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amer-ainu · 4 years

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Joaqlin Estus Indian Country Today

On Nov. 3, Todd Gloria, Tlingit, aged 42, was elected mayor of San Diego, the nation’s 8th largest and California’s second-largest city.

Gloria is the first openly gay and the first person of color to be elected as San Diego’s mayor, as well as “the first Native American and Filipino-American mayor elected in a US city of over a million people…” according to the Los Angeles Times.

He was born in San Diego. In a 2009 interview he said he’s Native American, Filipino and “a little bit of Dutch and Puerto Rican.” In 2018, representatives of the 30,000 citizens of the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida Indian Tribes of Alaska, which has headquarters in Juneau, Alaska, adopted a resolution honoring Gloria for his leadership.

His Tlingit ancestors are from Klukwan and Haines, Alaska. His grandfather, Louis J. Gloria, of Juneau then El Centro, California, served on the board of the Alaska Native corporation for southeast Alaska, Sealaska, from 1979 to 1988, when the for-profit company went from being in the red to having assets in the tens of millions of dollars.

Gloria told reporter Christy Scannell of San Diego Uptown News his background is, “a classic San Diego story in the sense that all four of my grandparents came from different parts of the world because of the Navy and the military – so from Juneau, Alaska; Tulsa, Okla.; San Juan, Puerto Rico; and Manila. My grandfathers were in the service. My paternal grandmother came here because her father was in the service. My maternal grandmother came here to work in the factories. And they just all stayed.”

Todd Gloria, a Democrat, said his lifelong career in public service was inspired by his parents, who worked as a maid and gardener in his youth. His father went on to a career in aeronautics.

When asked how his ethnicity shapes him, Gloria said, “I think certainly being part Native American and being very sensitive to issues of sovereignty and things of that nature is probably something that someone else wouldn’t necessarily bring to the table. And a real understanding, because I think unfortunately for Native Americans the understanding of them is fairly superficial and unfortunately cartoonish. The depth of that is far more complex.”

He said he’s helped educate others that some tribes have gaming but also there’s significant poverty. “My tribe does not game and so that presents some fiscal realities for us that are not common with a lot of San Diegans’ experiences.”

Gloria also has written, voted for, and supported legislation recognizing the right of Native Americans to wear cultural and traditional regalia at graduation ceremonies, and repatriation of artifacts. He served on the state Assembly’s Native American Affairs committee. And he’s brought Native Americans forward for recognition.

In September, the state Assembly adopted a bill by Gloria that would end the Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s practice of accessing gas and electric customer utility data to facilitate deportations. He’s also the author of legislation that strengthens protections for victims of domestic violence.

He said he’s also been embraced by the Filipino community.

David Garrick, of the San Diego Herald Tribune, wrote, “Openly gay, he will be the first mayor of color and arguably the city’s most powerful leader.” Garrick said Gloria’s power is due to the city having switched to a strong-mayor style of governance in 2005, and because, unlike most other mayors since then, the majority of city council seats are held by members of his own party, which bodes well for his initiatives.

“Further increasing his power, Gloria will be the first mayor in modern history to simultaneously have strong backing from the business community and organized labor, two groups who are often at odds,” Garrick noted. Police, firemen’s, and public employee unions endorsed Gloria, as well as a regional labor council, the county Democratic party, and the regional chamber of commerce, which usually backs Republicans.

According to a speech Gloria made after the election, he’ll use that greater influence to fulfill his vision of making San Diego one of the nation’s greatest cities. Throughout his career, Gloria has worked on housing, racial justice and climate, issues that he’ll continue to work to address. He’s worked to increase access for treatment of AIDS. He’s called for more affordable housing and less use of law enforcement to handle homelessness.

Gloria said the city is facing unprecedented challenges: a continued worsening public health crisis, an economic crisis due to the necessary response to the pandemic, and a housing and homelessness crisis, as well as, “A social reckoning rooted in a sense that is in systemic racism that has been long ignored in this country, but has been awakened by the murders of George Floyd, Briana Taylor, Ahmad, Aubrey, and Ray, Milton, and far too many others to list this evening.”

When President Donald Trump came to San Diego, Gloria said “Instead of using this as an opportunity to advance his divisive and racist border wall, I wish that he were coming to our community instead to look at issues that we need addressing, specifically our needs around trade and our region that help grow jobs. And of course our ongoing cross-border pollution problems…”

In another talk he said, “the true emergency facing our state, our nation and our world is climate change. And don't let anyone tell you anything different. Climate change will lead to more heat-related deaths, smaller crop yields, more people in poverty and slowing economic growth. It's the world's most vulnerable communities that will be hit first and worst because of its impacts.” He was urging Congressional action for a “green new deal.”

"...When members of Congress convene in Washington, it will be clear where California stands. We stand on the right side of history. We stand opposed to climate change. We stand up for science and we stand out for making sure that we continue to have a planet that we may live on.”

Gloria was elected to the city council in 2008 and served as council president from 2012 to 2014. He was interim mayor in 2013.

He’s proud of his role in turning around the city’s fiscal crisis, “I served as the city's budget chair for six of eight years that I was at city hall. We were able to take the city from massive budget deficits resulting from the great recession, and turn them into surpluses and reserves that thankfully will help mitigate some of the cuts that will be necessary going forward.”

Gloria was minority whip in the California State Assembly, the state’s legislative body. When he was first elected, he was the Assembly’s only enrolled tribal member and just its second Filipino-American legislator. Reporter Garrick noted Gloria is the first mayor since 1971with experience serving in the state Assembly.

Before that, Gloria was district director for a California U.S. Representative to Congress. He also worked for San Diego County's Health and Human Services Agency. He earned a Bachelor’s in history from University of California.

