{"id":199773,"date":"2019-05-31T17:20:45","date_gmt":"2019-05-31T21:20:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/oncubanews.com\/en\/?p=199773"},"modified":"2019-05-31T17:20:45","modified_gmt":"2019-05-31T21:20:45","slug":"not-from-here-or-there-being-afro-cuban-american-in-hialeah","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/oncubanews.com\/en\/cuba-usa\/not-from-here-or-there-being-afro-cuban-american-in-hialeah\/","title":{"rendered":"“Not from here or there,” being Afro-Cuban-American in Hialeah"},"content":{"rendered":"

Haidee Cano was born in a place where “violet water” (a cologne that smells of violets) is put on babies since they\u2019re born and are taught to eat guava pastries or drink milk with coffee at breakfast as “part of their Cubanness”; but since she was a child she had the uncomfortable feeling of “not being from here or there,” of living trapped in a Cuban-American screenplay.<\/span><\/p>\n

The place where she was born, although it isn\u2019t in Cuba, is a “Cuban” city: Hialeah, in Florida, a space where the stereotypes of a culture are taken to their maximum expression due to the emigrants\u2019 nostalgia of the past and the present, and where being black or mulatto is like having emigrated twice: a minority within the Cuban community in the United States.<\/span><\/p>\n

At 27, Haidee has just graduated with a Master’s in Social Work at the Atlantic University of Florida, where she was named student of the year in her branch for Palm Beach County. This year she also presented a national research on undocumented Latinas who survived gender-based violence.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her field of study is mental health and she works with marginalized and low-income communities, immigrants and refugees, and prisoners, most of them coming from black families that carry the weight of centuries of oppression and racism.<\/span><\/p>\n

Haidee is interested in investigating how the arts can promote the process of healing emotional and psychological traumas or wounds and, although she now lives in West Palm Beach and will soon move to Boston, some time ago she began her own process of exploring her identity and her roots through trips to Cuba.<\/span><\/p>\n

What does it mean to you to be Cuban?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I never realized what a unique experience I had growing up in Hialeah until I moved to college in Gainesville, at the University of Florida. It was so amusing to me to have people be bewildered at how all the signs in my hometown were in Spanish, how I had mandatory Spanish classes in elementary, how most of my teachers were Cuban, along with most of my classmates.<\/span><\/p>\n

In Hialeah, I was inundated by Cuban store owners, Cuban neighbors, Cuban restaurant, Cuban everything, 24\/7. Essentially Cuba “sin la miseria” (without poverty), as my mother would say.<\/span><\/p>\n

For Hispanic Heritage Month in Kindergarten, my entire class sang \u201cYerberito Moderno\u201d and I dressed up like a rumbera. <\/span><\/p>\n

We were that Cuban. My first language was Spanish. I was in English Second Language (ESL) program until 2nd grade, more so because my mother didn\u2019t want me to lost my Spanish, as if that could ever happen in Hialeah.<\/span><\/p>\n

In Hialeah, it\u2019s a very common occurrence to witness your vecino (neighbor) sacrificing a goat in their yard. It is also usual to see same viejitos (old men) playing domino outside Sedanos. Someone once told me that Hialeah was \u201cel solar mas grande fuera de Cuba (the largest tenement house in Cuba).\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

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Haidee (the youngest) during her childhood in Hialeah with her brother Henry and a neighbor. In the background, her mom. Photo: Courtesy of the interviewee.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Being Cuban to me is having your heart skip a beat every time you hear a salsita playing on the radio; it’s calling other people “mama” and “papo”; having cari\u00f1o (being affectionate); craving pastelitos de guayaba con un cafe con leche (guava pastries with milk and coffee) in the mornings; it’s saying hi to others with a kiss on the cheek; it\u2019s keeping your home \u201cCuban clean\u201d aka absolutely spotless; it\u2019s being hospitable; it\u2019s being bold y \u201csin pena\u201d (not shy); it\u2019s having grit and resolviendo (resolving); it’s honoring the European, African and Indigenous heritage that make up our gorgeous island.<\/span><\/p>\n

I would also say that as I get older what it means to be Cuban changes the more I find out about Cuban history, meet more of my relatives, and grow more secure in my own identity.<\/span><\/p>\n

In a recent article<\/a> you mention that you are “not from here or there,” why?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Ser ni de aqui ni de alla (Not from here or there) is the struggle of being an immigrant’s child, I think. You are raised in this country that is so different from that of your parents. Yet you speak differently at home than you do with your friends; you eat other foods; you’re in between cultures all the time it feels like. It’s feeling like you’re not totally Cubana pero tampoco totalmente Americana. <\/span><\/p>\n

However when people see you in the U.S., they see Cuban, but when people see you in Cuba they see Yuma. It is also growing up with whitewashed American media that is not representative of your lived experiences. <\/span><\/p>\n