Being Puerto Rican

I recently made a new friend (hi Kimmy!) who's a fellow Boricua. She mentioned to me during one of our conversations that while growing up in an all white community in New Jersey she used to think she was white. She told me about the first time she found out she was Puerto Rican: while filling out her college applications she marked "white" and her mother corrected her telling her darling daughter that she was, in fact, Puerto Rican.

This of course led to the whole conversation of race. Race is a social construction, but culture..that's something you can't fully shake. Acculturation and socialization really help determine who we are and how we form our identities. Although you might be influenced by your environment it's still possible to find pieces of who you are when you're least expecting it.

Our intellectual volley reminded me of a piece I wrote about my various stages of "being Puerto Rican" and how they each evolved. Although I am constantly evolving and growing, my cultural identity, which defines the largest part of me, is firmly grounded. Disfruta...

Being Puerto Rican
March 2003 ©

Puerto Rican at 5 : Rice and beans
A bottomless blue ocean
White peasant blouses
Flowing floral skirts
Blossoms nestled in hair

Puerto Rican at 10: Papi listening to Hector and Willie
Drinking coquito at Christmas
Bendiciones from Titi
Breezless Brooklyn summers
Papá playing dominoes on the stoop
Pan de agua y pastelitos
Burning brown
Menuditis

Boricua at 15: Not rolling my R’s
Thirsting for knowledge
Boasting a one starred flag
Immeasurable pride
Pietri’s obituary
Finding my experience shelved
Dancing to Jerry’s song

U.S. born Puerto Rican at 20: Visiting Spanish Harlem
Pa’lante, Siempre Pa’lante
Frequenting the Nuyorican
Colonial shame
Defending nationalism
Searching for Hector and Willie

Puertoriqueña at 25: Transcending boundaries
Defining mi comunidad
Debating statehood
Still not rolling my R’s
Accepting Nuyorican-ness
Embracing my olive skin
Going home
Everything in between