Joaqlin Estus, Tlingit, is a national correspondent for Indian Country Today, and a long-time Alaska journalist.

Indian Country Today is a nonprofit news organization. Will you support our work? All of our content is free. There are no subscriptions or costs. And we have hired more Native journalists in the past year than any news organization ─ and with your help we will continue to grow and create career paths for our people. Support Indian Country Today for as little as $10.

#Indian Country Today #Joaqlin Estus #Todd Gloria #Tlingit #Filipino #Kumeyaay #Yuman #Turtle Island #BIIPOC #LGBTQ #San Diego #California #gay

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tsavo-witch · 4 years

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No one asked but: My thoughts on Ancestor Veneration

I appreciate this practice and find it beautiful, but so far cannot apply it to my practice. When I ponder my ancestors in the vein of ancestor veneration things get funky.

On the Maternal side it *seems* pretty straightforward overall. Aunt J did the family research that sparked the cross-country RV trip when I was a child. She traced us back to John Plantagenet (Not Robin Hood like the last name implied...and John had sooooo many children) which means I am related to Elenore of Aquitaine and Joanna from Here be Dragons.

On the Paternal side things are NOT. Grandma J can probably trace her side back for generations but is very closed mouth about information. Grandpa W is a 1-way street. He is here now and will share childhood stories...that is it. Then there’s the man (Mr. Flores is the name I am aware of) who I have pictures of from Grandma J. Mom said that Dad tried to find some information on him in Spain, but no info was discovered. If I asked grandma what his name was, she would likely tell me...but the info seems like it would cause her paid and I don’t know this person. Grandpa is my grandfather. This other man is just...bio-matter donor to me personally (Not in a bad way).

Now while the Maternal side has (or has been forthcoming) the information, I learned recently from mom that both Grandma D and Grandpa D both fled abusive families when they left Kansas. Grandpa W fled Jamaica during times of unrest (I’ve not pressed for details based on how ppl reacted while telling). That’s ¾ of my most immediate family cutting ties with their families and traditions.

Grandma D came from a German family

Grandpa D came from an... English line (Fun family tidbit about us being “Irish”)

Grandma J is more of a mutt, general western Europe (But it’s her the Native American came from, there’s a family story about someone who married a Blackfoot woman)

Grandpa W is Jamaican

Mr. Flores is Spanish (From Spain Spanish)

This both helps me and doesn’t help at all. I do not consider it appropriate for me (white, not raised culturally as anything but Protestant Christian) to practice traditions like root work or voodoo/Vodun. I myself am still vehemently against practicing magics related to Christ, the Christian God and/or Catholic practices due to personal preference. That leaves me with German and English craft heritages to draw from...and I’m less than inspired by either for the base of my practice.

I want a local practice; I want to use what is around me first rather than just buy supplies. The eclectic path called to me when I first started practicing, Pinterest introduced me to the title.. Learning about the facets of witchcraft, learning why one group does things the way they do, how they preform their ritual, what goes into their special recipes is fascinating for me. When I find a practice that calls to me (When I first started I did not know/understand much about cultural appropriation and closed cultures & religions, as such I’ve had to stop using some traditions and instead find or create others to use moving forward) I would research it, see why it was done (or item used in a particular way) and, if it still calls to me, I will then adapt it to fit my practice. This is how I got to call myself an eclectic (I still don’t like witch as the term for myself...but I don’t have a better one. It is accurate, but I don’t resonate with it fully.). I don’t love the term; I understand the issue with it...but am not sure where else to go noun wise.

This is an ancestor related ramble, so let’s get back to them. I don’t have any “well known” or famous relatives closer than the 1200’s. Family stories go back to my grandparents and STOP. I know more about the nuns that taught Grandma J’s school in Puerto Rico than I do about her parents. TBH Sister Mary-Doberman is more real to me than my own great-grandmother who gave Sister Mary the nickname. Grandma D’s family name is Buttermore (Buttermoor?)...and she was German.

Currently I’ve got 2 dead relatives I could consider venerating, my father and my aunt.

That’s all I’ve got. No info on great grandfathers from either side. From about 1200ad-1900ad I’ve got 0 known relatives (known to me)...and a lot happened during that 700 years. I might be able to ask family more details, but that’s a “Over the Holiday’s” problem, not one for now. Overall Ancestor worship is not something I currently practice, but I am always interested in the concept. I will keep exploring and poking at this area of work as life progresses.

#mine #witchblr #ancestor #ancestor veneration

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freehawaii · 4 years

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KUMU PAUL NEVES - PEACEFUL WARRIOR & AMBASSADOR OF ALOHA

Ke Ola -March/April 2020 - By Marcia Timboy

Kumu Hula Paul Neves is a familiar and esteemed presence to many on Hawai`i Island: a cultural practitioner, community organizer, vocal proponent of Native Hawaiian rights and sovereignty, and a high chief in the Royal Order of Kamehameha I. He has created hālau hula communities on a foundation of aloha with the intent of making a difference in the world, through the practice of Hawaiian cultural arts and values.

Paul was born in San Francisco, California on September 27, 1953, the 13th child of Manuel “Red” Neves and Agnes Kaina Kea. His father, Red, was from Kīlauea, Kaua`i. Paul’s grandparents, Joao Neves and Maria Rodrigues-De Pao, migrated from Madeira, Portugal to Kaua`i as plantation laborers in 1907. Red moved to O`ahu for better employment opportunities soon after high school. He eventually found work with the federal government.

