Mama's Eulogy

I want to first thank everyone present, on behalf of our family, for coming to this celebration of the life of our mother Antonia.  I know that there are some that were unable to come because of distance or other obligations, but have sent their love and sympathy.  We truly appreciate it.

I haven't written anything in almost 3 years.  Mostly because writing takes inspiration.  Today I decided to share with you some insight into the life of my Guardian Angel, our Queen Bee, my mother, Antonia Rivera Martinez.  Not only my life long inspiration but my reason for being.

Some of you know her as the stubborn, willful, determined old lady who laughed and ignored the doctors throughout the years, as her health slowly but surely began to fail.  And that is basically true.  She was stubborn.  She was willful.  She was determined.  But she was also so much more than that.

Her love of children perhaps was forged by her life experience.  Mom was born in Ciales, Puerto Rico, July 16, 1935. By the tender age of 7, she was already an orphan.  Losing her mother Tomasa Martinez to a tubal ligation operation.  But even before then, she was moved around from family member to family member.  Being an out of wedlock child, in the 1930's, brought a lot of negative stigma with it,  compound that with being an orphan, and mom felt the sting of a door closed in her face more than once.  Her father Pablo Rivera was a bachelor, a coffee bean laborer who it seemed was unable to care for her.  God rest his soul.  Finally, her father's sister, Hemenegilda, reluctantly took my mother in. Grandma Hemenegilda was strict, very religious and dominating.  God rest her soul. Not the greatest atmosphere for the free spirited rebellious girl.  Mom couldn't wait to leave home.  So at 15 she went out on her own, the way most girls of that time would, who didn't get married or left to college, by getting pregnant.

Mom found strength from being a mother.  So she had 11 children.  She loved babies.  The way they looked.  The way they smelled.  The way they totally depended on her.  I know her quick thinking and uncanny ability to react quickly saved more than one life in this room.  I know, I owe my life to her.  There were days when she would come home from spending hours in an emergency room with one sick child, to pick up another one of us, usually with asthma, and go right back to the hospital.  I thank God everyday for my sister Aida, because I know she was the main reason Mom was able to pull that off.  She would often say that her greatest and only possession where her children.  Mom also said that she would never leave her "pollitos" even if it meant we would all be under a bridge.  But together we would stay.  And together we did stay.  You could say, that was mama's fight to the end.  To keep us all together.

As we all moved out and had families of our own, I remember countless times when she was awaken in the middle of the night with some emergency.  And with us, there was always something.  She never said no.  It was as if she was designed to be ready for when her family needed her, she awaited the calls and was willing and able to run to any hospital, any family member, or any state to be of help in anyway she could.  Mama lived for her babies, even when her babies stopped being babies decades ago.  She never stopped asking for us.  She never stopped praying for us. She never stopped waiting for that call that told her she was needed.  Even when she couldn't balance on her own two feet, she thought, when the time came she could still run out that door to rescue us, her babies.

In preparing myself to write this, I started remembering little peculiarities about Mama that are uniquely hers.  Like, she redefined the word "something".  For the rest of her life and I just could not figure out why, she would pronounce it "somesing".   Also, if you had a baby picture you just couldn't figure out who it was, take it to Mom.  It didn't matter if the photo was recent or 50 years old, she knew who that baby was.  Oh, and if you were worried about a big debt that you just couldn't afford right now, she would come out with her famous "La ultima la paga el diablo!"  Or another saying, "Un clavo saca a otro".  When we came home with a broken heart.  You also had to be careful when you complimented Mom on something she was wearing, like pretty new shoes or a bracelet or a charm, because she had the tendency of trying to give it to you.  Ever heard the saying "He would give his shirt off his back".  That was mom, in a nut shell.  Mom believed in sharing what little she had and in helping others.  Whether you were family or not, if you ended up on her front door, suddenly, you had a plate of food and a bed to sleep in.  Oh, and the unsolicited, usually spot on advice on how to solve your problems were part of the package.  But don't get me wrong, if she needed to pull your ears because you messed up, she had no problems getting the job done.  Oh but her cooking was so worth the scolding.

Let's remember that Mom is now with our Lord, Jesus Christ.  She is young, she is beautiful, she is healthy.  Mom was well known for her beauty and her temper.  Just imagine her with her loved ones. With her parents and grandparents, with our adorable niece Orlaida, her beloved daughter Lillian and unforgettable son Nano.  I can just see Mom, grabbing random angels and making them sit and listen to her go on and on about her children.  Sometimes divulging embarrasing information along the way.  Her sense of boundaries were sometimes questionable.  But we all know, she meant well.

