¡Despierta Boricua!

¡Hola! Everybody…
Today is the Puerto Rican Day Parade. Contrary to what you may (or may not) have heard, the parade isn’t a rape fest, or an organized crime spree. The following was posted by a Boricua* for the NY Post several years ago and it features the many highlights of what is still one of the largest (if not the largest) outdoor event in the U.S.

A little personal side note: one of my sister’s was a PR Parade Beauty queen (in the mid 70s).

* * *

“Grito de Lares” by Augusto Marin

El Grito de Lares: Several hundred women and men revolted against Spain for Puerto Rican independence on Sept. 23, 1868. The main leader was Ramón Betances. The insurrection failed because the upper class was apathetic, the rebels lacked adequate training and equipment, and because the Spanish authorities knew of the rebels' plans in advance.

-=[ Puerto Rican Parade ]=-

50 Greatest Moments

By Eneida del Valle

Last Updated: 5:00 AM, June 6, 2007 / Posted: 5:00 AM, June 6, 2007

From beauty queens who marched in heels to politicians who sported fake smiles to win some votes, to the controversial 'Seinfeld' episode, the Puerto Rican Parade has made Big Apple history for over half a century.

March 1958: Leaders from the Puerto Rican community decide to break away from the Hispanic Day Parade and create the Puerto Rican Day Parade. According to an editorial in "El Diario," the main objective of the Hispanic Day Parade, which was mainly run by Puerto Ricans, is to unite all peoples of the Spanish language. The Puerto Rican Day Parade is founded by Victor Lopez, the march’s first president; coordinator Jose “Chuito” Caballero; Peter Ortiz; Luisa Quintero; Luis Amando Feliciano; Vicente Hernández; Angel M. Arroyo; Atanacio Rivera Feliciano; and Amalio Maisanave Ríos.

April 1958: The first Puerto Rican Day parade is held on Fifth Avenue on April 14 as 5,000 Boricuas march in front of a crowd of 125,000. It’s a huge success, receiving a hail of positive reviews from the media. The Herald Tribune says, “There are longer and larger parades but none encompass the spirit of the Puerto Rican Day Parade,” and the New York Times says, “The Puerto Ricans have taken over Fifth Avenue.” Then-New York Mayor Robert F. Wagner is quoted in the New York Times, as saying “The Puerto Ricans have demonstrated their civic and cultural contributions to the City of New York.” But what really got tongues wagging was when Gloria Burgos, the queen of the parade, and her court, walked all 34 blocks in high heels after the float she was supposed to appear on never showed up. Attendees included then-Governor of Puerto Rico Don Luis Muñoz Marin and Oscar González Suarez, Esq. as the Grand Marshall.

April 12, 1959: The second parade goes off -- but not without a hitch. Community leaders and the media form an alliance called Un Frente Unido por un Solo Desfile (A United Front for One Parade) in an effort to unite the Hispanic Day Parade and the Puerto Rican Day Parade, urging organizers for unity and harmony. But to no avail. The president of the parade, Mr. Victor Lopez, is quoted in El Diario de Nueva York as saying, “The parade will definitely not unite with any other Hispanic parade in New York City.” Despite the 40-degree weather, it’s attended by 160,000 people and more than 10,000 people make their way up Fifth Avenue. Then-New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller is in attendance.

April 1960 & 1961: Parade continues its success up Fifth Avenue with more than 165,000 in attendance both years.

June 1962: It’s official! The parade is held on June 10, the second Sunday in June and that date has not changed since. In order to have the legislators from the main island attend the parade – they’re all tied up until May 30 -- organizers decide to change the date to accommodate them and the route is extended from 44th-86th streets. Good thing they waited! The ‘62 parade is billed as the best, brightest, biggest and most expensive ever, costing $100,000 with 50 floats and 40 bands -- and half a million Boricuas in attendance. Yet it was former Mayor of San Juan Felisa Rincón who stole the show. Instead of staying with the rest of the politicians at the stage on 64th Street, she made the decision to ride in a convertible, causing an outpouring of love and support from the crowd.

1965: Described as the best organized parade yet, thousands of people start lining along the route to get a glimpse of what the media called “The most genuine representation of Boricuas in the United States.”

1967: For the first time in its history, the Puerto Rican Day Parade is broadcast on television the same evening, June 4 from 9 p.m.-10:30 p.m. on channel 47 Telemundo, sponsored by Schaefer Beer.

1968: The parade goes commercial. Responding to a petition by various Puerto Rican organizations, Goya, Accent, Café Caribe and Sazón all donate floats to the parade and once again, the event is hailed a success.

1969: The parade marks its first political incident, as supporters of Castro and Puerto Rican Nationalists march in protest and try to disturb the festive sprit by yelling “Yankees Go Home!” But nothing can ruin the excitement of over 100,000 marchers and 350,000 spectators. The festivities continued with no further interruptions, highlighted by artists such as the great Rita Moreno.

1972: Hailed as one of the most diverse parades in years, this year the parade opened its doors not just to dignitaries and beauty queens but also to nationalist and militant groups. They are allowed to march peacefully in protest against the U.S. involvement in Puerto Rico.

1975: Once again the parade hits another peak when more than half a million people march up Fifth Avenue for the annual festivities. The parade is dedicated to singer, songwriter and composer Bobby Capó, who, to this day, is considered one of Puerto Rico’s best.

1977: With 350,000-plus in attendance, the parade is once again interrupted, but not by communist or nationalist groups. This time it’s former New York Congressman Herman Badillo. The police had to intervene when, without authorization from parade officials, he and his legion of organizers -- he was running for mayor -- decided to march. “El Diario La Prensa” quoted him as saying, “I march because I am one of the founders of the parade.” To avoid any further disruptions, coordinator Federico Pérez told police to let them march.

1980s: Throughout the ‘80s, the parade goes off without a hitch. It gets larger as more than 200,000 march and attendance nears the one million mark. The parade acquires more sponsors, such as Budweiser and Heineken, and many Puerto Rican legends, like Tito Puente, march. There are also flurries of parades throughout the boroughs and in New Jersey.

1990: One question was on the mind of every Boricua at the parade, should Puerto Ricans living in the United States be allowed to vote on the island’s future? The referendum on whether the island should become a state, stay a commonwealth or become independent was front-page news and on the minds of the politicians, such as then-Bronx Borough President Fernando Ferrer and former New York Mayor David Dinkins. However, some onlookers boo the politicians, deciding the parade was no place for politics.

