Boricua Diaspora

The Puerto Rican Diaspora, Identity, and Resilience Explored Through Art

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Puerto Rico & The United States: The Diaspora, Identity, and Resilience Explored Through Art

The relationship with America and Puerto Rico has always been a contentious one. Ongoing colonization and power struggles have left Puerto Rico as neither a U.S. state or a sovereign nation, but as property of the United States. 

The culmination of hundreds of years of colonization has resulted in a major identity crisis amongst Puerto Ricans.

Throughout the 20th and 21st centuries, the Puerto Ricans in New York and Puerto Rico, have responded to this through art. By way of painting, installations, music, and prose - Puerto Rican artists have expressed their struggles with identity and belonging, as well as showcasing their immense pride in their roots, their heritage, culture, and language. 

There is resilience and community within these works. Calls to action. And we have responded. Through creation and collaboration, we bring light to the darkness and power back to the people. 

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PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE.

Pedro Pietri

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Images from Adál’s series “Puerto Ricans Underwater”, 2017. 

(From left to right) Muerto Rico, Dorianne Gray, and Jeannette Betancourt.

You can read more about this series at Remezcla.  

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Rita Moreno for ADÁL’s book “Portraits of the Puerto Rican Experience” (1984).

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Adál Maldonado created the physical items as a part of the El Puerto Rican Embassy project. They are meant to serve as artifacts to the depicted Puerto Rican society. Amongst them are currency, a map, a passport, and various artworks. 

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El Spanglish National Anthem performed by Rev. Pedro Pietri

Unfilmed by ADÁL, 2002. 

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El Spanglish National Anthem

En my Viejo San Juan
 They raise the price of pan
 So I fly to Manhattan.
 It was there that I swear 
Everyone took welfare 
Especially the Latins! To El Barrio I went 
In pursuit of low rent 
In a five room apartment
 Where by neighbors will be 
Puerto Ricans like me 
Dressed in tropical garments. I know
 I know, I know
 I’ll miss Puerto Rico 
(Land of de Palm trees) 
And so,
 And so and so 
I’ll live in El Barrio’s
 (Latin Community) And whennnnn 
I hit the numbers 
I’ll return to San Juan 
Afford the price of pan 
Until my life is done 
(Island blessed by the sun 
Here I come Here I come 
Donde my roots are from) Many years came and went 
Fell behind on my rent 
Cursed Christopher Columbus.
 Worked as hard as I could 
But my luck was no good 
Never once hit the numbers Now every day I pray
 Before passing away 
And going six foot under 
That again I will see
 People who look like me
 In my island of wonders.

Asi es how it must be 
For the whole family 
Dice our destineeeee!
 De weather wasn’t nice
 Comfort cost a high price 
Unlike in Puerto Rico 
We kept cooking the rice 
And re-heating the beans 
And making cuchifrito. De hard times were plenty 
De pockets stayed empty 
But the soul nunca dyyyyyed 
And junto we survived 
And danced after we cried
 Defending nuestro pride. I know
 I know I know 
Next stop’s Puerto Rico 
(So help me OTB 
And so 
And so And so 
I won’t be called Chico 
By the Statue of Liberty)Y thennnnn Con familia and friends
 Good times will never end 
Learn how to laugh again
 And stop sheeteen on ten
 (Once in my country 
I will be I will be 
Who has always been me) In Spanish there were bills 
In English there were bills
 That just kept getting bigger. 
Categorized as hicks
 We were called dirty spicks 
Blanco trash and black niggers Las botanicas saved 
Us from an early grave 
All aspirin did wass kill joo!

In Borinquen we’ll be 
Enjoying our history
 For mucho centuries 
We registered to vote 
Thinking that there was hope 
In elected officials.
 Pero as soon as they win 
For a moment they grin 
Then they drop all the issues. Many dropped out of school
 Others went to college
 Trying hard to get somewhere.
 In the land of da free
 Where without a degree
 You cannot collect welfare. I know
I know I know 
I’ll always play dominoes 
(Wherever I may be)
 And go 
And go And go 
To local bodegas
 (For Bustelo coffee)Be- cosssss
I’m still in Puerto Rico
 Only my body came
 My strong spirit remains 
Everything’s still de same 
(I truly do believe
 You can leave and still be 
Where Mami met Papi) Some did assimilate
 In de United States
 They got rid of de accent
 Tho whenever they spoke
 That will always unmask them! But de majority 
Kept their identity 
Never did lose their accent!
 They were proud not ashamed 
Of their Boricua names 
If you don’t believe ask them. I know 
I know I know 
I am being followed 
(By my destiny)B 
And so 
And so And so 
I will never be swallowed 
(By inferiority)
 And whennnnn 
De plane takes off again
 I know that there will be 
No return trips for me 
Back to New York City
 (Island blessed by the sun
 Here I come Here I come 
Donde my roots are from) And with my family 
We’ll struggle and believe 
That one day we’ll be free. Reverendo Pedro Pietri, 1994
Poet in Residence/Co-Director
 El Puerto Rican Embassy