I am not saying anything most of you don't already know.  Perhaps some of you will have better stories of Mom or times you shared together.  And that is wonderful.  That is what we are here for to celebrate the time the Lord graced us to spend with our Guardian Angel, our Queen Bee.   A woman also known as Mom, Grandma, Great Grandma, Daughter, Sister, Auntie, Cousin, Counselor, Advocate, Good Neighbor-Friend and Father.  These are all the titles that she earned throughout her life.  And the only titles that really meant "somesing" to her.

Thank you.

A Sad State of Affairs

In my examination of the Puerto Rican state of affairs regarding it's relationship to the United States, I purposely left out my assessment of the situation. The reason I did this was to first immerse my readers into the history and culture of Puerto Rico.  Further explaining the complicated relationship that exists between our tiny island and our great nation.

I must first start by explaining that I am an island born Puerto Rican, of Puerto Rican parents, raised and living in the Continental United States.  Most people would not understand my need in stating this.  Let me explain.

First of all, not all people who claim to be Puerto Ricans are truly Puerto Rican. Being Puerto Rican to some of these lovingly adopted people means having been born off the island but having Puerto Rican parents or at least one Puerto Rican parent.  To others, they migrated to Puerto Rico at an early age, and were raised in Puerto Rico all their lives.  Yet others, are of a totally different nationality, in another country, but were raised by a Puerto Rican.  They all have been influenced by our culture, beliefs, customs, food, music and the love and pride we feel in being Puerto Rican.  And we, Puerto Ricans, lovingly embrace them into the family.

Now, what how does my current status as a "Continental" Puerto Rican have anything to do with anything?  Indulge me.

Having been raised in New York City since the age of 5, mostly in Spanish Harlem, I never lost my Puerto Rican roots.  Why?  Because there are more Puerto Ricans in New York than there could ever fit in Puerto Rico!  And because of that, I was exposed to all the influences of my culture.  I was also lucky enough to travel most Christmas' back to the island with my parents.  Being the only daughter of my father guaranteed that I would not be left behind.

Traveling back to the island and experiencing first hand the sounds, landscapes and family left behind, gave me a perspective that my compatriots might not have.  I never lost touch.  I never forgot.  I never moved on.   I always hoped to make a difference for my homeland.  I feel the time has come.

It's a funny thing being a Puerto Rican who does not reside in Puerto Rico.  Here, in the U.S., other than in South Florida, or the many vastly spread Hispanic communities, the rest of the country is mostly ignorant of the fact that Puerto Rico is an American held Colony.  That Puerto Ricans are American Citizens.  Or that, if I was to resident in Puerto Rico, in spite of being an American Citizen, I would not be able to vote for President.

To Puerto Ricans living on the island, I am not seen as a native.  I am seen with suspicion and distrust.  "What does this American want?", is what I see in their eyes and mannerisms.  This is what I encountered when requesting information on my family history from my own family members.

And the question of Statehood or Independence?  You best be careful where and when you bring up the subject.  First thing that is thrown in your face is, "You don't live here."   But guess what.  I am very much vested in what status my beloved island happens to be.  I want the option of perhaps one day living on the island and not losing my voting rights.  Or becoming a second class citizen, because the U.S. Constitution does not fully protect me as an island resident.  Or to have my future Social Security Retirement check diminished by 85% simply because I changed my zip code to one in Puerto Rico.  Or of losing my American Citizenship, because my fellow islanders decide to become Independent.

For all of the above reasons and many more, I advocate that Puerto Ricans everywhere, and believe me, we are everywhere, have the right to decide what happens in Puerto Rico.  I happen to believe that it is in Puerto Rico's best interest to become an American State.  Our 51st State.

Most islanders have been convinced that the status of "Commonwealth", which is Puerto Rico's current status, is the lesser of two evils.  That with this status, they are exempt from paying taxes and having English imposed as the only language spoken; while still benefiting from the federal programs,  manufactured goods and monetary funds that emanate from the Mainland.

In actuality, island resident Puerto Ricans pay more taxes than they are willing to admit.  Yes, its true, they do not pay "property taxes", but they do overpay taxes on everything they consume.  Everything is imported to the island.  Nothing there is produced locally.  Therefore, every single item is taxed twice.  One of these taxes is the tariff paid to ship the item from the Mainland to Puerto Rico.  The other, is the sales tax placed on the item once it is sold to the consumer.

In Puerto Rico, English is taught, alongside Spanish, from elementary school until high school.  But if anyone aspires to have a higher education, then you best pay attention to your English lessons.  All educational institutions of higher learning, i.e., Universities, Medical Schools, are taught in English only.

Most Puerto Ricans don't realize that 4 billion dollars more would be allocated to the island as a State of the Union than it is today as a commonwealth.