“Papa was a civil service crane operator at Pearl Harbor, in charge of putting fresh water on the battleships. He narrowly escaped death during the bombing of Pearl Harbor on Sunday, December 7, 1941.”

Paul’s mother, Agnes Kea from Palama, O`ahu, was one of 14 children (as was Red). Her father, John Kea Mano was born in Kalaupapa, Molok`‘i. Agnes’ great-grandfather, Mano, originally from Wailua, Kaua‘i, was diagnosed with Hansen’s disease and sent to Kalaupapa leper colony in 1888.

Mano and a Lahaina woman, Nellie Nahiole`a, who also contracted the disease, started a family. Agnes Kea’s grandfather, born in 1892 in Kalaupapa, did not have leprosy. “My maternal great-grandparents’ signatures can be found on the ku‘e document, protesting the annexation of Hawai`i.”

After a quick courtship of two months, Red Neves and Agnes Kea were married in the Honolulu neighborhood of Kalihi in 1933. “My parents began their family in 1934. The war years were challenging for many kama`āina families. My dad did not like martial law in Hawai`i,” recalls Paul. Following WWII, his dad assisted in the cleanup after the Hilo tsunami of 1946. When his civil service job relocated to the West Coast, the family relocated as well.

Growing up Hawaiian on the Mainland

Kumu Paul was born in San Francisco, but he was brought up in the Hawaiian/kama`āina way. The Neves `ohana (family) bought a house and several lots in Bernal Heights in San Francisco, creating a Hawaiian-style homestead. “Dad raised pigs, cattle, goats, chickens, and we had an orchard and vegetable gardens. My folks tried to duplicate old Papakōlea [Hawaiian homestead lands in Honolulu] right above the City,” Paul remembers fondly.

During the 1950s through 1960s, the family was part of an intimate San Francisco community of Hawai`i transplants, hosting entertainers from “home” with backyard kanikapila (music jams) and island-style home cooking. Many of the Fairmont Hotel’s Tonga Room entertainers, and other touring Hawaiian musicians from ocean liners, would find their way up to the “Hawaiian homestead” of Bernal Heights. His mother, always so graciously generous in an innately Hawaiian way, shared whatever the family had.

“Poor is when you don’t know who you are,” Agnes Kea Neves told young Paul and his siblings, and she made sure they knew who they were, grounded in where they came from, Hawai`i.

His parents visited Hawai`i at least once a year on the Lurline or Mariposa ocean liners, to visit family and friends and transport Hawai‘i food and other supplies back to their adopted home.

The turbulent 1960s—with the Vietnam War, racial discord, and social upheaval—brought life-changing challenges to the Hawaiian family. Compelled to move back to Hawai`i after more than two decades away, the family settled in Kailua, O`ahu in 1968.

“They never forgot who they were or where they came from. My dad never considered himself haole,” says Paul, although his dad was Portuguese—of European descent.

Wandering, to Return

Young Paul graduated from Kailua High School in 1971, and left the islands in 1973 to seek adventure and opportunity. He and a friend headed down the Pacific Coast Highway from San Francisco to Mexico.

“We hung out there [Mexico] for around six months, living like hippies!” After driving back to Northern California, he explored living in several cities while working for Air California from 1974–1984, moving from Oakland to San Diego in 1975, and from San Diego to Las Vegas in 1979.

Moving to Las Vegas was a pivotal point in strengthening his cultural identity. He began studying renowned Kumu Hula No`eau Winona “Nona” Desha-Beamer, and kumu `ūniki (given status of kumu hula) from Aunty Nona in 1968. Subsequently, `ūniki was from Kumu Kaho`onei in 1999, after 20 years of study.

Since moving to Hilo in 1984, Kumu Paul has been active and involved in spiritual, cultural, and political issues facing Native Hawaiians. In 1986, he was a founding member of Ka Lahui Hawai`i, a sovereignty initiative. He also served the Catholic community for 21 years as a pastoral associate until 2004. He has given workshops in the Cook Islands, across the US continent, Puerto Rico, Europe, at the United Nations, the World Council of Churches, the United Nations Human Rights Commission in Geneva, Switzerland, and has participated as an official observer for the Royal Order of Kamehameha I in regards to the Hawaiian Kingdom at World Court in The Hague, Netherlands.

Kumu Paul established Hālau Ha‘a Kea o Akala in 1998; Hālau Ha‘a Kea o Kinohi in 2004, jointly based in Hilo, San Francisco, and Kyoto, Japan; and Hālau Ha‘a Kea o Mokihana in Washington, DC. He has judged and participated in hula competitions in Hawai‘i and Japan, including Hilo’s own Merrie Monarch Festival. “Hula people are ambassadors of aloha,” Paul proudly states.

When his parents moved to Hawai`i Island from O`ahu in 1989, Kumu Paul was already an integral member of the Hawaiian cultural community and aware of its concerns—one being the overdevelopment of “crown lands” on Mauna Kea. He asked his mother, Agnes Kea, about lineal ties to Mauna Kea, because of the family name.

“She said there is protection from Mauna a Kea, that it brings about balance. ‘Weʻre Kea people—unblemished.

The mountain without blemish. Itʻs so holy, youʻre not supposed to go up there and if you do go there, itʻs for something really important. You walk very softly; you leave no footprints.ʻ Thatʻs how she explained it.”

Kumu Paul believes he returned home to Hawai‘i for a higher purpose. “We were given a special place to live with God. That’s why the whole world comes here. We cannot replace what it is.”

Kāhea—The Call

On April 10, 2009, Kumu Paul attended the momentous 50th wedding anniversary of Emperor Akihito and Empress Michiko of Japan. He had developed a rapport with the royal family when, as a member of the Royal Order of Kamehameha I, he escorted Princess Sayako to the top of Mauna Kea in 1998 to visit Subaru Observatory. They met with the late well-known astronomer, Dr. Norio Kaifu, then the Subaru project’s director.