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El Puerto Rico Embassy by Adál Maldonado & Pedro Pietri 

https://elpuertoricanembassy.msa-x.org/index.html

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ADÁL (1948-2020)

Adál Maldonado was born in Utuado, Puerto Rico in 1948. At 13 years old he would move to Trenton, New Jersey and then the Bronx a few years later. He would remain there until 2010, when he would return to the island until his death in 2020. 

Although he would be considered a multidisciplinary artist, he first learned photography. While living in New Jersey, he and his family lived above a portrait studio where the portrait photographer taught Adál how to process film and print photographs. He would carry this on, teaching other photographers too. (Robert Mapplethorpe would be among his ‘students’.)

Adál continued his education in the Bronx, studying photography at the Art Center College of Design in Southern California and then at the San Francisco Art Institute. In 1975, he returned to New York and helped launch Foto Gallery in Soho.  

“I was raised to feel that I had many different dimensions that I could choose from.”

Like many Puerto Ricans, Adál felt out of place, caught in between the States and his homeland. This is why his art focused on Puerto Rican identity and its fluidity. The result was a satirical but serious, politically charged body of work that was exhibited internationally at institutes like, the Museum of Modern Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Museo del Barrio, and the Musee d’Art Modern de la Ville de Paris. 

Among his most well known works is his book, “Portraits of the Puerto Rican Experience” (1984), which features 100 portraits of Puerto Ricans important in American popular culture and history. The New York City public school system used these photographs as a part of their social studies curriculum. 

Another famous work is a satirical piece he did with Pedro Pietri (a poet of the Nuyorican Movement who went by Rev. Pedro Pietro for this project). “El Puerto Rican Embassy” was a collaborative project created in 1994 that combined poetry, images, song, and objects - imagining an independent Puerto Rico no longer under the control of the States. 

One of Adál’s last projects before his death from cancer, was a series titled “Puerto Ricans Underwater” which was meant to represent the island’s $78 billion debt they were drowning in after Hurricane Maria. Most of these models were strangers he found online who would pose in the artist’s bathtub under water, provoking a sense of helplessness. 

Adál Maldonado remains one of the most influential Puerto Rican artists of the 20th century. His greatest accomplishment has been shining a light on Puerto Rican identity as well as political issues specific to this Latin people group. 

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Erika P. Rodriguez: The Oldest Colony

Erika is a documentary photographer from San Juan, Puerto Rico.

For about seven years, she has covered a wide array of subjects and themes, such as the economic crisis, the aftermath of hurricanes and major storms, and portraits. Growing up in Puerto Rico, a place that is split between Latin American culture and a territory of the United States, has greatly influenced her work. On her website she says: “My work focuses on countering the Caribbean tropical visual stereotype, meditates on the fragility of the island’s collective memory, and seeks to grab the implicit tension in daily life as a result of our political identity.”  

In her on-going series, The Oldest Colony, she shares the self-identity crisis of Puerto Rico and its perpetual political limbo brought on by 500+ years of colonization. She captures this through photographs of everyday life on the island. It’s in the details of the mundane that one can see the affect America’s control over Puerto Rico has had on its inhabitants whether it be the political instability, poverty, or the aftermath of Hurricane Maria. Pride and pain are on full display

Erika P. Rodriguez has been published in The New York Times, The Guardian, NPR, and more. You can view her work on her website and follow her on Instagram. 

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Don't let the hand you hold, hold you down.

Julia de Burgos

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Tato Laviera (1951-2013)

Tato Laviera was a Nuyorican poet and playwright and part of the Nuyorican Movement. Though born in Santurce, Puerto Rico, he moved to the Lower East Side of New York City with his family at ten years old. 

He began writing poems very young in multiple languages - Spanish, English, and Spanglish. He is well known for his excellent articulation in all three languages, as well as his use of metaphor and rhythm. In a 2012 interview, he “discussed the role linguistic innovation plays in his work, stating, ‘Puerto Rico in particular intertwines Caribbean Black Spanish. We dare to claim it. It is a source of pride and we are not linguistically crippled. My claim to fame is I can experiment, and sound intelligent with my linguistic experiments.’”