The only thing this "Commonwealth" status has accomplished is to deny us the right to govern ourselves.  Puerto Rico, as a commonwealth, does not have any representation in Congress, the Senate or the House of Representatives.  This Puerto Rican commonwealth is governed by laws, that they themselves are not allowed to participate in creating.  As a commonwealth, it is not allowed to vote for President. 

Since, 1917, Puerto Ricans are subject to a mandatory draft.  Think of the irony of being sent to war by a President that you did not elect.

This post is meant as an attachment to my three previous writings on Puerto Rico.  It is my sentiment and reflection on the sad state of affairs that has come out the politicking and lack of value placed on one of the last Colonies which exists in modern times.  I invite an open discussion on this subject.  Let's close this border once and for all.  We are tired of being treated like the "red headed step child."   Make me proud to be an American no matter where I am.

 *For a great blog on Puerto Rico's Best Athletes visit Scott Morganroth's Sports Blog:   www.motorcitymadmouthinsights.blogspot.com or www.scottsports33@aol.com.

Puerto Rico - An American State 113 Years in The Making; Part I

Throughout my lifetime, I have had to explain to my American countrymen exactly what is the correlation between Puerto Rico and the United States.  It boggles my mind how little the average American knows regarding the politics that have given puertoricans their current U.S. Citizen status. Some aren't even aware that puertorricans are in fact U.S. Citizens.  Let this blog serve as Legal Notice to all my fellow Americans, we are indeed, real bona fide Americans; with some stipulations, of course.

As with all my blogs, a brief history into the subject matter is necessary and my pleasure to oblige.

The island of Puerto Rico is merely 110 miles long by 40 miles wide.  Among its territory is included the smaller surrounding islands of Vieques, Culebra and Mona.  It is the smallest of the Greater Antilles Islands, in the Caribbean Sea; an unincorporated territory of the United States, located east of the Dominican Republic and west of the Virgin Islands.

Discovered by Christopher Columbus, November 19, 1493, on his second voyage to the Americas; it is so small in land mass that he just simply sailed right by it the first time.  Puerto Rico was originally named by Columbus, Saint John the Baptist (San Juan el Bautista).  As time went on, due to popular common usage, the name of its principal port and the island were reversed.  Sailors and merchants referred to the entire island as Puerto Rico (Rich Port) and the northeastern port where they made their fortunes as San Juan.

The indigenous people that inhabited the island at the time of discovery, were Arawak Indians known as Tainos.  Mostly hunters and fishermen, whom by archeological findings, are theorizied to have traveled from the region of the Orinoco river, on the northern South American area of what is today known as Venezuela.  They called the island "Borike", meaning "Land of the Valiant Lord", in Spanish, Borike became "Borinquen", a phrase still commonly used by and for modern day puertoricans.  "Boricua" or "Borinqueno" is used to describe a person born on the island or of puertorican heritage.  The island is also popularly known in Spanish as "La Isla del Encanto" which means "The Island of Enchantment" in English.  It is the main reason why I proudly proclaim that we, the United States, have a little piece of paradise in our own backyard, Puerto Rico.

As is now so commonly known with the history of the colonization of the New World, these indigenous people were nearly driven to extinction by the diseases (small pox), forced labor (slavery) and many years of ill treatment inflicted by their Spanish conquerors.  Within 50 years the Taino population were reduced to such small numbers that the importation of Sub-Saharan African slaves was introduced to provide the new manual work force for the Spanish colonists and merchants.  African slavery was primarily restricted to coastal ports and cities, while the interior of the island continued to be essentially unexplored and undeveloped. Wikipedia


Spain quickly realized this newly discovered island's strategic location in its quest for colonial expansion.  Various forts and walls, such as La Fortaleza, El Castillo San Felipe del Morro and El Castillo de San Cristobal, were built to protect the port of San Juan from numerous European invasion attempts.  The port of San Juan became an important port of call for ships of all European nations for the purposes of replenishing water, food and other necessities, and making repairs for the continuation of their journeys to North, Central and South America.  Puerto Rico was under Spanish rule, influence and military protection for over 500 years.

Just before the Spanish-American War broke out between the two super powers, Puerto Rico was going through some political growing pains with the Motherland.  In 1809, Spain attempted to secure its stronghold on its New World colonies, by allowing representatives of its Spanish colonies to participate in parliamentary proceedings in the Mainland Iberia.  The first Spanish parliamentary representative from the island of Puerto Rico was Ramon Power y Giralt.  Several independent movements organized themselves during this time.  Poverty and political estrangement with Spain led to a small but significant uprising in 1868 known as "Grito de Lares."  Leaders of this independence movement included Ramon Emeterio Betances, considered the "father" of the Puerto Rican independence movement, and other political figures such as Segundo Ruiz Belvis. Wikipedia

To elaborate on the above Wikipedia notation, on September, 28, 1868, Manuel Rojas, Commander in Chief, of the Puerto Rican Liberation Army, led 800 men and women in a revolt against Spanish rule and took the town of Lares, in what is known as the "Grito de Lares" (The Cry of Lares).