During a lunch meeting a few years later, Kumu Paul and his mentor, Genesis LeeLoy, candidly expressed their concern on further development atop Mauna Kea to Dr. Kaifu. “Please do not build more after Subaru,” they implored Dr. Kaifu. Kumu Paul believes that conversation was the reason no observatories have been built on Mauna Kea since 1998. Kumu Paul honored the astronomer’s integrity when he was invited to speak at Dr. Kaifu’s memorial in Tokyo in September 2019 by sharing the story of the lunch meeting to hundreds of dignitaries and scientists. “Dr. Kaifu [an architect of the TMT] didn’t say where to build the Thirty Meter Telescope [TMT]…Would you put it on Mount Fuji?”

The proposal of building the TMT has awakened an activist movement for many Hawaiians and their supporters worldwide.

Kumu Paul believes that Mauna Kea has called out “she that protects, now needs protecting.” He and the Royal Order of Kamehameha I, have heeded the kāhea (call), by establishing an ahu (altar) and a pu`uhonua (place of refuge) at the base of Mauna Kea. They have stood in vigilance since July 13, 2019 to protect Mauna Kea from further development and will do so “until the last aloha ‘āina,” Paul declares.

“The spirit of Mauna Kea is calling upon the Hawaiian people to realign their spiritual past, present, and future. Hawaiians have the kuleana, the privilege, and responsibility to share ‘kapu aloha’ with the world.” Paul believes that the true physical sign of this is: first light at Kumukahi, Puna, aligns with the Naha stone to Mauna Kea’s summit and consequently up the island chain to Mokumanamana in the northwest Hawaiian Islands.

Kumu Paul reflects, “We are all here for a reason. In my vision, Hawai`i is the new Geneva. This is where people come to learn peace. The Mauna Kea movement is firmly grounded in the concept of ‘kapu alohaʻ—to conduct oneself in pono [righteous] and sacred behavior, and many who visit the mauna are touched to practice peace. One must be silent when approaching Mauna Kea, listen to what she has to say, as she is bringing balance and alignment for all of us here.”

#paul neves #we are mauna kea #protect mauna kea #aloha aina #ku kiai mauna #free hawaii #hawaiian kingdom #aole tmt #tmt shutdown

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anastpaul · 5 years

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Saint of the Day – 13 July – Blessed Carlos Manuel Cecilio Rodríguez Santiago (1918–1963) aged 44 Layperson, Apostle of the Liturgy, Catechist, Speaker, Spiritual Advisor – born on 22 November 1918 at Caguas, Puerto Rico – died on 13 July 1963 of cancer at Caguas, Puerto Rico. He is the first Puerto Rican, the first Caribbean-born layperson in history to be Beatified.

Carlos Manuel Rodríguez was born in Caguas, Puerto Rico on 22 November 1918. His parents Manuel Baudilio Rodríguez and Herminia Santiago, both came from large families with strong Christian roots. He was baptised at the Sweet Name of Jesus Church in Caguas on 4 May 1919. He was the second of five brothers and sisters. Two of his sisters married, while another is a Carmelite nun. His only brother is a Benedictine priest and was the first Puerto Rican to become the abbot of a monastery.

‘Chali’ as a six years old, experienced a terrible loss – a terrible fire destroyed both his father’s small store and the family home. Having lost virtually all of their earthly goods, the young family moved in with Carlos Manuel’s maternal grandparents. Carlos Manuel was thereby strongly influenced by his grandmother, Alejandrina Esterás, a deeply devout and holy woman.

Carlos Manuel’s father, Manuel Baudilio, endured the loss good-naturedly. Hope and faith never left him until his death in 1940. Doña Herminia not being in a house of her own, imposed upon herself and her children a strong sense of respect, to a point of inhibition. This contributed to the reserved and timid personality of her children. Nonetheless, Herminia had the virtue of a serene happiness that was brightened up by her faith. Her relationship with the Lord was nourished by daily Eucharistic encounters.

So it was that – at a young age and in the heart of his own family – Carlos received his first lessons in Catholic faith and life. At the age of six he began his schooling at the Catholic School of Caguas, where he remained until completing eighth grade. It was there that he would come into contact with the Sisters of Notre Dame. He cultivated a special friendship with them during his entire life. Under their tutelage – as well as that of the Redemptorist Fathers – he received his initial religious and humanistic education.

His reception of Christ for the first time in the Holy Eucharist would mark the beginning of a love that would last a lifetime. He became an altar boy and began to experience the riches of the faith through the sacred liturgy of the Church. It is likely that it was at this time that he felt the initial call to live a life entirely dedicated to the Lord Jesus Christ.

When he graduated from eighth grade in 1932, he was first in his class and won a medal for his Religion. He then went on to study at the public Gautier Benítez High School in Caguas. But shortly after, he experienced the first symptoms of what would later become a severe gastrointestinal disorder, ulcerative colitis. This illness would cause him much suffering and inconvenience for the rest of his life. Nevertheless, it never undermined his commitment to Christ and His Church.

Carlos Manuel began his third year of high school (1934-35) at the Perpetual Help Academy in San Juan. There he renewed his contact with the Sisters of Notre Dame and the Redemptorist Fathers . His health, however, rendered him unable to continue studying there. Thus back in Caguas, he worked for some time, finally earning his High School diploma, in both the commercial and scientific areas, by May 1939.

