Love in the time of Corona

This year my husband and I celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary. We stayed indoors and he made us a lovely dinner.

Afterwards we danced to our wedding song, Stevie Wonder's "Ribbon in the Sky". We danced right next to our dining room table while Dad's show played in the living room/his room, probably something from Fox News, I can't remember now. I mostly tune that stuff out, especially during those moments. We didn't go out dancing like I had wanted to, but we dressed up for it just the same.

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Nuevayorkinos hasn't posted my pics and story yet. I wrote so much (for an Instagram post) that I was almost going to give them permission to edit it as much as they wanted, but then decided against it. They can if they want to of course, but I'm curious to see if they would either post the whole thing or ask me themselves if they could. Or simply let me know they would do that or would they just go ahead and cut it themselves.

At first I only submitted the first pic. Then they wrote back telling me how beautifully written this was but that if I could send two more photos so that they could fit in all the writing. They also specified it to be in one of the 5 boroughs since the first one I sent is either my family on their way to Bear Mountain (upstate) or there already.

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1. Summer of '52, on their way to Bear Mountain. On the left is my Grandma Lillian sitting behind her little brother Johnny. To her right is her sister Titi Alice with her husband Uncle Pete. On his lap is their baby girl, Lily Ann. Next to them is my great grandmother Maria (my grandmother's mother) who is next to my Grandpa Elmo on the right with my father Linky on his lap. 

Soonafter Puerto Ricans obtained U.S. citizenship in 1917, all 4 of my paternal great grandparents came to New York- Spanish Harlem and then the South Bronx. My grandfather's family was from Arecibo and Vega Baja (the north) and my grandmother's family was from Ponce (in the south). 

Those 2 families, the Astors and the del Valles, would've been miles away from each other (Arecibo- Ponce about 45 miles apart and Vega Baja- Ponce about 75) but in New York they were just city blocks away. If they remained in Puerto Rico my grandparents probably wouldn't have met! So I owe a lot of my existence to New York City and the diaspora. 

When my great grandparents came here, they felt very lost not knowing the language and so became determined to learn English and to teach their neighbors as much as they could. They held lessons in their kitchen. Their children and children's children were English dominant and assimilated a little easier, but not always easier. My grandfather for example, would get beaten up by different ethnicities depending on which blocks in Spanish Harlem he was crossing. 

My grandparents were bilingual and very immersed in American/NYC culture- Dancing at the Palladium and the Copacabana, skipping school to see Sinatra sing at the Paramount, Orchard Beach and 4th of July cookouts in the summer. They didn't teach their children Spanish, they instead kept it amongst themselves as the "adult" language so that they were able to discuss things they didn't want their kids to understand. Spanglish permeated the household though and so they grew up with a rough understanding of Spanish though never 💯 fluency. Also they grew up with both U.S. and Puerto Rican cuisine.

Nowadays it's more encouraged and easier to pass on and preserve more of the home country's language and culture (which I agree is the right thing to do) but back then it wasn't as easy to do, and the pressure to assimilate was greater in some ways. 

Grandpa served in the navy and later got a job with Rapid Electric, Inc. In 1970, the company left New York and moved to Puerto Rico and Connecticut (maybe other places too). When that happened, he had to decide where he was going to move his family. He chose Connecticut. 

They left the Bronx just when things were getting worse in terms of crime, poverty, and the horrible arsons that occurred and severely harmed these communities.

New Milford, Connecticut was very different from The Bronx, in ways both good and bad. They contended with culture shock, prejudice, change of lifestyle, homesickness, the distance from their NY family and friends, everything. 

My father didn't move with them though. He was 19 and stayed in the Bronx, rooming with a Jewish friend and his family. Eventually he met and married my Dominican York mother. 

She's got her own backstory of course, and I've got many pictures of that too. But this one picture I sent reminds me of all those things. I've got deep Nuyorican roots that stretch over decades, pretty much the whole century. I love that this page exists and that we can all look at each other's photos and learn the stories behind them. Thank you for giving us that platform 🇵🇷🇩🇴🗽❤

2. Just for the sake of time, place and names, I'll just add that the first pic is in the Bronx (but I don't know where) and it's 1951, from top left, Duke Garcia, Tony San Martin, Robert del Valle, Tito Jimenez, Frankie Ramos, Manuel (Wito) Astor, Lefty, my Grandpa Elmo, my dad baby Linky on his lap, Bobby Arvelo, and Steve del Valle.

3. The second pic is in Queens, I'm guessing '82 or '83 with me looking at my Grandma Lillian and Tita, my grandfather's mother, on the right. Elmhurst, Queens.

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