Raised in a culture

I was raised in the Puerto Rican/Boricua culture for the most part.  I grew up in New York City and my parents’ home was like U.S. culture did not exist. That included the food (rice & beans, platanos, etc), music (boleros, salsa, meringue), and superstitions (el cuco — the boogey man).  But there were parts of my upbringing that were not typical/customary.

My parents were not church-going people. In fact, my mother discouraged us from participating any church/religion. Although, she let me attend different religious services as a child. She believed in God, had a Bible and a picture of Jesus in the house, but adamantly said, ” Dios no está solo en un edificio.”  Meaning that God was not just in a building, but was everywhere.  She also said that the church only gave you guilt. This coming from my mother whose first name meant “Bethlehem.”  My grandfather gave religious names to all his children.

There was no bomba/plena music or anything to do with the Santeria religion.  I learned about those way after I left home.

I was taught to be respectful — treating others the way I wanted to be treated.

We had many books (encyclopedia, dictionary, fiction books, etc.),  magazines (Life, Ebony, Jet, Readers Digest) and the Daily News newspaper.  My father could barely read Spanish, let alone English! My mother had an 8th grade education that for that time was considered a lot. She learned English in Puerto Rico, but would always ask for a translator if available (or one of us kids).

We weren’t discouraged from speaking Spanish, but once we entered school, the system was not favorable to us being bilingual.  There was no ESL or accommodations made.  It was either sink or swim in English. I didn’t speak in class until about the 3rd grade.

My family at one time had parties with the relatives that lived nearby — music, food, dancing. The men would get really drunk and start fighting.  It was a mess. My mother put a stop to the parties when I was about 12.

The only person that went to Puerto Rico regularly was my older sister — mainly to keep her out of trouble!

My mother was not really friendly with the neighbors. We stayed to ourselves and lived life as best we could.

My childhood was interesting.