He continued working as an office clerk until 1946, when he decided to pursue a bachelor’s degree at the University of Puerto Rico (UPR) in Río Piedras. However, despite excellent grades and his love for studies, illness prevented him from completing his second year. The end of formal education, however, did not mark the end of his education. As his friends at the UPR – who began to call him ‘Charlie’ would later recall – his studies really never ended. He was a voracious reader and his interests were wide-ranging, including the arts, science, philosophy, religion and music. In fact, although he only took piano lessons for a year, he continued to learn on his own, to the point where he was able to not only play the piano but also, the church organ. The sacred music he loved so much!

Nature was another of his great loves. As a child, he would spend summer vacations in the countryside . He often made day trips to the river or to the beach with his siblings. As an adult, he organised leisurely hikes with his family through the countryside. They would travel light – with modest provisions for food – and yet a great desire to commune with God’s creation.

Carlos Manuel worked as an office clerk in Caguas, Gurabo and at the Agriculture Experiment Station, which was part of the UPR. There he also translated documents from English to Spanish. He spent almost his entire modest salary to promote knowledge and love of Christ. He did this especially promoting a greater understanding of the significance of the Sacred Liturgy. Using articles on liturgical subjects which he himself translated and edited, Carlos Manuel began publishing Liturgy and Christian Culture, publications to which he dedicated innumerable hours.

Increasingly convinced that “the liturgy is the life of the Church,” (through proclamation of the Word, the Eucharist and the “mysteries of Christ” or sacraments), he organised along with Father McWilliams in Caguas a Liturgy Circle. Later on, in 1948, he assembles along with Father McGlone the parroquial chorus Te Deum Laudamus.

In Río Piedras, where brother Pepe and sister Haydée were already UPR faculty members, Carlos was able to achieve his ardent desire to make Christ known, among professors and students. As his disciples grew in number he moved into nearby Catholic University Centre and organised another Liturgy Circle (later called the Círculo de Cultura Cristiana).

He continued his publications and also organised his notable Christian Life Days for the benefit of University students who sought to understand and enjoy the liturgical seasons. He participated in panels on various topics and distinguished himself for his insistent emphasis on the importance of liturgical life, as well as the paschal meaning of life and death in Christ.

Carlos Manuel organised discussion groups in various towns and participated in societies such as the Brotherhood of Christian Doctrine, the Holy Name Society and the Knights of Columbus. He also taught Catechism to high school students whose teaching aids he supplied from his own income.

He zealously promoted and stood for liturgical renewal, among bishops, clergy and laymen: – active participation of laity, the use of the vernacular and – most especially – the observance of his much loved Paschal Vigil, which to Charlie’s delight was restored to its proper time near midnight by Pope Pius XII in 1952. Of note, all of Carlos Manuel’s proactive lay apostolic activity took place prior to the Second Vatican Council, thus a veritable pre-conciliar apostle towards approval of the Sacrosanctum concillium, at its onset.

Many a good number of people testify to their growth of a living faith thanks to his teachings, in conjunction with the integrity of his life and exemplary service. Others testify that Carlos Manuel’s zeal for Christ awakened in them their vocation to religious life. Those who sought him out in order to clarify their doubts — or seek to strengthen their faith –would never be disappointed.

To approach Carlos Manuel and to getting to know him was as if to approach a light that illuminated one’s perspective of life and its meaning. His glance and smile revealed the certain joy of Easter. An enormous spiritual strength transcended his fragile physical constitution. The firm conviction of his faith allowed him to overcome his natural shyness and he spoke with assurance resembling Saint Peter’s on Pentecost. Despite his failing health for so many years, no complaints ever clouded the joy with which he faced life. He reminded us that the Christian must be joyful because he or she lives the joy and hope that Christ gave with His Resurrection: VIVIMOS PARA ESA NOCHE – WE LIVE FOR THAT NIGHT – he would say.

His physical strength declined gradually but his spirit never failed. He lived each moment quietly overcoming his pain with the profound joy of one who knows himself to be resurrected. Following an aggressive “life-saving” surgery in 1963 he turned out to have advanced terminal cancer. Near the end, he experienced the “dark night of faith”, thinking himself abandoned by God, a known mystical experience. Yet, before dying, he rediscovered the Word he had lost and which had given sense to his entire life. His passage to eternal life took place on 13 July 1963 . He was 44. “The 13th is a good day,” he had said a few days before his death, without any of us having a notion of what that meant. Now we know.

Charlie’s Beatification Process was indeed a swift one! Initiated in 1992, the positio on heroic virtues, lead to his status as Venerable as of 7 July 1997. The miracle for his Beatification (cure of non-Hodgkins malignant lymphoma back in 1981) was approved on 20 December 1999 by HH St John Paul II. Thus, a record-making eight-year span, a first for lay apostles!…Vatican.va

A school in Bayamón is named after him, with the blessed title. The school was renamed in 2001: = Colegio Beato Carlos Manuel Rodríguez. Staff from the school witnessed the Beatification ceremony.

Below are his tomb and Shrine.

Saint of the Day – 13 July – Blessed Carlos Manuel Cecilio Rodríguez Santiago (1918–1963) Saint of the Day - 13 July - Blessed Carlos Manuel Cecilio Rodríguez Santiago (1918–1963) aged 44 Layperson, Apostle of the Liturgy, Catechist, Speaker, Spiritual Advisor - born on 22 November 1918 at Caguas, Puerto Rico - died on 13 July 1963 of cancer at Caguas, Puerto Rico.

#blcarlossantiago

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ghostflowerthings · 6 years

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Why do you write like you need it to survive?