1995: It goes national! The Puerto Rican Day Parade becomes the National Puerto Rican Day Parade and delegates from 31 states join in. Salsa is the theme this year as singing sensations Tony Vega and Jerry Rivera join the march, along with the granddaddy of them all, Parade Godfather Gilberto Santa Rosa.

1996: The man who is known as the father of Puerto Rican culture, anthropologist, geologist and recipient of the National Endowment for the Humanities award, Dr. Ricardo Alegría, is honored as the grand marshal of the parade. It is dedicated to the Korean War’s highly decorated 65th Infantry Regiment of Puerto Rico. It is also broadcast for the first time on English-language TV, New York's WPIX/Channel 11. Seventy floats and over 150,000 marchers take part. And close to 2 million come out to boo then-Mayor Rudy Giuliani (and cheer Geraldo Rivera).

1998: Oh yes they did! They went there. A week before the “Seinfeld” grand finale and a month before the parade, Boricuas everywhere were shocked when one of the most popular shows in TV history aired the infamous flag-burning episode. The episode is set around the Puerto Rican Day Parade where Seinfeld and his buddies are driving back to the city after a Mets game and get stuck in traffic. Kramer blurts out “every Puerto Rican in the world must be out here.” While lighting a cigar with a sparkler, he sets a Puerto Rican flag on fire when he throws the sparkler in the back seat. In an attempt to put out the flames, he starts stomping on it. A group of spectators see him and declare “Maybe we should stomp you like you stomp the flag!” He screams and runs off as they chase him. Jerry, who by then is in his apartment, makes it to the window in time to see the crowd destroy his car. All while Kramer says, “It's like this every day in Puerto Rico.” Because of the backlash, NBC promised to never air the “Puerto Rican Day Parade” episode again. Coincidentally, the parade for the first time is aired nationally on NBC. Still, organizers were able to attract more corporate sponsors as Hershey and Palmolive join. A heavy downpour would not keep folks away as they danced to the sounds of La India and Marc Anthony and enjoyed watching Julio Diaz, known for dancing around NYC subways with a foam woman attached to his waist.

1999: The first-ever Puerto Rican Day Parade is held in Queens.

2000: It’s a sad day for all, as the parade is dedicated to the memory of Boricua Great Tito Puente, whose unexpected death comes one month before the national event. And, in a shameful turn of events, the parade, not ever having a single incident of lawlessness, is marred by controversy as more than 50 women are assaulted in Central Park. The world watches as video is shown by various news organizations. As it turns out, most of the men arrested were not Latino or Puerto Rican. In total, 18 are arrested for the assaults. The police are accused of not doing enough to stop the attacks. Video showed police doing nothing while the women are groped and stripped.

2001: Although the assaults of the previous year loom over the parade, politicians such as former Mayor Guiliani, Senator Hillary Clinton and Chuck Schumer urge people to not hold the parade responsible for the previous year’s tragedy. Celebrities come out in droves, including boxing champ Tito Trinidad, Marc Anthony, former Ms. Universe Denise Quiñones and Puerto Rico’s first female governor, Sila M. Calderon. The focus of the parade was Vieques and thousands wore white ribbons in support of efforts to stop the bombing and remove the Navy from the island.

2002-2003: Even though a record-breaking 2.5 million Puerto Ricans attended the parade in 2003, the public and media won't forget what happened and the positive message to be proud of Puerto Rican heritage and its contributions to America seems lost.

2004: There’s controversy again as businesses and condos board up their exteriors along the route. Storeowners and tenants claim property will be destroyed by parade goers. The community is outraged and Mayor Bloomberg criticizes the move. The Post sponsors its first float, featuring reggaetón superstars Tego Calderon and Vico C.

2005: Reggaetón continues to rise in popularity. Daddy Yankee is the N.Y. Post's float star. At 96th Street, he has to be escorted out by police as thousands of screaming fans storm police barricades to get close to their idol.

2006: Rocking a guayabera, Mayor Bloomberg marches alongside the Latino mega-power couple Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez. Rosie Perez, Jimmy Smits, Willie Colón and Don Omar, among others, march. Grand Marshal Marc Anthony and J-Lo sit in a convertible and are escorted by NYPD security 12-deep. The New York Post keeps it local, getting Yerba Buena to rock their float with traditional folkloric songs.

Sources/ Notes:

*Boricua: The term boricua has become synonymous with Puerto Rico's native heritage. The island's national anthem, for example, is La Borinqueña. The term comes from the Taíno (original inhabitants of Puerto Rico) word for the island: Boriken. You'll see and hear boricua everywhere in Puerto Rico and anywhere people of Puerto Rican descent gather: on restaurant menus, in songs, in everyday language.

Centro de Estudios Puertorriqueños at Hunter College; El Diario; El Imparcial; El Diario; La Prensa.

* * *

My name is Eddie and I’m a boricua in recovery from civilization…

The Real New York Series [The Bird Lady of Union Square Park]

¡Hola! Everybody...
Click here to read my submission this week for Subversify, an online magazine offering an alternative, subversive perspective to mainstream media, starts...

* * *

-=[ The Offering/ La Ofrenda ]=-

What you think you are is a belief to be undone.

This is part of my non-official, Real New York series.

What is the real New York? It’s all real, actually. But the real question here is: where does one get the genuine stink of authenticity, where does one find the essential essence of The City? Of course, the answer depends on who you are. Perhaps the real New York is the attractive alcoholic woman, obviously going downhill fast, who stands by the entrance to my subway stop some mornings asking for spare change -- and who flirts with me (“Damn, you look hawt today, papi!”) whether or not I give her a dollar. Sometimes weeks roll by and she’s nowhere to be seen and I wonder. Then one morning, she’s there again, asking for change, that undeniable intelligence in her eyes, her fading beauty still there, a tattered paperback peering out of the plastic Chanel bag that serves as her purse.

Or perhaps it's the bird lady of Union Square Park...

One day, a couple of years ago, I played hookie from work. It was one of those early spring days and though it started with rain, a recalcitrant sun eventually vied with obstinate clouds for control of the day. It was lunchtime in one of my favorite reading spots in The City in Union Square Park. There’s a life-sized statue of Gandhi there and people often put fresh cut flowers in its hands.

