Saturday, February 21, 2009
I have never considered myself anything but American and I have had trouble in the past understanding why those who have been born in this great country consider themselves whatever it is that is in there family tree, whether that be Mexican, Cuban, Italian etc.(especially if you've never been to the said country, like when you meet someone and they say they are Mexican but have never actually been to Mexico) I've always checked the Caucasian box on applications and have never felt inclined to put Hispanic(maybe it steams from when I was little no one believed me that I was half Cuban, like a 1st grader would lie about where her mother was born. I would literally have my teachers tell me that I was wrong). But that is not to say that I don't identify at all with those that are of my same heritage. Even though I have never been to Cuba I feel a kinship with those who live there. It has always been a place that I have dreamed of visiting since I was a little girl. Maybe so I could understand a part of my mother that I've never known, I don't know.
But recently I have been reading two blogs Generation Y and Without Evasion by two women living in Cuba. They were born after the revolution and have only ever known life with Castro. This means that they've lived without the simple freedoms that we take for granted every day; free speech,freedom of religion, colored televisions the list can go on and on. The author of Without Evasion in her new post wrote about how her husband's job was threatened among other things because the government knew that she writes a blog. Can you imagine what that must be like?
I have come to deeply respect these strong women for having the self-respect to stand for what they believe in, even if that means that their husband might lose his job or that they might go to jail etc. Reading these blogs gives me hope for Cuba and the Cuban people. That one day they will win there fight for basic human rights and freedoms. Hopefully they know that they have support from those of us who have a bit of an identity crisis, who have never been to their country but love it all the same.