A Profile of Lin Manuel Miranda and his Work

Lin Manuel Miranda is one of the best and most prolific composer, playwright, and singer in modern times. He has created various plays and composed music for movies. Miranda has won many awards for his work, nearly becoming the youngest person to win an EGOT. He set the record for the most Tony nominations for a musical, winning 11 of those awards.

The songs in his plays are unique in that most of the music doesn’t sound like Broadway show tunes. Rather, the music is heavily influenced by hip hop, and the music in his shows take on the beats and sounds of this style. In fact, Miranda stated to President Obama, he was working on “the story of the life of someone who embodies hip hop, Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton.” The style is so characteristic that in Hamilton, these different styles were symbolic of old British rule and the newly emerging United States. His other plays, In the Heights and 21 Chump Street, also have music with a clear hip hop influence.

As seen, hip hop is a prominent style in many of his works, but it is best exemplified in the Hamilton mixtape. With the popularity of Hamilton, Miranda collaborated with many different artists to create the mixtape, a revamping of the Hamilton soundtrack, and it sounds just like contemporary hip hop. And, since the music of Hamilton has hip hop motifs, it’s no surprise the Hamilton mixtape has been so well executed.

Although hip hop is a big influence, Miranda is still a theater kid. In order to raise money for the March for Our Lives event, Miranda created the Hamildrops. The most recent being Found Tonight, which is a collaboration between Miranda and Ben Platt. The music is a mash-up of songs from both Hamilton and Dear Evan Hansen. A tear-jerking masterpiece, it’s existence reminds us that although his music may not be traditional theater, there is still a component in his music that is influenced by musicals and theatre.

His music also has many common themes. While unintentional, much of Manuel’s music explores masculinity and the role men play within their own lives. In 21 Chump Street, Justin tries to prove he can provide to the girl he wants to woo in “What the Heck I Gotta Do.” Similarly, in his later work, Hamilton, Hamilton struggles to be a husband to Eliza in “That Would Be Enough.” “Dear Theodosia” explores both Hamilton’s and Burr’s promises to be their for their children and be there, even though their own fathers weren’t.

Feminism is another strong recurring theme in his work. While this may be more intentional, Miranda cites that he has been surrounded by strong woman. In fact, Miranda’s mother was a doctor, and the dominant force in his childhood home. Many of the characters he creates are strong independent woman. In Hamilton, he demonstrates that Eliza was instrumental in creating the legacy that Hamilton wanted. In “Satisfied,” he paints Angelica as quick-thinking and smart, which he gleamed from the letters she wrote. Miranda himself admitting that in a different time, Angelica would have helped build the United States.

This theme carries in his other works. Moana tells the story of a young girl who sets out to save her island. In each song featuring Moana, despite her struggles, Moana is portrayed as strong, stubborn, but overall a great leader to her people. In “I Am Moana,” Miranda shows Moana’s struggle, as well as her inner strength, when she decides that even though she doesn’t understand why the ocean chose her, she has the capabilities to save the day. In In the Heights, he creates “Abuela” Claudia, the matriarch of the entire town, a character quintessential in raising the protagonist, and playing a maternal role to many of the other characters.

As seen with the the recurring theme of feminism, Miranda’s work is heavily inspired by his experiences. Miranda is Puerto Rican, and has spent time in the country visiting his grandparents. This influence is most clearly seen in his song, “Almost Like Praying,” which he wrote to raise money for Puerto Rico after being hit by Hurricane Maria. However, these influences can also be heard in much of the music of In the Heights. Firstly, this happens because the story takes place in the barrio of Washington Heights, similar to where Miranda grew up, Innwood. Some of these Carribean and barrio vibes can be seen in the opening song, In the Heights, and throughout the rest of the musical.

The influences of his upbringing can also be seen throughout the musical Hamilton. His family immigrated from Puerto Rico, and as such has a very pro-immigrant stance. His diverse background and upbringing allowed him to understand the American experience. When creating Hamilton, in using non-traditional music, and casting non-white actors, he created the America as he knew it. He brought history into the modern century, and showed the United State as the diverse nation it is known to be. He told a truly American story in Hamilton: An American Musical.

One final take away from Miranda’s music, especially in his musicals are how well-written they are. In In the Heights, 21 Chump Street, and Hamilton, nearly all the dialogue and narration is done through music. Not only this, but Hamilton is full of leitmotifs, the extent of which can be seen here. The music he creates helps bring his stories to life. The music and motifs are carefully chosen such that, in the context of the story, become much more than their literal meaning. In “Burn,” Miranda demonstrates that Eliza can destroy his legacy, what he cares about most. With his style and casting, he creates the american story, combining history and the diversity the United States are known for.

Lin Manuel Miranda has created beautiful music and musicals. The themes and motifs found within his work are heavily influenced by his experiences, and it is clear when listening to his music. His works have recurring themes of masculinity and feminism, that come about from his upbringing, but are nonetheless, and important message that should be heard. He uses music, heavily inspired by hip hop and rap, send messages of feminism and tolerance. Miranda could be described by his own words, “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” But, who are we to complain when the results are such great creations.

#lin manuel miranda #hamilton #in the heights #21 chump street #moana #ben platt #dear evan hansen #feminism #found tonight #artist profile #music #musical #music review #musical review

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premierdetroit · 5 years

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Latino genealogists use Google to search for their roots

Please CLICK HERE to visit for the full article.

Mimi Lozano says genealogy has been a way to dispel the many stereotypes and celebrate the contributions of Hispanic and Latino families. Photo provided by the author.

When 85-year-old Mimi Lozano began looking into her Mexican heritage in the 1980s, she had a hard time accessing any information about her ancestors. It turns out the same was true for other people with her background, so she and other local genealogists took action. They decided to start the Society of Hispanic Historical and Ancestral Research, which has been helping people find their roots for over 30 years.