I have done this many times. I have several “power spots” throughout the city where I go read, observe, and contemplate, alone yet surrounded -- I like the feeling of stillness surrounded by frantic activity. On that day, no sooner than I had settled on a bench, a woman with long white, wild hair came shuffling toward me. I was hoping she wouldn’t sit next to me; I didn’t want to smell yet another homeless person (such is the way people become invisible). Perhaps reading me, she sat down rigidly across from me. I wanted to get back to my reading. But she stared at me intensely. Then slowly, reflectively, as if following some unknown anointment ritual, she emptied a bag of birdseed on her shoulders. It was a strange sight even for La Gran Manzana -- the capital of weirdness. I noticed how the seeds clung to her hair and clothes, pooled onto her lap, into the folds of her worn clothes, and scattered over her soiled sneakers. Then she leaned back and, after fixing me once more with that intense gaze, she stretched her arms and closed her eyes.

A brief moment passed and first one pigeon flew to her and then several more, and then a dozen or more. They congregated on her arms, pecking at the seeds and one another as they fed greedily. Soon the edges of her body were blurred in a flutter of wings. I sat there transfixed thinking this was an act of madness -- clearly this woman was crazy; it seemed as if the birds were devouring her. At the same time, the act took on an aura of magic. All the while she was disappearing into this chaotic mass of feathers, she was whispering an incantation in a language I couldn’t make out. I sat there hypnotized, my open book now forgotten.

I noticed that others were staring also. People glanced up from their paper bag lunches or reading their newspapers and gasped. Young mothers pushing strollers stopped and gawked. It was a gesture of such tremendous force that it took us out of our little protective shells, the cocoons of fearful lives, and we forgot ourselves for that brief moment. we were her audience -- witnesses to what I call her offering -- and we came together for that brief moment and we were connected somehow. It was as if her act served to break down the walls between us.

In a few minutes, the birds had their fill and one by one, flew away, and the woman calmly grabbed her bag and shuffled away.

Such was the power of her act that for hours afterward I felt as if in a dream and the streets of The City seemed to me new again.

And such is life in The City -- if we stay here long enough, we become immune and lose our sense of awe and forget even that we once possessed it. Then something happens to shatter the routine: a blizzard, or a blackout, even a terrorist act and for a few miraculous hours, we come together as our lives are upended and we notice each other’s presence and come into the awareness of the possibilities of human connection. Strangers reach out to one another; aid is offered without condition, hearts are opened. In a sense, this awareness, this presence, is a form of meditation in action.

I guess part of the reason I live here because the challenge of The City is to figure if this experience of openness can be cultivated and made to last.

My Name is Eddie and I'm in recovery from civilization...

Mirrors of the Self, pt. I

¡Hola! Everybody...
Taking a few days off, trying to organize my place and then spend some time with mother dear!

* * *

(l-r) My sister Darlene, my maternal grandmother holding my newborn cousin, and myself

I was my grandmother's favorite. Sometimes it was cruel, but she made it clear to everyone that I was her heart. Every time she saw me, it was all hugs and presents -- secretly handed folded crisp bills, a toy, a bicycle. My grandmother worked her fingers to the bone in the garment industry, exploited by heartless men who paid her by the piece. She would bring bags of work home and cut lace by the miles. She always had something for me, even if she didn't have for the rest of the grandchildren. I was her fair-haired boy. My paternal grandmother died when my father was a mere boy, but his sister, my aunt, was a surrogate grandmother for me. And here too, I was her favorite. Both women knew pain. The pain of arthritis, of hands broken down by years of hard, relentless work. My aunt was a washerwoman, whose hands were stripped of skin from the harsh chemicals of her trade. Both women knew pain, both worked hard, were poor, but they always seemed to have enough for me. It was only when I grew older I realized the tremendous sacrifice a bicycle or a brand new pair of shoes meant to them. They gave and never asked for anything in return, except perhaps that I be a good boy and do well in school...

-=[ Song of the Self: The Grandmother ]=-
-- Alma Luz Villanueva

Surrounded by my shields, am
I:
Surrounded by my children, am
I:
I am the void.
I am the womb of remembrance.
I am the flowering darkness.
I am the flower, first flesh.

Utter darkness I inhabit --
There, I watch creation unfold --
There, I know we begin and end --
Again. In this darkness, I am
Turning, turning toward a birth:
My own -- a newborn grandmother
Am I, suckling light. Rainbow
Serpent covers me, head to foot,
In endless circles -- covers me,
That I may live forever, in this
Form or another. The skin she
Leaves behind glitters with
The question, with the answer,
With the promise:
"Do you remember yourself?"
"I am always woman."
"Flesh is flower, forever."

I enter darkness, to enter birth,
To wear the Rainbow, to hear her
Hissing loudly, clearly, in my
Inner ear: love.

I am spiraling, I am spinning,
I am singing this Grandmother's Song.
I am remembering forever, where we
Belong.

Praise Poem Tradition

¡Hola! Everybody...
In some cultures, part of the coming-of-age ritual involved announcing yourself to the world. It was a way of identifying your gifts, of establishing who you were, and what you were bringing to your community. In a way, the praise poem tradition forced a member of a tribe or society to recognize and commit to their gifts. The following poem, written by Aurora Levins Morales, was inspired by her multicultural heritage and diversity. In it, she identifies the virtues of her diversity, the power she derives from her multi-ethnic make up. Perhaps you can write a poem following her format describing your own ethnic background.

* * *
-=[ Child of the Americas ]=-


I am a child of the Americas,
a light-skinned mestiza from the Carribean,
a child of many diaspora, born into this continent at a crossroads.

I am a U.S. Puerto Rican Jew,
a product of the ghettos of New York I have never known.
An immigrant of the daughter and grandaughter of immigrants.
I speak English with passion: it's the tongue of my consciousness,
a flashing blade of cristal, my tool, my craft.

I am Caribeña, island-grown. Spanish is my flesh,
Ripples from my tongue, lodges in my hips:
the language of garlic and mangoes,
the singing of poetry, the flying gestures of my hands.
I am of Latinoamerica, rooted in the history of my continent,
I speak from that body.

I am not African. Africa is in me, but I cannot return.
I am not taína. Taíno is in me, but there is no way back.
I am not European. Europe lives in me, but I have no home there.

I am new. History has made me. My first language was spanglish.
I was born at the crossroads
and I am whole.

-- Aurora Levins Morales

Sunday Sermon [La Ofrenda/ The Offering]

¡Hola! Everybody...
When I first wrote this, I had some responses along the lines of, "it was just some deranged lady... " And I guess, perception is an important consideration. However, being present (which is what this post is really about) is everything. Life is like the Lotto, you gotta be in it to win it...

* * *

-=[ The Offering/ La Ofrenda ]=-

What you think you are is a belief to be undone.

