Apertures of In-Betweeness, of Selves in the Middle

Abstract

Thirsty to have contact with the Latino community in the West side of Cleveland, I headed to the Puerto Rican Festival, accompanied by my camera and a great desire to find out more about the Latinos who live in “the other side” of Cleveland. As I walked through the crowd, I was amazed—it was the first time I attended this festival since moving to Cleveland, and the first time I saw so many Latinos in the streets walking toward the festival, waving flags of Puerto Rico, people driving cars covered with Puerto Rican flags and honking incessantly. Immediately, I felt a tinge of sadness. I thought about how much they miss their island and how much I miss my country of origin, Nicaragua. At the same time, I was happy to see that they had a day to make a park and some of the streets of the West side of Cleveland their own. But I also wondered: How long has it been since they have been on the island? Do their children know the island? What view of Puerto Rico do they have—the Puerto Rico that they left or the Puerto Rico that is now? And such patriotism!

This is her home this thin edge of barbwire. But the skin of the earth is seamless. The sea cannot be fenced, el mar does not stop at borders.

—Gloria Anzaldúa