Puerto Rican Pride

I’m back!! Sorry, that muse of mine took a long ass vacation to Fiji, but it’s back, sunburned and with a sand rash. Eww.

HELLO WORLD!

I’m just going to dive right in and talk a little about what’s been on my mind lately, or since November 7th.

TRUMP.

Before you close the window because you are fed up with politics, just know that this is NOT a political post! This is just about something that has happened since Trump … so here we go.

Trump seems to not like people that are different from him (so everyone except white Americans)… this though has been on repeat on my mind… and it got me thinking…

I’m from a very small island in the Caribbean called Puerto Rico, it might be small in size but it’s mighty in culture, something I have now come to realize I always took for granted.

Puerto Rico can sometimes feel like a small town in the US, a place where everyone knows of you, or your family, so naturally (since I have this unpleasant need  in life to be like one of those small town girls in movies that have huge dreams) I left, and moved to Los Angeles. (original right?)

When I lived in Puerto Rico (1994-2012) I couldn’t wait to get out, don’t get me wrong I had an amazing childhood, the best parents in the world, a brother that I couldn’t live without, a grandpa and grandma that spoiled me rotten, amazing godparents, a Fairy Godmother (she didn’t have wings, but she drives fast like a mad woman), the most incredible friends, a loyal boyfriend, everything! But those are things that didn’t come from being from Puerto Rico, a lot of people have great childhoods all around the world. What really had me stuck was the notion that my dreams were way to big for the small island, so I needed to leave. I’ve had the dream to move to Los Angeles since I was in the first grade, sure at that time I dreamed about being Britney Spears groupie (that changed), it was then being an actress, and now it’s writing & producing television shows. But it’s always been being a part of the Entertainment Industry.

Back to Puerto Rico…

There are certain things that pertain to being Puerto Rican, some things that come with the title. Some are bad (the stereotypes) and some I didn’t know were good until I left.  Let’s get something straight before I have to hear ignorant comments, PUERTO RICO IS A PART OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA (Guam too by the way). Yes, I am white, I don’t look Puerto Rican, and yes I have a very short and hot temper. But when I don’t say I’m Puerto Rican people just assume I’m a white sassy girl from The Valley.

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how things have changed…

I used to get happy when people didn’t think I was Puerto Rican, because so many look down upon us like we are rodents, a waste of space, (something I caught on to very early on in my life) which is why when I talk I sound more like a Kardashian than Ricky Martin. When I was a teenager I would purposely not go and tan at the beach just so my skin would be fair, I wouldn’t be caught dead watching novelas (Spanish soaps) or reading a book in Spanish for that matter… and would get embarrassed when Puerto Ricans acted the way we all act in certain circumstances, like clapping once your plane lands, or go all out and cheer like hell when a Puerto Rican boxer or singer do their thing or deny the fact that I liked Spanish music or some traditional Puerto Rican dishes (Tacos are Mexican by the way) (We are not Mexican). All of this was true until I left for college, and my anti-Puerto Rican walls fell.

Five years later…and…

I can’t help and scream out “I’m Puerto Rican” when people say I’m being loud or ask if I’m from The Valley

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bang my feet and hands against everything  when Monica Puig won that Gold medal for Puerto Rico in the 2016 Rio Olympics

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sing and dance along when a Ricky Martin, JLo, Daddy Yankee, or Marc Anthony song starts playing somewhere in public

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have the biggest smile plastered on my face when Lin Manuel Miranda accepted all those Tony Awards

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and admit to the fact that my favorite actress, Lana Parrilla, is, in fact, Puerto Rican.

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Now I still don’t read in Spanish, and I hate RUM! but it actually has nothing to do with me being Puerto Rican. But now, five years later, the girl that was begging to leave her small little island, is now the first one on the plane in LAX and the first one running off when it lands back in Puerto Rico excited to finally be back home.

It’s true what people say, you need to leave home, to finally know where home is.

I’m a proud Puerto Rican, and I couldn’t be happier.

With that, I leave you!

#OrgulloBoricua

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– Queen O

P.S. I still don’t clap when a plane lands…but I smile.

2 thoughts on “Puerto Rican Pride

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