One day, a couple of years ago, I played hookie from work. It was one of those early spring days and though it started with rain, a jealous sun was attempting to break through obstinate clouds. It was lunchtime in one of my favorite reading spots in The City in Union Square Park. There’s a life-sized statue of Gandhi there and people often put fresh cut flowers in its hands.

I have done this many times. I have several “power spots” throughout the city where I go read, observe, and contemplate, alone yet surrounded -- stillness surrounded by frantic activity. On that day, no sooner than I had settled on a bench, a woman with long white, wild hair came shuffling toward me. I was hoping she wouldn’t sit next to me; I didn’t want to smell yet another homeless person (such is the way we make people invisible). Perhaps reading me, she sat down rigidly across from me. I wanted to get back to my reading. But she stared at me intensely. Then slowly, reflectively, as if following some unknown anointment ritual, she emptied a bag of birdseed on her shoulders. It was a strange sight even for La Gran Manzana -- the capital of woerdness. I noticed how the seeds clung to her hair and clothes, pooled onto her lap, into the folds of her worn clothes, and scattered over her soiled sneakers. Then she leaned back and, after fixing me once more with that intense gaze, she stretched her arms and closed her eyes.

A brief moment passed and first one pigeon flew to her and then several more, and then a dozen or more. They congregated on her arms, pecking at the seeds and one another in a feeding frenzy. Soon the edges of her body were blurred in a flutter of wings. I sat there transfixed thinking this was an act of madness -- clearly this woman was crazy; it seemed as if the birds were devouring her. At the same time, the act took on an air of magic. All the while she was disappearing into this chaotic mass of feathers, she was whispering an incantation in a language I couldn’t make out. I sat there hypnotized, my open book now forgotten.

I noticed that others were staring also. People glanced up from their paper bag lunches or reading their newspapers and gasped. Young mothers pushing strollers stopped and gawked. It was a gesture of such tremendous force that it took us out of our little protective shells, from the cocoons of fearful lives and we forgot ourselves for that brief moment. Her audience -- witnesses to what I call her offering -- came together for that brief time and we were connected somehow. It was as if her act served to break down the walls between us.

In a few minutes, the birds had their fill and one by one, flew away, and the woman calmly grabbed her bag and shuffled away.

Such was the power of her act that for hours afterward I felt as if in a dream and the streets of The City seemed to me new again.

And such is life in The City -- if we stay here long enough, we become immune and lose our sense of awe and forget even that we possessed it. Then something happens to shatter the routine: a blizzard, or a blackout, even a terrorist act and for a few miraculous hours, we come together as our lives are upended and we notice each other’s presence and come into the awareness of the possibilities of human connection. Strangers reach out to one another; aid is offered without condition, hearts are opened. In a sense, this awareness, this presence, is a form of meditation in action.

I guess part of the reason I live here because the challenge of The City is to figure if this experience of openness can be cultivated and made to last.

Love,

Eddie

¡Despierta Boricua!

¡Hola! Everybody…
I’m headed out the door to go to the Puerto Rican Day Parade. Contrary to what you may, or may not, have heard, the parade isn’t a rape fest, or an organized crime spree. I had wanted to post a real history of the parade, how it started and why, and how it was really the efforts of a sole Puerto Rican woman, but I don’t have the time right now. The following was posted by a Boricua for the NY Post several years ago and it features the many high (and low) lights of what is still one of the largest (if not the largest) outdoor event in the U.S.

A little personal side note: one of my sister’s was a PR Parade Beauty queen (in the mid 70s).

* * *

Unlikely to be fullfilled, Herman Roche
Courtesy of Walter Otero Gallery, Puerto Rico

-=[ Puerto Rican Parade ]=-

50 Greatest Moments

By Eneida del Valle

Last Updated: 5:00 AM, June 6, 2007 / Posted: 5:00 AM, June 6, 2007

From beauty queens who marched in heels to politicians who sported fake smiles to win some votes, to the controversial 'Seinfeld' episode, the Puerto Rican Parade has made Big Apple history for over half a century.

March 1958: Leaders from the Puerto Rican community decide to break away from the Hispanic Day Parade and create the Puerto Rican Day Parade. According to an editorial in "El Diario," the main objective of the Hispanic Day Parade, which was mainly run by Puerto Ricans, is to unite all peoples of the Spanish language. The Puerto Rican Day Parade is founded by Victor Lopez, the march’s first president; coordinator Jose “Chuito” Caballero; Peter Ortiz; Luisa Quintero; Luis Amando Feliciano; Vicente Hernández; Angel M. Arroyo; Atanacio Rivera Feliciano; and Amalio Maisanave Ríos.

April 1958: The first Puerto Rican Day parade is held on Fifth Avenue on April 14 as 5,000 Boricuas march in front of a crowd of 125,000. It’s a huge success, receiving a hail of positive reviews from the media. The Herald Tribune says, “There are longer and larger parades but none encompass the spirit of the Puerto Rican Day Parade,” and the New York Times says, “The Puerto Ricans have taken over Fifth Avenue.” Then-New York Mayor Robert F. Wagner is quoted in the New York Times, as saying “The Puerto Ricans have demonstrated their civic and cultural contributions to the City of New York.” But what really got tongues wagging was when Gloria Burgos, the queen of the parade, and her court, walked all 34 blocks in high heels after the float she was supposed to appear on never showed up. Attendees included then-Governor of Puerto Rico Don Luis Muñoz Marin and Oscar González Suarez, Esq. as the Grand Marshall.

April 12, 1959: The second parade goes off -- but not without a hitch. Community leaders and the media form an alliance called Un Frente Unido por un Solo Desfile (A United Front for One Parade) in an effort to unite the Hispanic Day Parade and the Puerto Rican Day Parade, urging organizers for unity and harmony. But to no avail. The president of the parade, Mr. Victor Lopez, is quoted in El Diario de Nueva York as saying, “The parade will definitely not unite with any other Hispanic parade in New York City.” Despite the 40-degree weather, it’s attended by 160,000 people and more than 10,000 people make their way up Fifth Avenue. Then-New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller is in attendance.

April 1960 & 1961: Parade continues its success up Fifth Avenue with more than 165,000 in attendance both years.

