What a Shame.....

"los Nuyoricans son una verguenza para puerto rico.
Cuando estoy en el aeropuerto y veo que llega un idiota de estos con una cadenita plastica en el cuello de la banderita de puerto rico, lo que me provoca es entrarle a batazos en las costillas...."

This is just one of many comments I have come across in discussion boards, comments, etc., while on the internet. Unfortunately, this is the very thing that feeds the divisiveness between Puerto Ricans on the island and those in the U.S. As sad as this is, we will always have ignorance among us. Instead of focusing their energy on ways to promote the culture and bring all together they choose to spew ignorant remarks against their own people. We have to move beyond that ignorance and realize that we share much more than we think. Puerto Rican migration is a two way street that has been going on for generations. We are not seen as separate in the the U.S. but as one and the same.

I was born in New York of two Puerto Rican parents and their blood runs through my veins. I have as much love for Puerto Rico as those who live and were born there and probably more than some. I have made it my mission to continue to learn as much as I can about Puerto Rican culture and although I am much bigger than such negativity it still sad to read and see it. A good friend once said, " I know many Puerto Ricans, born in Puerto Rico, who are so colonized they hate being Puerto Rican " Maybe he was a little harsh or maybe not. Regardless of where you were born or where you live sometimes a little reminder doesn't hurt. Despiertan !!!....

Boricua en la luna

Desde las ondas del mar
que son besos a su orilla,
una mujer de Aguadilla
vino a New York a cantar.
Pero no, solo a llorar
un largo llanto y morir.
De ese llanto yo nací
como la lluvia una fiera.
Y vivo en larga espera
de cobrar lo que perdí.

Por un cielo que se hacía
mas feo mas más volaba
a Nueva York se acercaba
un peón de Las Marías
Con la esperanza, decía,
de un largo día volver.
Pero antes me hizo nacer
Y de tanto trabajar
se quedo sin regresar:
reventó en un taller.

De una lagrima soy hijo
y soy hijo del sudor
y fue mi abuelo el amor
único en mi regocijo
del recuerdo siempre fijo
en aquel cristal del llanto
como quimera en el canto
de un Puerto Rico de ensueño
y yo soy Puertorriqueño,
sin na, pero sin quebranto.

Y el "echón" que me desmienta
que se ande muy derecho
no sea en lo mas estrecho
de un zaguán pague la afrenta.
Pues según alguien me cuenta:
dicen que la luna es una
sea del mar o sea montuna.
Y así le grito al villano:
yo sería borincano
aunque naciera en la luna.

-Juan Antonio Corretjer




Very interesting article......
http://www.drclas.harvard.edu/revista/articles/view/1063