His poems addressed themes such as language, cultural identity, and race, particularly in relation to the transnational identities of Puerto Ricans living in the United States. All aspects of his writing were intentional and aided him in his mission to lift up fellow Latinos, particularly Afro-Latinos, with pride and dignity. This sense of Puerto Rican pride and its split sense of identity is seen as a positive in his poem “AmeRícan”. According to Laviera, the importance of his poems are found in the titles. The title of this poem is what he is calling Puerto Ricans living in America. He is choosing to depict this transnational identity which can be jarring and isolating, as something positive and beautiful. 

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AmeRícan by Tato Laviera

we gave birth to a new generation, AmeRícan, broader than lost gold never touched, hidden inside the puerto rican mountains. we gave birth to a new generation AmeRícan, it includes everything imaginable you-name-it-we-got-it society. we gave birth to a new generation, AmeRícan salutes all folklores, european, indian, black, spanish and anything else compatible: AmeRícan,       singing to composer pedro flores' palm                           trees up high in the universal sky! AmeRícan,       sweet soft spanish danzas gypsies                           moving lyrics la española cascabelling                           presence always singing at our side! AmeRícan,       beating jíbaro modern troubadours                           crying guitars romantic continental                           bolero love songs! AmeRícan,       across forth and across back                           back across and forth back                           forth across and back and forth                           our trips are walking bridges!                           it all dissolved into itself, an attempt                           was truly made, the attempt was truly                           absorbed, digested, we spit out                           the poison, we spit out in malice,                           we stand, affirmative in action,                           to reproduce a broader answer to the                           marginality that gobbled us up abruptly! AmeRícan,       walking plena-rhythms in new york,                           strutting beautifully alert, alive                           many turning eyes wondering,                           admiring! AmeRícan,       defining myself my own way any way many                           many ways Am e Rícan, with the big R and the                           accent on the í! AmeRícan,       like the soul gliding talk of gospel                           boogie music! AmeRícan,       speaking new words in spanglish tenements,                           fast tongue moving street corner "que                           corta" talk being invented at the insistence                           of a smile! AmeRícan,       abounding inside so many ethnic english                           people, and out of humanity, we blend                           and mix all that is good! AmeRícan,       integrating in new york and defining our                           own destino, our own way of life, AmeRícan,       defining the new america, humane america,                           admired america, loved america, harmonious                           america, the world in peace, our energies                           collectively invested to find other civili-                           zations, to touch God, further and further,                           to dwell in the spirit of divinity! AmeRícan,       yes, for now, for i love this, my second                           land, and i dream to take the accent from                           the altercation, and be proud to call                           myself american, in the u.s. sense of the                           word, AmeRícan, America!

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Pedro Pietri (1994-2004)

Pedro Pietri was a Nuyorican poet and playwright and one of the co-founders of the Nuyorican Movement and the Nuyorican Poets Café.  

Although born in Puerto Rico, he moved to New York City with his family when he was just three years old. Pietri started writing poetry in high school. His love for poetry was inspired by his aunt who recited poetry and put on plays at a church in El Barrio. Upon graduating, Pietri was drafted into the Army to fight in the Vietnam War. After serving in the Army, he would return home and join the Puerto Rican Civil Rights group - the Young Lords. 

His experiences as a Puerto Rican man in the Army and Vietnam, as well as growing up in New York City, would be the basis for his poetry and personality as an artist. 

“Puerto Rican Obituary” would be his most renowned work. It depicted the lives of five Puerto Ricans who came to the States with dreams that would not come to pass. What also comes across is a strong sense of pride in being Puerto Rican, and the resilient spirit that comes with that identity.  