June 1962: It’s official! The parade is held on June 10, the second Sunday in June and that date has not changed since. In order to have the legislators from the main island attend the parade – they’re all tied up until May 30 -- organizers decide to change the date to accommodate them and the route is extended from 44th-86th streets. Good thing they waited! The ‘62 parade is billed as the best, brightest, biggest and most expensive ever, costing $100,000 with 50 floats and 40 bands -- and half a million Boricuas in attendance. Yet it was former Mayor of San Juan Felisa Rincón who stole the show. Instead of staying with the rest of the politicians at the stage on 64th Street, she made the decision to ride in a convertible, causing an outpouring of love and support from the crowd.

1965: Described as the best organized parade yet, thousands of people start lining along the route to get a glimpse of what the media called “The most genuine representation of Boricuas in the United States.”

1967: For the first time in its history, the Puerto Rican Day Parade is broadcast on television the same evening, June 4 from 9 p.m.-10:30 p.m. on channel 47 Telemundo, sponsored by Schaefer Beer.

1968: The parade goes commercial. Responding to a petition by various Puerto Rican organizations, Goya, Accent, Café Caribe and Sazón all donate floats to the parade and once again, the event is hailed a success.

1969: The parade marks its first political incident, as supporters of Castro and Puerto Rican Nationalists march in protest and try to disturb the festive sprit by yelling “Yankees Go Home!” But nothing can ruin the excitement of over 100,000 marchers and 350,000 spectators. The festivities continued with no further interruptions, highlighted by artists such as the great Rita Moreno.

1972: Hailed as one of the most diverse parades in years, this year the parade opened its doors not just to dignitaries and beauty queens but also to nationalist and militant groups. They are allowed to march peacefully in protest against the U.S. involvement in Puerto Rico.

1975: Once again the parade hits another peak when more than half a million people march up Fifth Avenue for the annual festivities. The parade is dedicated to singer, songwriter and composer Bobby Capó, who, to this day, is considered one of Puerto Rico’s best.

1977: With 350,000-plus in attendance, the parade is once again interrupted, but not by communist or nationalist groups. This time it’s former New York Congressman Herman Badillo. The police had to intervene when, without authorization from parade officials, he and his legion of organizers -- he was running for mayor -- decided to march. “El Diario La Prensa” quoted him as saying, “I march because I am one of the founders of the parade.” To avoid any further disruptions, coordinator Federico Pérez told police to let them march.

1980s: Throughout the ‘80s, the parade goes off without a hitch. It gets larger as more than 200,000 march and attendance nears the one million mark. The parade acquires more sponsors, such as Budweiser and Heineken, and many Puerto Rican legends, like Tito Puente, march. There are also flurries of parades throughout the boroughs and in New Jersey.

1990: One question was on the mind of every Boricua at the parade, should Puerto Ricans living in the United States be allowed to vote on the island’s future? The referendum on whether the island should become a state, stay a commonwealth or become independent was front-page news and on the minds of the politicians, such as then-Bronx Borough President Fernando Ferrer and former New York Mayor David Dinkins. However, some onlookers boo the politicians, deciding the parade was no place for politics.

1995: It goes national! The Puerto Rican Day Parade becomes the National Puerto Rican Day Parade and delegates from 31 states join in. Salsa is the theme this year as singing sensations Tony Vega and Jerry Rivera join the march, along with the granddaddy of them all, Parade Godfather Gilberto Santa Rosa.

1996: The man who is known as the father of Puerto Rican culture, anthropologist, geologist and recipient of the National Endowment for the Humanities award, Dr. Ricardo Alegría, is honored as the grand marshal of the parade. It is dedicated to the Korean War’s highly decorated 65th Infantry Regiment of Puerto Rico. It is also broadcast for the first time on English-language TV, New York's WPIX/Channel 11. Seventy floats and over 150,000 marchers take part. And close to 2 million come out to boo then-Mayor Rudy Giuliani (and cheer Geraldo Rivera).

1998: Oh yes they did! They went there. A week before the “Seinfeld” grand finale and a month before the parade, Boricuas everywhere were shocked when one of the most popular shows in TV history aired the infamous flag-burning episode. The episode is set around the Puerto Rican Day Parade where Seinfeld and his buddies are driving back to the city after a Mets game and get stuck in traffic. Kramer blurts out “every Puerto Rican in the world must be out here.” While lighting a cigar with a sparkler, he sets a Puerto Rican flag on fire when he throws the sparkler in the back seat. In an attempt to put out the flames, he starts stomping on it. A group of spectators see him and declare “Maybe we should stomp you like you stomp the flag!” He screams and runs off as they chase him. Jerry, who by then is in his apartment, makes it to the window in time to see the crowd destroy his car. All while Kramer says, “It's like this every day in Puerto Rico.” Because of the backlash, NBC promised to never air the “Puerto Rican Day Parade” episode again. Coincidentally, the parade for the first time is aired nationally on NBC. Still, organizers were able to attract more corporate sponsors as Hershey and Palmolive join. A heavy downpour would not keep folks away as they danced to the sounds of La India and Marc Anthony and enjoyed watching Julio Diaz, known for dancing around NYC subways with a foam woman attached to his waist.

1999: The first-ever Puerto Rican Day Parade is held in Queens.

2000: It’s a sad day for all, as the parade is dedicated to the memory of Boricua Great Tito Puente, whose unexpected death comes one month before the national event. And, in a shameful turn of events, the parade, not ever having a single incident of lawlessness, is marred by controversy as more than 50 women are assaulted in Central Park. The world watches as video is shown by various news organizations. As it turns out, most of the men arrested were not Latino or Puerto Rican. In total, 18 are arrested for the assaults. The police are accused of not doing enough to stop the attacks. Video showed police doing nothing while the women are groped and stripped.

2001: Although the assaults of the previous year loom over the parade, politicians such as former Mayor Guiliani, Senator Hillary Clinton and Chuck Schumer urge people to not hold the parade responsible for the previous year’s tragedy. Celebrities come out in droves, including boxing champ Tito Trinidad, Marc Anthony, former Ms. Universe Denise Quiñones and Puerto Rico’s first female governor, Sila M. Calderon. The focus of the parade was Vieques and thousands wore white ribbons in support of efforts to stop the bombing and remove the Navy from the island.

2002-2003: Even though a record-breaking 2.5 million Puerto Ricans attended the parade in 2003, the public and media won't forget what happened and the positive message to be proud of Puerto Rican heritage and its contributions to America seems lost.

2004: There’s controversy again as businesses and condos board up their exteriors along the route. Storeowners and tenants claim property will be destroyed by parade goers. The community is outraged and Mayor Bloomberg criticizes the move. The Post sponsors its first float, featuring reggaetón superstars Tego Calderon and Vico C.

