I felt I had a festive start for our conversation. Betsy was wearing a turquoise blouse, turquoise necklace and bracelet. “So what are your favorite colors?” I said. She got me with her surprising answer, “beige and brown.” That night Betsy sat up in bed writing down the names of the famous people who had populated her world in the 1940s through the 1970s.
Read moreSoy/Somos: Diego-Storyboard Artist from Puerto Rico
I was born and raised in Jayuya, dead center of the island. Up in the mountains. So lush, you can feel the trees breathing. My family lives on a hill, and there’s a hill above that hill. My parents still have a roof over their heads, but during Maria, a landslide washed into the house. My mother tells me of water like hot chocolate coming in from the windows…
I was eager to speak with Diego, storyboard artist and illustrator living now in New York City. What did it mean to grow up in Puerto Rico? Would he shed some light on the conditions in his homeland after the disastrous hurricane? And--not least--how do storyboard artists work?
First, I needed to get the terminology right. Puerto Rico’s relationship with the US is unique. It’s an Estado Libre Asociado, a Commonwealth of the United States. Puerto Ricans are American citizens but do not have voting representatives in Congress. Diego told me his brother is in the army, fought twice in Iraq.
So we began.
Read moreWe are more alike
Hola gente,
Tomorrow you'll be receiving from the Soy/Somos series the first half of Diego's story. Diego is a storyboard illustrator and also Puerto Rican, and while he lives in New York, his parents and family live on the island, still suffering the devastation of hurricane Maria and our government's utter failure to help.
Yesterday, "Maria Was Also a 'Real Catastrophe,'" the NYTimes' reported that "on Wednesday, the president smugly declared that 'we did a fantastic job.'" The death toll resulting from the hurricane is now estimated at 2,975, the Times reported, and "it is essential for Americans on the mainland to appreciate that their fellow Americans in the Caribbean have suffered a life-altering catastrophe greater than Hurricanes Katrina or Harvey and require the same outpouring of help and sympathy as New Orleans or Houston. This is a time to open hearts and wallets."
This weekend, while playing in NYC, Donald and I came across a gallery on Ninth Avenue featuring the #StrangersProject, displaying some 200 single-page, handwritten stories written by people from all walks of life. The 8x11 pieces of paper where hanging on clotheslines around the room. We stopped to read; we spoke with the creator, who has collected more than 40,000 stories. "What is it like being you?" It's a phenomenon! See STRANGERSPROJECT.COM. People's stories, all ages and backgrounds, were stunningly similar. They felt lonely, loved someone, lost someone, longed for someone or something, were afraid, felt they didn't count. Ordinary, essential things that all of us feel. We are so much more alike than different. This is what I mean to convey in my conversations with Hispanics/Latinos/Latinx, in the Soy/Somos series.
Make the time for Diego's story tomorrow. He's an artist and very interesting human.