la Fiesta Boricua de Bandera a Bandera. Posteriormente he visitado en varias ocasiones esta comunidad con motivo de esa Fiesta Boricua. Inclusive, este pasado año escolar 2009 – 2010, vine para trabajar como maestro de Historia de Puerto Rico en la escuela superior Dr. Pedro Albizu Campos. Aún con los contratiempos y las dificultades con el idioma y el choque frontal con un invierno que me congelaba la sangre, la experiencia fue muy buena. Estar todo un año trabajando dentro de esta organización que es el Centro Cultural Puertorriqueño Juan Antonio Corretjer amplió mi primera impresión y me llevó a una profunda reflexión sobre la educación, el trabajo comunitario, el desarrollo social y económico y la lucha por la independencia de nuestra patria. Se abrieron, con esa experiencia, nuevas perspectivas de lucha, nuevas visiones y estrategias y me reafirmé en mi visión de la educación pública de nuestros jóvenes como parte fundamental de los procesos de lucha y liberación de nuestro pueblo.
Dicho ésto, paso al objetivo principal de este artículo  que es hacer un comentario sobre la 17ma Fiesta Boricua, celebrada el pasado 5 de septiembre en la que mi pueblo de Comerío tuvo una participación muy especial que aumentó en grado superlativo mi orgullo de ser comerieño.

En algún momento durante el año escolar, el Sr. José López, artífice e ideólogo de esta comunidad y quien no necesita presentación, me mencionó que este año quería inaugurar una sección dentro de la Fiesta Boricua que se llamaría “Lo mejor de nuestros pueblos” y que invitaría a partir de ese momento y cada año a un pueblo de la isla para  participar de la Fiesta Boricua y traer, precisamente, lo mejor de ese pueblo.

No ha sido pura casualidad que Comerío haya sido elegido para inaugurar esa nueva sección dentro de la fiesta. No obstante, aunque la historia es interesantísima, la falta de tiempo y espacio me impide, amigo lector, contarla en este artículo. Lo que me parece más importante es el hecho que, por las reacciones que he recibido de personas que llevan viniendo a esta actividad año tras año, esta edición número 17 de la Fiesta Boricua ha sido muy especial. Más de una persona me ha expresado que ha sido la mejor de todas.

Dentro del marco de la fiesta se celebraron varios eventos. Entre ellos, la presentación del libro Desde Lares del Lcdo. Carlos Gallizá, figura prominente dentro de la discusión política de la isla de Puerto Rico y el reconocimiento a él como luchador por la independencia. También, se reconoció la presencia del Sr. Florencio Merced, quien ha sido parte importante dentro de esa lucha desde sus años de estudiante en la Universidad de Puerto Rico, como líder estudiantil y presidente de la Federación de Universitarios Pro Independencia (FUPI). También se dio clausura a la exposición del artista puertorriqueño Elizam Escobar, obra que estuvo expuesta en IPRAC por varios meses y de la exposición de fotografías que han aparecido en el semanario Claridad a través de su historia como periódico de la lucha por la independencia de Puerto Rico.

El sábado 4, víspera de la Fiesta Boricua, se celebró la Misa Jíbara, que incorpora a su ceremonia religiosa elementos de la cultura puertorriqueña a través de la música típica y la trova del país, dirigida por el Reverendo Padre Raúl Berríos quien llegó con la delegación comerieña. Fue un acto muy hermoso, espiritual y profundo que creó en el espacio del patio interior de IPRAC una comunión de hermanos y un lazo de unión y solidaridad entre los líderes y feligreses de varias parroquias católicas de la ciudad de Chicago junto con las demás personas que allí nos encontrábamos.

Inmediatamente después de la misa se celebró la Noche Puertorriqueña, una gala espectacular que reunió a más de cuatrocientas personas en una noche de cultura y orgullo patrio en el patio exterior del Instituto Puertorriqueño de Arte y Cultura (IPRAC, por su sigla en inglés). En ese espacio fueron reconocidos y homenajeados Carmen H. Lonstein, abogada y miembro de uno de los bufetes más prestigiosos de Chicago y comerieña, y el  alcalde de nuestro pueblo de Comerío, soberanista y puertorriqueñista sin que le tiemble la mano, el Honorable José A. Santiago. El alcalde, por su parte, leyó una hermosa proclama declarando al Sr. José López hijo adoptivo de Comerío. También leyó una proclama similar reconociendo a Josefina Rodríguez (Fifo), además de reconocer a otras personas de la comunidad. El grupo de artistas que vino de Comerío deleitó al público con excelentes interpretaciones.

Ya dejé expuesto anteriormente las impresiones sobre la fiesta del domingo, la Fiesta de Bandera a Bandera. Permítame, amigo lector, hacer un poco de alarde. Mi pueblo de Comerío, mi delegación comerieña, hizo una presentación artística de primera. El Ballet Folklórico de Comerío, El Grupo Ecos de Borinquen con Miguel Santiago Díaz, el Grupo Yes, Papo Cocote y la increíble Tuna Trovera, dieron cátedra sobre lo que es cultura, puertorriqueñidad, solidaridad y patriotismo.

Me consta el sacrificio extraordinario que con lleva la celebración de estas fiestas boricuas en el Paseo Boricua de Chicago. El costo económico es impresionante; conseguir todo ese dinero requiere un esfuerzo monumental. El esfuerzo físico para la organización y la consecución de la fiesta es incalculable. Para la delegación comerieña el esfuerzo y el sacrificio  ronda por el mismo camino, trascendió, como para el Centro Cultural Juan Antonio Corretjer, todos los esfuerzos posibles. Estoy absolutamente convencido que para ambos el esfuerzo, el sacrificio y el sudor ha valido la pena.

Espero que la comunidad puertorriqueña en Chicago sepa valorar ese esfuerzo, que sepan aquilatar en su justa medida el trabajo y el sacrificio de los organizadores de la Fiesta Boricua. Me consta que mi gente de Comerío regresaron extremadamente complacidos y contentos, agradecidos y orgullosos por haber participado en esta Fiesta Boricua de Bandera a Bandera, que es una sola bandera, la puertorriqueña. Se sienten inmensamente orgullosos de haber participado y de ser el primer pueblo de nuestra nación puertorriqueña que trajo a nuestros hermanos y hermanas, compatriotas en Chicago, lo mejor de su pueblo.

En lo que a mi se refiere, me inspira este Centro Cultural Juan Antonio Corretjer de Chicago, me inspira mi gente de Comerío, me motiva su orgullo y dedicación y su expresión patriótica de corazón amigo y solidario y ambos, el Centro y mi pueblo, me hacen sentir un orgullo sin límites para decir a pecho abierto: Yo soy boricua.

(a Raymond (RJ), Matt, Juan,Juanita, Carlos, Zoraida, Marisol, Elías, Rubén, Brenda,Gustavo,Jonathan, Judy y Vidia, particularmente, por el afecto, pero más por la solidaridad y el apoyo y a todos los maestros y compañeros de PACHS)

Por Carlos quiles

Para ver mas retratos Click: 17ma Fiesta Boricua 2010

RESERVE YOUR TICKET BY CALLING (773) 486-8345 OR (773) 227-7794

RESERVE YOUR TICKET BY CALLING (773) 486-8345 OR (773) 227-7794

Luis \”Perico\” Ortíz – El Día Que Me Quieras (Live)