2005: Reggaetón continues to rise in popularity. Daddy Yankee is the N.Y. Post's float star. At 96th Street, he has to be escorted out by police as thousands of screaming fans storm police barricades to get close to their idol.

2006: Rocking a guayabera, Mayor Bloomberg marches alongside the Latino mega-power couple Marc Anthony and Jennifer Lopez. Rosie Perez, Jimmy Smits, Willie Colón and Don Omar, among others, march. Grand Marshal Marc Anthony and J-Lo sit in a convertible and are escorted by NYPD security 12-deep. The New York Post keeps it local, getting Yerba Buena to rock their float with traditional folkloric songs.

Sources: Centro de Estudios Puertorriqueños at Hunter College; El Diario; El Imparcial; El Diario; La Prensa.

* * *

Love,

Eddie

Latinidad!

¡Hola! Everybody…
I’m headed out the annual 116th Street Festival in East Harlem …Tomorrow I will be attending the largest outdoor event in the U.S. -- the Puerto Rican Day Parade.

During the 1960’s an identity movement by Puerto Ricans in New York gave birth to an artistic movement encompassing literature and music. This new movement had its roots in a strong political background and was influenced by the black civil rights movement. Early Nuyorican writers were for the most part linked to activist organizations such as the Young Lords, organizations that promoted social and economic justice, and personal/ political empowerment. The movement brought a sense of pride and identity to Puerto Ricans and channeled their dissatisfaction into a political movement. Artistically, this movement had a huge impact on literature and music. More on Nuyoricans tomorrow. Today I want to share a poem that exemplifies what it means to be a Puerto Rican in a black and white world. I believe the Latino/a racial paradigm has the potential to transform the racial dynamics in the U.S.

* * *

-=[ Child of the Americas ]=-

I am a child of the Americas,
a light-skinned mestiza of the Caribbean,
a child of many diaspora, born into this continent at a crossroads.

I am a U.S. Puerto rican Jew,
a product of the ghettos of new York I have never known.
An immigrant and the daughter and granddaughter of immigrants.
I speak English with passion: it's the tongue of my consciouness,
a flashing knife blade of cristal, my tool, my craft.

I am Caribeña, island grown. Spanish is my flesh,
Ripples from my tongue, lodges in my hips:
the language of garlic and mangoes,
the singing of poetry, the flying gesture of my hands.
I am of Latinoamerica, rooted in the history of my continent:
I speak from that body.

I am not African. Africa is in me, but I cannot return.
I am not taína. Taíno is in me, but there is no way back.
I am not European. Europe lives in me, but I have no home there.

I am new. History made me. My first language was spanglish.
I was born at the crossroads
and I am whole.

-- Aurora Levins Morales

Latino/as in The USA, pt. II

¡Hola! Everybody...
I usually don't cut-and-paste, but this Latina is such a valuable resource when it comes to Latino/a cultural identity that I thought it was worthwhile. I got it from the official website of the PBS drama, American Family, the only dramatic series totally created and controlled by Latino/as. The writing was by Latino/as, as was the direction -- everything.

Get this: none of the major networks (not even HBO and Showtime) wanted to air this! Check out their website.

I will be offering a series of blogs elaborating on some of the issues raised by Doña Rodriguez... I will be gone all day. Today, as usual, is my longest day of the week.

* * *

-=[ What It Means to be Latino ]=-

by Dr. Clara E. Rodríguez

To be a Latino means that in the 2000 U.S. census, you were counted as one of 35.3 million people, of any race, classified as “Hispanic,” and that you were part of a group that comprised 12.5% of the total U.S. population. It means you are part of a group that now equals, or has surpassed, African Americans in number. It also means that you are part of a group that is growing faster than all other groups (50% since 1990) and is expected to continue to grow rapidly because of high immigration, high fertility rates, and the youthfulness of the current population. Only Asian Americans, who represented 3.6% of the U.S. population in 2000, had greater rates of growth. Finally, it means that you are a member of a very diverse group, in terms of socioeconomic positions, religions, racial classifications, and national origins.

If we look at the Hispanic/Latino population pie in 2000, we see that Mexicans comprised the majority of all Latinos (58.5% or 20.6 million). Puerto Ricans were the second largest Latino group, constituting 9.6% of all Latinos or 3.4 million. However, if we include the 3.8 million Puerto Ricans who resided in Puerto Rico, then this figure more than doubles. Cubans were the next largest single national origin group and constitute 3.5% of the total Latino population, followed by Dominicans with 2.2%. Collectively, the Central American countries accounted for 4.8% of the total Latino pie, with Salvadorans (1.9%) and Guatemalans (1.1%) being the two largest groups among Central Americans. South Americans comprised another 3.8% of the total U.S. Latino population with Colombians (1.3%) the largest group here. All of the other countries in Central and South America constituted less than 1% each of the total Hispanic population. Interestingly, in view of the extensive diversity of national origins, there was a surprising 17.3% that reported they were Hispanic or Latino but did not indicate a national origin. Analyses have yet to be done on this group, but it may be that this fast-growing group represents either those who have parents from more than one country, or, those who consider themselves “Hispanic/Latino,” but do not identify with a particular country.

Although historically there are important regional concentrations of each of these groups, e.g., Cubans in Florida, Puerto Ricans in the Northeast, and Mexicans in California and the Southwest, there is increasing Latino heterogeneity in all of these areas. All states now have Latino populations, many of which are increasing rapidly, and almost all cities are experiencing substantial changes in their Latino mix. For example, Miami now has an increasingly diverse Latin American population, with Colombians, Puerto Ricans, and diverse Central and South Americans increasing their presence. New York City now has substantial and growing Dominican, Colombian, Ecuadorian and Mexican populations. The same is true of Los Angeles and other large cities and many suburban areas.

Being Latino also means that you lay claim to one (or more) of the rich and unique histories that each of these groups brings to the United States. Likewise, each of these groups has had a unique narrative in the United States, involving different times of arrival, areas of settlement, and types of migration and reception experiences. Like so many other groups coming to the United States, some groups came mainly as political refugees, or, political exiles without the benefit of refugee status. Others came as free or contracted laborers, and still others simply as immigrants looking to improve the opportunities in their lives. Unlike most other groups, Latinos have come from this hemisphere. Therefore, they have been consistently impacted by U.S. hemispheric policy and they have had more “va y ven” (coming and going) between their countries and the United States. This has contributed to the sustenance of the Spanish language and multiculturalism within Latino communities while adding new infusions of Latinos to the United States.