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Puerto Rican Obituary by Pedro Pietri

They worked They were always on time They were never late They never spoke back when they were insulted They worked They never took days off that were not on the calendar They never went on strike without permission They worked ten days a week and were only paid for five They worked They worked They worked and they died They died broke They died owing They died never knowing what the front entrance of the first national city bank looks like Juan Miguel Milagros Olga Manuel All died yesterday today and will die again tomorrow passing their bill collectors on to the next of kin All died waiting for the garden of eden to open up again under a new management All died dreaming about america waking them up in the middle of the night screaming: Mira Mira your name is on the winning lottery ticket for one hundred thousand dollars All died hating the grocery stores that sold them make-believe steak and bullet-proof rice and beans All died waiting dreaming and hating Dead Puerto Ricans Who never knew they were Puerto Ricans Who never took a coffee break from the ten commandments to KILL KILL KILL the landlords of their cracked skulls and communicate with their latino souls Juan Miguel Milagros Olga Manuel From the nervous breakdown streets where the mice live like millionaires and the people do not live at all are dead and were never alive Juan died waiting for his number to hit Miguel died waiting for the welfare check to come and go and come again Milagros died waiting for her ten children to grow up and work so she could quit working Olga died waiting for a five dollar raise Manuel died waiting for his supervisor to drop dead so he could get a promotion Is a long ride from Spanish Harlem to long island cemetery where they were buried First the train and then the bus and the cold cuts for lunch and the flowers that will be stolen when visiting hours are over Is very expensive Is very expensive But they understand Their parents understood Is a long non-profit ride from Spanish Harlem to long island cemetery Juan Miguel Milagros Olga Manuel All died yesterday today and will die again tomorrow Dreaming Dreaming about queens Clean-cut lily-white neighborhood Puerto Ricanless scene Thirty-thousand-dollar home The first spics on the block Proud to belong to a community of gringos who want them lynched Proud to be a long distance away from the sacred phrase: Que Pasa These dreams These empty dreams from the make-believe bedrooms their parents left them are the after-effects of television programs about the ideal white american family with black maids and latino janitors who are well train— to make everyone and their bill collectors laugh at them and the people they represent Juan died dreaming about a new car Miguel died dreaming about new anti-poverty programs Milagros died dreaming about a trip to Puerto Rico Olga died dreaming about real jewelry Manuel died dreaming about the irish sweepstakes They all died like a hero sandwich dies in the garment district at twelve o’clock in the afternoon social security number to ashes union dues to dust They knew they were born to weep and keep the morticians employed as long as they pledge allegiance to the flag that wants them destroyed They saw their names listed in the telephone directory of destruction They were train to turn the other cheek by newspapers that mispelled mispronounced and misunderstood their names and celebrated when death came and stole their final laundry ticket They were born dead and they died dead Is time to visit sister lopez again the number one healer and fortune card dealer in Spanish Harlem She can communicate with your late relatives for a reasonable fee Good news is guaranteed Rise Table Rise Table death is not dumb and disable— Those who love you want to know the correct number to play Let them know this right away Rise Table Rise Table death is not dumb and disable Now that your problems are over and the world is off your shoulders help those who you left behind find financial peace of mind Rise Table Rise Table death is not dumb and disable If the right number we hit all our problems will split and we will visit your grave on every legal holiday Those who love you want to know the correct number to play let them know this right away We know your spirit is able Death is not dumb and disable RISE TABLE RISE TABLE Juan Miguel Milagros Olga Manuel All died yesterday today and will die again tomorrow Hating fighting and stealing broken windows from each other Practicing a religion without a roof The old testament The new testament according to me gospel of the internal revenue the judge and jury and executioner protector and eternal bill collector Secondhand shit for sale learn how to say Como Esta Usted and you will make a fortune They are dead They are dead and will not return from the dead until they stop neglecting the art of their dialogue— for broken english lessons to impress the mister goldsteins— who keep them employed as lavaplatos porters messenger boys factory workers maids stock clerks shipping clerks assistant mailroom assistant, assistant assistant to the assistant’s assistant assistant lavaplatos and automatic artificial smiling doormen for the lowest wages of the ages and rages when you demand a raise because is against the company policy to promote SPICS SPICS SPICS Juan died hating Miguel because Miguel’s used car was in better running condition than his used car Miguel died hating Milagros because Milagros had a color television set and he could not afford one yet Milagros died hating Olga because Olga made five dollars more on the same job Olga died hating Manuel because Manuel had hit the numbers more times than she had hit the numbers Manuel died hating all of them Juan Miguel Milagros and Olga because they all spoke broken english more fluently than he did And now they are together in the main lobby of the void Addicted to silence Off limits to the wind Confine to worm supremacy in long island cemetery This is the groovy hereafter the protestant collection box was talking so loud and proud about Here lies Juan Here lies Miguel Here lies Milagros Here lies Olga Here lies Manuel who died yesterday today and will die again tomorrow Always broke Always owing Never knowing that they are beautiful people Never knowing the geography of their complexion PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE If only they had turned off the television and tune into their own imaginations If only they had used the white supremacy bibles for toilet paper purpose and make their latino souls the only religion of their race If only they had return to the definition of the sun after the first mental snowstorm on the summer of their senses If only they had kept their eyes open at the funeral of their fellow employees who came to this country to make a fortune and were buried without underwears Juan Miguel Milagros Olga Manuel will right now be doing their own thing where beautiful people sing and dance and work together where the wind is a stranger to miserable weather conditions where you do not need a dictionary to communicate with your people Aqui Se Habla Espanol all the time Aqui you salute your flag first Aqui there are no dial soap commercials Aqui everybody smells good Aqui tv dinners do not have a future Aqui the men and women admire desire and never get tired of each other Aqui Que Pasa Power is what’s happening Aqui to be called negrito means to be called LOVE