In 1897, Luis Munoz Rivera, an autonomous political thinker and father of the future first democratically elected Governor of Puerto Rico, Luis Munoz Marin; along with others, persuaded the liberal Spanish government to agree to Charters of Autonomy for Cuba and Puerto Rico.  In the month of February, in 1898, Puerto Rico's first, but short-lived, autonomous government was organized as an "overseas province" of Spain.  In other words, Puerto Rico became an autonomous, if not, a totally independent country on July 17, 1898.

On July 25, 1898, during the Spanish-American War, Puerto Rico was invaded by the United States with a landing at Guanica.  As an outcome of the war, Spain ceded Puerto Rico, along with the Philippines and Guam to the U.S. under the Treaty of Paris.  Spain relinquished sovereignty over Cuba, but did not cede it to the U.S.  Wikipedia  And thus, ended our romance with the idea of Independence; for the moment.  This chapter is still in deliberations with Congress and the puertorican population on the island.

In noticing the extensive background of the puertorican experience, I have decided that this is a good place to divide this blog into at least two parts.  I will end Part I here.  And continue with the modern day issues and my own commentaries on the subject in Part II; to be concluded, hopefully within the next few days. 

Shorties Unite!

I was born in the beautiful Caribbean island of Puerto Rico, in the mid 1960's, but was raised in New York City, in the 1970's. 

Somehow I have managed to convinced my mind that both places are of equal importance in my heart.  And they are.  I am a loud and proud Newyorkrican.  As I was growing up, it was the Hispanic barrios in Manhattan, Brooklyn, Bronx and even Long Branch, NJ, that I called home.   Funny thing is, I never noticed a height difference in the people surrounding me; we were all basically of similar physique. 

Imagine my horror, when my family relocated to Florida and I first realized that I was a shorty! 

Hell, here, among the short, I am considered short!

Living in New York was tough.  A vivid memory, which will always stay with me is that, every new kid in school had to prove he was not a punk.  Girls were not immune to this "unwritten" requirement.  Let's just say, my family moved around often and I was the new kid in school a lot.  Lucky or unlucky for me, depending on whether you look at life as a glass half empty or half full, I had seven brothers at home and got plenty of practice in the art of boxing(at least that's what they called it).  I did fairly well surviving these school yard fights.  I could remember losing only one fight, and this girl was tall and lanky. 

I should have taken my first hint there, don't you think?

Attending High School in Florida was not that much different than in New York.  I guess kids are mean everywhere and indiscriminately so.  The bullies tended to underestimate me because of my height and paid the consequences.  One day, I learned about Napoleon Bonaparte.  An insignificant non-commissioned French soldier who rose through the ranks to conquer most of Europe and become Emperor.   Many people surmised he  compensated for his lack of height by seeking power, war and conquest.  Thus, the term Napoleon complex was coined, geared towards vertically challenged individuals who exhibit overly aggressive and cunning characteristics.

In my mind, this guy, Napoleon, was the embodiment of what I perceived as being wrong with the world.  At least, my world.  Short people tend to get picked on.  Short people have no choice but to become aggressive to survive.  To out smart the evil that naturally comes with the accumulation of height.  Heck, its the reason Chihuahuas have developed their instinctively aggressive defense mechanism, they too, are shorties.  Everything makes sense.  Everything is right in the world.

There is only one problem, actually several.  In researching this topic; mind you, I am a conscientious writer, I don't want to mislead anyone nor God forbid, miseducate the masses; I came across information which disputes the validity of this line of thought.   It seems that the well accepted Napoleon complex is nothing more than the combination of confirmation bias alongside bigotry, used to describe an alleged type of inferiority complex which is said to affect some people, especially men, who are short in stature.  The term is also used more generally to describe people who are driven by a perceived handicap or overcompensate in other aspects of their lives. Wikipedia


To add insult to injury, Napoleon, was not short.  He was 5'6, well within the normal height for men in that era and in that part of the world.

The world I thought I knew is shattered.  I can no longer act out, finding comfort in the blanket that the Napoleon complex afforded me once and must cease to accuse the giants around me as instigator conspirators to the blight of my temper. 

I must accept, that if I want height, I must bare the pain of extremely high heeled shoes.  I must accept, that if something falls on the floor, the shortest person is always expected to bend over and pick it up, it's only logical, we are closest to the ground!  I must accept that if I want to reach something in the kitchen cabinet, a step latter is my best friend.

This was suppose to be a battle cry to all shorties around the world to stand up and fight for their rights!!!  Damn you Napoleon!!!  :)