Since Latinos have been part of the U.S. landscape for centuries, the nature of the migrations has also varied over time. For example, political immigrants or exiles were more characteristic of the migration from Puerto Rico in the late 19th century, while those who came in search of work characterized the exodus in the mid 20th century. There were also varying methods of migration, where some groups arrived mainly by boat, others by plane, and still others over land in cars, trains, or buses. Some have arrived legally as immigrants, others were undocumented. Some became naturalized citizens, others became citizens because they were born in the United States and still others arrived as citizens or became citizens because their lands had become subject to United States rule. Different groups have also had different receptions in the U.S. at different times.

Being Latino means a connection to the Spanish language, although, in Latin America there are also a multiplicity of other languages spoken by various groups, e.g., the indigenous peoples. Each Latino group coming to the U.S. spoke Spanish, but each country has its particular way of speaking Spanish. Spanish speakers throughout Latin America and the Caribbean understand one another. However, the way the language is spoken varies according to class, regional, ethnic and racial differences within each country. If we think about how English is spoken in Australia, Britain, Brooklyn, New York, as well as the southern, eastern, and midwestern parts of the United States, we have some idea of how the same language can vary with regard to accent, intonation patterns, and vocabulary. Curiously, however, you can be called a Latino, or classified a Hispanic, and yet not speak Spanish very well or at all.

Finally, being Latino means you are a part of one or more groups that have their own unique cuisine, music, and cultural and artistic traditions. For example, spicy, hot food is common in some diets and relatively absent in others. But there are also some commonalties. For example, in the same way that meat and potatoes can be considered a staple of the U.S. American diet -though not everyone eats this – rice and beans are a staple throughout much of Latin America. Pink beans are preferred in some countries, black beans in others, and pinto beans in still yet others and so on. Most members of each group are proud of their own uniqueness and history – both in this country and in their country of origin. However, as Celia Cruz, the great Cuban Salsa singer, has said, “we are all brothers in a different country” and the level of bonding and common identification often goes beyond speaking Spanish.

On Terminology: Hispanic or Latino?

The term “Hispanic” is often used interchangeably with the term “Latino.” The term “Hispanic” was introduced into the English language and into the 1970 census by government officials who were searching for a generic term that would include all who came from, or who had parents who came from, Spanish-speaking countries. It is, therefore, an English-language term that is not generally used in Spanish-speaking countries. The term “Latino,” on the other hand, is a Spanish-language term that has increased in usage since the introduction of the term Hispanic. Some Latinos/Hispanics feel strongly about which term they prefer. Some reject both terms, and insist they should be known by their national origin; still others use all terms and vary their usage depending on context.

Those who prefer “Latino” argue that the term preserves the flavor of national origin and the political relationship between the U.S. and Latin America. Also, they say that it is more culturally neutral and racially inclusive of all groups in Latin America. For example, those of indigenous, African, European and mixed origins are assumed to be Latinos, as are Brazilians, whose main language is Portuguese. In addition, they argue that it is less associated with Eurocentric Hispanistas, who were largely conservative wealthy landowning groups; and lastly, they maintain that it is the term most used in numerous editorials that are written in both Spanish and English.

Those who prefer the term “Hispanic” maintain that it should be used because the data on this population is gathered using this term, and the data should not be re-labeled. It is seen to be preferable for scientific publications because it is seen to be more rigorous and consistent with the data. It is argued that Hispanic is a more universal term because this is the term used by most agencies and other data gathers, while Latino is a regional term more often used in areas where there are large numbers of native Spanish-speakers. In essence, the argument is that this is the term that most people - particularly those living far from Spanish-speaking populations will use. The term includes those from Spain, although it does not cover those from Brazil. It is also argued that the term “Latino” might be legally problematic, for others of “Latin” descent whose families have never lived in Latin America, e.g., the French, Italians, and others might conceivably argue that they are “Latinos” and therefore should be considered minorities.

Dr. Clara E. Rodríguez is a Professor at Fordham University, Lincoln Center campus. Her last two books are Changing Race: Latinos, the Census and the History of Ethnicity in the United States, New York University Press, 2000, and Latin Looks: Latina and Latino Images in the U.S. Media, Boulder, CO.: Westview Press, 1997.

Love,

Eddie

Latino/as in America, pt. I

¡Hola! Everybody...
If you haven’t caught the PBS special, Latin Music USA, then you’re missing a real treat. I’m not always too happy about the way Latino/as are portrayed and/ or studied, but this offering is one helluva treat. It’s well done, authentic, and the people responsible for bringing this together obviously did their homework. What we have here is a look into the very essence of Latino/a culture as told by the people themselves. In fact, Latin Music USA isn’t just about Latin Music, it is the story of America -- of all the Americas.

I was asked to briefly describe “Latin music,” and here’s my totally ad-libbed response:

Latin music is more than a musical genre, it is an urban folklore, a way of life; the receptacle of all that is Latino/a. It is Latinidad itself, the sway of a Latina's hips as she revels in rhythms older than time itself. It is el grito del pueblo set to a clave beat, a fatback backbeat, a dembo pulse. Latin music is at once all things and one thing. It is the exuberance of a joyful of people expressed through the poetry of feet, hands, and heart.

It’s Latino/a Month and I’ll be writing on things Latino/a for most of the rest of what’s left of this month...

* * *

-=[ Latinidad ]=-

I am not African. Africa is in me, but I cannot return.
I am not Taína. Taíno is in me, but there is no way back.
I am not European. Europe lives in me, but I have no home there.

I am new. History made me. My first language was Spanglish.
I was born at the crossroads. History made me.
-- Aurora Levins Morales, Child of the Americas

I’ve been lax this month, ignoring my Latinidad. So today, I have to start from somewhere and I wonder if I can even do it. I mean, to explore the essence of all that is Latino/a -- Latinidad -- is like trying to explore the ocean.

So, I’ll start here, in the good ole U.S. of A. A little about me: I was born in New York City of Puerto Rican parents and so my experience of Latinidad is filtered through those complications. I am light-skinned with blue-eyes, but I am not white. I was born in America, but I identify as a Nuyorican, or as the Nuyorican poet, Tato Laviera, likes to say, an Ame-Rican. I am an old-school Puerto Rican whose beach haunts were Brighton and Orchard, the tar-papered roof tops of Manhattan, and not Luquillo, nor the world-famous surf of Rincon. I don’t speak Spanish... only. I speak it fluently, it rolls off my tongue in quick, New York-paced staccato bursts, and sometimes I season it with English, or a hybrid language all its own: Spanglish. My culture is profoundly African, the ancient Orishas surely looking over my tormented soul, but I am not black. Nor am I Indian, though my spiritual birthplace is Borinquen, the land of the brave and peaceful Taino warriors. I may not have been born in Puerto Rico, but surely, Puerto Rico was born in me. I am none of these things and all of them...