Mimi, who recently retired as head of the organization, has seen how technology has made genealogy research easier, particularly for Latino and Hispanic genealogists. "That's what I tell people. Don't get frustrated,” she says. “If you Google it, someone will have some information."

But Mimi isn’t alone in her search. Around the country, Hispanic and Latino genealogy enthusiasts are using Google technology to help them track down records, connect with other researchers and even reunite with long-lost relatives, to piece together a richer picture of the past.

Lenny Trujillo

Lenny at the Agua Mansa Cemetery, where many of his relatives and other early Hispanic settlers of California are buried.

Lenny Trujillo

Through his research, Lenny discovered more information about his great-great-great grandfather, Lorenzo Trujillo. "At some point Lorenzo made the decision to make a better life,” Lenny says. “It takes a lot to leave your homeland and totally uproot and go more than 1,000 miles to somewhere brand new."

Lenny Trujillo

Lorenzo’s story inspired Lenny to work with an artist to build a memorial with a design he felt embodied Lorenzo’s intrepid spirit. He loved the symbol so much that he made it into a family icon, and had a pendant made to wear around his neck, along with other commissioned artwork that now hangs on the walls of his Los Angeles home.

Growing up, Lenny Trujillo only knew bits and pieces of his family history. As a young boy, his father would take him to the Agua Mansa Cemetery in Colton, California, where dozens of his relatives are buried.

After retiring from the U.S. Postal Service, Lenny, who is 67, wanted to learn more about the patriarch of his family, Lorenzo Trujillo. In 1841, Lorenzo brought his entire family over from New Mexico to modern-day California, becoming one of the early non-indigenous settlers of the San Bernardino and Riverside areas.

Using Search, Lenny could look at the burial records of all the Trujillos at the cemetery and research the Old Spanish Trail, which his great-great-great grandfather Lorenzo traversed with his family over a thousand miles by foot.

Lorenzo's journey made a deep impression on Lenny. He wanted to memorialize Lorenzo in a significant way, so he enlisted a sculptor and chose one of his artworks to place near the unmarked gravesite. The design, he says, reminds him of a hurricane. “The center is bringing force in but it's also distributing everything at the same time," he says.

Joana Diaz

Joana Diaz grew up in Philadelphia without a lot of extended family around. She started her first family tree at age 10 because it made her feel connected to family in Puerto Rico.

Joana Diaz

Joana built a website called Puerto Rican Genealogy, where she shares information with others looking into their Puerto Rican history, while also providing a place to celebrate the mix of Spanish, indigenous Taíno and African lines that make up Puerto Rican heritage.

Joana Diaz

Joana, with her mother, father and daughter.

For 42-year-old Joana Diaz of Philadelphia, genealogy became a way to feel proud of who she is. Growing up, she would spend most summers in Puerto Rico, staying intermittently with both sets of grandparents, then back home, where she had very little family. So she started to look into her genealogy to feel closer to her family back in Puerto Rico.

Using Search, she found an old census and history books about Puerto Rico. She learned more about the line of family who came to Puerto Rico from Corsica, deciphering these documents with the help of Google Translate. One of her favorite finds was an old photograph of the church in Cidra, Puerto Rico, where she spent a number of summers.

"It's important to remember the struggles before you and what our ancestors went through,” she says. “On the island, time moves slowly. But it's also where people are still very connected to the earth, to the culture and who they are."

Kat Romero displays the family heirlooms that belonged to her great-grandmother Antonita Alires, which she uncovered by tracking down a relative using Search. Photo by Sabi Rivera.

Like Lenny, Kat Romero, 37, of Norman, Oklahoma, wanted to learn more about her Hispanic-New Mexican lineage. As a child, Kat mostly grew up with her mother's side of the family. But she longed to know more about her father's family.

She found a book, made available on Google Books, that showed that her father’s maternal side was from a long line of prominent Hispanic families. The platform, she says, has been valuable. "You would have to read countless books that would be in academic libraries just to find a mention of your ancestor," she says.

She went on to look into her father’s paternal line. Then, she heard that one of her relatives had many of the family keepsakes. The only problem: Due to a family rift, no one knew her whereabouts. She did some research in Google Search, then called each phone number and wrote letters to each address she found. When she had a good feeling about one of the addresses, she went to investigate.

Her hunch was right, and her long-lost cousin greeted her warmly, bringing out bins of photos and family memorabilia. Kat inherited her great grandmother’s tobacco box, hair comb and rosary—things she now treasures.

At age 15, Gabriel Garcia started an online social networking group with other Cuban Americans researching their roots because many of them did not know about their history. Photo courtesy of Gabriel Garcia.

A link to a place was also the reason for 23-year-old Gabriel Garcia to start digging into his ancestry. Gabriel came to Miami when he was 4 years old. His grandfather had been a political prisoner, and as a result his family was given asylum.

Coming to the U.S. at such a young age, he thought genealogy might be a way to connect to the country he left behind. In his family, he's gained the nickname el investigadorbecause of his relentlessness.

He interviewed all the relatives he could find. Through Search, he found some key information about his great-great grandfather, who migrated from the Canary Islands to Cuba: an article that listed the date he became a Cuban citizen. With additional digging, he found an image in a digitized book that showed his great-great grandfather in his tobacco field.

His research led him to meet with relatives he never knew existed. Not only that, he says it has also made him more open-minded. "It opens up another way to interpret and see the world," he says.

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multiracialmedia-blog · 7 years

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I Am Slowly Accepting That I am Japanese

In addition to being African American and White, I also slowly learning to accept the fact that I am Japanese.