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Julia de Burgos, Carlos Irizarry (1981), oil on canvas.

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Julia de Burgos (1914-1953)

Julia de Burgos was born in Carolina, Puerto Rico and worked as a teacher before moving to New York, where she would become a journalist. She is however, most well-known for her poetry that focused on feminist and social justice themes. She was a major advocate for the empowerment of women and Afro-Latin writers. 

In her poem “Yo MIsma Fui Mi Ruta (I Was My Own Route)”, de Burgos portrays the oppression of gender roles and the expectations placed on women by a patriarchal society. At first, the protagonist is playing into these expectations, wanting to be an object of desire, but then she goes against them. She is seeing her own way, her own identity. 

I wanted to be like men wanted me to be: an attempt at life; a game of hide and seek with my being. But I was made of nows, and my feet level on the promissory earth would not accept walking backwards and went forward, forward, mocking the ashes to reach the kiss of new paths. At each advancing step on my route forward my back was ripped by the desperate flapping wings of the old guard. But the branch was unpinned forever, and at each new whiplash my look separated more and more and more from the distant familiar horizons; and my face took the expansion that came from within, the defined expression that hinted at a feeling of intimate liberation; a feeling that surged from the balance between my life and the truth of the kiss of the new paths. Already my course now set in the present, I felt myself a blossom of all the soils of the earth, of the soils without history, of the soils without a future, of the soil always soil without edges of all the men and all the epochs. And I was all in me as was life in me... I wanted to be like men wanted me to be: an attempt at life; a game of hide and seek with my being. But I was made of nows; when the heralds announced me at the regal parade of the old guard, the desire to follow men warped in me, and the homage was left waiting for me.

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Willie Colón & Hector Lavoe (1960′s - 70s)

Willie Colón and Hector Lavoe are two of the most famous salsa artists to have changed the game entirely. 

Colón was born in the Bronx and was signed to Fania Records at 15 years old. He is most famously known for his trombone playing and the masterful way he uses music to make the connection between the diaspora and the homeland of Puerto Rico, by incorporating the rhythms and sounds of music from the African descendants in the Caribbean. 

Lavoe was born in Puerto Rico and came from a family of musicians. He always had an incredible voice and always dreamed of being a singer. He would hone his talent and skill while growing up on the island through intensive schooling. In 1963, at 17 years old, he decided to drop out of school and move to New York. He would fall into the salsa scene in New York, seemingly by accident,  singing for multiple salsa groups in the city. A few years later in 1967, he would meet Colón and would start working with him. 

Colón and Lavoe were the start of something new for salsa music. Fania Records, the label they were a part of, was also putting out some of the best salsa bands and singers of all time. The label would put together The Fania All-Stars in 1968; a musical group meant to showcase the talent of Fania Records. Colón and Lavoe were a part of this impressive lineup that included the likes of Rubén Blades, Johnny Pacheco, Celia Cruz, Papo Lucca, and more. 

You can watch Hector Lavoe lead The Fania All-Stars band in Africa in 1974, with the song ‘Mi Gente’. This song is a declaration of love and empowerment for his people. The band supports him, singing the refrain: “Que cante mi gente.”

In a 1992 interview, Colón talks about his relationship with Lavoe and how they changed salsa:

“Salsa came from the same kind of situation that rap does. It was kind of a hybrid of a bunch of different elements. Hector had just come from Puerto Rico and didn’t speak English. I didn’t speak much Spanish, I was a little New York kid. We got together and just started with the same kind of irreverent, rebellious attitude, writing songs about the baddest guy on the block, drugs, and sex. Before that, the lyrics and whole attitude of Latin music was, ‘Look at me dance, listen to those drums, I’m cutting sugar cane.’ It was a rural, folkloric emphasis; we changed it to an inner-city kind of culture.”