See? I told you it was complicated. But, actually, I’m not. I am, to paraphrase the lovely Aurora, a Stepchild of the Americas.

I hope to give you a glimpse into me and in that way offer you a glimpse of things Latino/a, for, as you might already sense, Latino/as will eventually take over. Don’t worry, we come in all colors, the blood of humankind flows through us. We come in all political orientations too! It is said that the Chicanos in California gave Gore the 2000 presidential election and the Miami Cubans took it away. To be sure, without Latino/as, Obama’s historic campaign would have fallen short.

We have arrived, some pundits say, but I have news for you: we were always here, long before the Daughter of the American Revolution lost her cherry, long before even the first slave ships infiltrated the Caribbean. And I’m sorry Lou Dobbs, but “Spanish is Spoken Here” happened long before your hungry ancestors even thought of immigrating.

There is much to cover here, for while we have indeed arrived, and continue to do so, we are also being targeted as scapegoats for every conceivable social ill. We are at once desired and despised, but I’m here to set the record straight... stay tuned.

WEPA!

Eddie

Problem-Solving

¡Hola! Everybody...
People: you may not realize it, but we’re in the midst of a huge historical transition. We have a president who’s doing his best to get his message out. Whether you agree with him or not, you should be paying attention. Fuck American Idol! Part of the reason you’re getting fucked without the consideration of a kiss is that you’re amusing yourself to death. We as a people have become the laughing stock of the world and with good reason... Best line of the night was Obama’s response to the reporter’s insistent question of why he waited two days to express outrage at the AIG bonuses: “Because I like to know what I’m talking about before I speak, that’s why... ” Want a ghetto translation? Nigga Please! LOL!

In case you haven’t heard there’s a woman here in NYC who was married to a gazillionaire 30 years her senior. She signed a post-nuptial agreement that left her something like $48 million! She’s changed her mind because she claims she can’t live on anything less than $53 thousand a week (click here for a breakdown of her budget). She ain’t even that fine (she has that pallid constipated look most women who consciously starve themselves sport). I guess that poosie was good, I dunno. OTOH, she should be entitled half of the man’s net worth and she’s only asking for a third (he’s worth over $300 million).

Sometimes I’ll read something I wrote several years ago and I wonder who wrote it. LOL... (repost)

* * *

-=[ Problems ]=-

“Test pilots have a litmus test for evaluating problems. When something goes wrong, they ask, ‘Is this thing still flying?’ If the answer is yes, then there's no immediate danger, no need to overreact.”

-- Alan L. Bean(1932 – ) US Astronaut, Apollo 12 Moon-walk mission

The Wonderful World of Problems! LOL!

Stop to think about it: how would you feel, who would your friends be, how would you live, dress, walk, or speak if you had no problems? How at peace with yourself would you be if you had no bills, or hadn’t been sexually abused, beaten by your drunk of a father, or had a different job? How would you feel without hate for a parent, or with a different boss, or girl/ boyfriend, or engaged in a satisfying romantic relationship?

How would you act without your problems?

Yesterday’s responses to the set of “who’s responsible” questions I posted are the self created road blocks we habitually identify as problems. Along with everything in our lives, we perceive our problems to be the result of fate -- therefore impossible to change. However, as much as we anguish over our problems, the truth is, no matter how much better we think we would be without them, the idea of liberating yourself from your problems is terrifying. Sounds crazy, huh? But no: problems give us our identity.

I remember becoming deeply upset when someone said that there are no such things as problems, only our attitudes towards living. It was one of the few times of my life I can remember possessing a sincere desire to kill. I am exaggerating, but I think you can identify. There I was, my world was collapsing around me, I’ve barely had my recovery by the skin of my teeth, and this asshole was telling me there are no problems in life?! Looking back now, the fact of the matter was that my collapsing world was my life. It was all I knew. It was my identity.

We think we are our problems. In other words, we think our problems are a part of who we are. Well, they’re not, and that’s why I began with the “who’s responsible” questions, so that we could see that all those hurts, blames, and regrets are what we think we are (or what we think we have to be), when in truth they’re nothing more than our own limited thinking born from a false belief system and thought constellation. Our problems are how we create our identity, the image we present to the outside world.

(Now please! Do not try to over simplify what I am saying by pointing to the suffering in the Gulf area and laying the blame solely on the victims of what is a horrifying nightmare come true. Some “problems” are more intense that others. My point is – how do WE become fixated on the problem and not the solution!)

Having problems is a chronic habit. Limited thinking is a habit and as addictive as any food or drug. Like alcohol, or bingeing, we give our problems priority in our lives. We live by them. We are them. In addition, we create them with the same consistency as an assembly line to give us the identity we think we need to have.

Limited, or faulty, thinking in any sense is not good for our happiness, except in the sense that we glorify our manufactured identity: the who of what we think we are. Let’s say, for example, you’re sacrificing your life for your child, that’s limited thinking (limited in the sense that it’s like a frozen thinking: there are no options in frozen thinking). This is also a manufactured identity: “suffering parent, that’s me!” Another example: you can’t get ahead in life because of your lack of education, another limited and manufactured identity. Or, here’s a popular one: you only attract jerks for lovers -- also a limited and manufactured identity.

Problems become real because we doubt our true selves. We believe in the myth of ourselves as limited and without power when in actuality we are walking miracles endowed with a divine spark. Simply put, because we have no faith in our true selves, we have created “identity shells.” Out of feelings of worthlessness, or fear, we create identities -- personas -- to bring meaning to a life without apparent purpose, a life with out a true understanding of its own reality. Problems, folks, give us that purpose. Problems create for us our own imagined reality.

Just look at how we live with problems. They consume our thoughts. We plan around them, and for them. We talk incessantly about them, go to shrinks over them, and spend a huge portion of our lives totally obsessed by them.

What would we be without our problems?

Our problems are so dear to us that in the unlikely event one might get solved, instead of being grateful, we run right out and find another one, right now! “Hey! It’s my problem, and while it may bring me pain, it’s the only existence I know and it’s better than the unknown,” someone might say.

Living life at the mercy of our problems is living life as a victim.

Love,

Eddie