In February I wrote about the results of the DNA test I took in November 2016. Although I had been surprised to learn about the small percentage of Black in me, nothing surprised me about the 25 percent Asian in me. I have always known I am Japanese—my maternal grandfather was born and raised in Japan. Honestly I am not sure whether having the DNA results has been blessing or a curse as I am still trying to figure this whole identity thing out.

I grew up self-identifying as Black and after the journey of co-authoring the book Being Biracial: Where Our Secret Worlds Collide, I started accepting all the parts that make me … me. This includes being Japanese.

The problem is, although I am Japanese, I know nothing about being Japanese. I’ll explain.

My Japanese grandfather with my great-grandfather, circa 1928.

My maternal grandfather “Francis” Inouye was born in Osaka, Japan in 1888. When he was 18, he joined the Japanese Navy where he worked as a chef. Although I’m not sure why, in 1929 he came to the United States and after meeting my grandmother, Cleopatra Allen—an African American woman—they fell in love and he never went back to Japan.

My mother, Emily, was born in 1933. At the time, both my grandparents were 45 years old. My grandmother was employed by a wealthy White family as their domestic: a combination house manager, house keeper, cook and nanny.

They lived in White Plains, a suburb of New York City. They were one of only two non-White families in the town. My mother and grandparents lived on the bottom floor of a two-family house. Upstairs was a Black couple raising two daughters who were around the same age as my mother.

White Plains was no fun for any person of color. Growing up, my mother was accustomed to being discriminated against by White people. Rocks were routinely thrown through their window, and once or twice the KKK burned a cross on their front lawn.

Conversely, my grandmother’s employers treated my mother and grandparents very well. This included my grandfather, despite the fact that he wasn’t American and he hardly spoke any English.

Occasionally my grandfather would pick my grandmother up from work, and he’d offer to cook for the family. It’s a given that my grandfather cooked Japanese food, which included preparing sushi. His specialty was making origami animals and flowers using vegetables like carrots.

My grandmother’s employers were very impressed with my grandfather’s culinary skills. With connections in the restaurant industry they got my grandfather a job as a sous chef at a nearby restaurant.

Before long my grandfather worked his way up to head chef and by the time my mother was three years old my grandfather owned a Japanese restaurant.

Although by this point he was fluent in English, my grandfather didn’t take the bus to and from work but was driven and my grandmother’s employers made sure he was never out in public alone. On paper, my grandfather did not own his restaurant. My grandmother’s employers did all the paperwork in their names and were very honest about making sure my grandfather received all of the profits from his business.

Why all the secrecy?

In 1924, the United States Congress introduced The Immigration Act of 1924 (also commonly referred to as the Johnson-Reed Act) restricting legal immigration from various countries, in particular from Japan. The purpose of this was to protect the homogeneity of the U.S.

This of course meant that my grandfather was living in the United States illegally. It also meant my grandparents were not legally married. My mother said of those times that she often wished she were living “high up on the mountain tops, far from the eyes of cops.”—a mantra she continued using as I was growing up. They lived in constant fear of my grandfather being deported.

Because of this “Act,” which ended in 1952, as a child and into her adulthood, my mother continually lied about who her father was. She learned at an early age to tell people my grandmother’s first husband, James Allen (a Black man who died before my mother was born) was her father. Indeed his name, and not my grandfather’s, is on my mother’s birth certificate.

My mother, circa 1943. She was Black and Japanese.

In 1938 when my mother was five years old, her father died of pancreatic cancer. The following year World War II started and in 1941, the United States broke their neutrality treaty and entered the war. Many troops were sent to Japan to fight and throughout the United States there was a lot of anti-Japanese sentiment.

Under President Franklin Roosevelt’s administration (1933-1945 and the only three-term president), anyone of Japanese ancestry living on the west coast was rounded up and sent to internment camps. They would remain in them until the war ended in 1945. Although it was unlikely my mother would have been sent to one, she continued keeping it a secret her father was Japanese. Her dark complexion and hint of almond eyes made it possible to fool people.

In 1958 my mother met my father, and they were married in 1960. My father was White and a mixture of German, Dutch and Irish. They met and married at the height of the Civil Rights Movement when Blacks were fighting for the right to eat in the same restaurants as Whites, sit where they wanted on public transportation, integration of public schools and universities and the right to marry whom they wanted. They were also fighting to end the systematic police brutality against them.

Before I was born, circa 1965. Although the Japanese is present in my mother, she identified as Black.

All too quickly my father was caught up in her fight—and the fight of all Black people—and as a result, they raised my brothers and me to identify as Black. Their rationale was that society will see us this way (even me, and I am much lighter in complexion than my brothers) and we should be prepared for the racism that will come our way. Believe me when I say I am grateful to them for this. It taught me to have a very tough exterior.

By this point, not only had my mother buried her Japanese heritage, my parents had made a conscious decision to do the same with their kids, but for different reasons. Their choices were not uncommon in those days. I knew many families who were biracial and multiracial who identified with only one.

My mother often said about many things in life, “parents give their children unspoken commands that their children implicitly obey.” This would describe my brothers’ and my relationship with being Japanese. We knew growing up that we were a rich blend of heritages, and we were taught to appreciate the cultures and histories of them all (along with everyone else’s), but at the same time, my brothers and I were taught to self-identify as Black.

Although I Am Japanese, Too, I Am Still Very Much a Work in Progress

After I started college (when I was 16) I began to give myself permission to examine my “mixedness” more closely. For about ten years (between the ages of 22 and 32) I was a Buddhist (as was my grandfather). However, my journey embracing the fact that I am Japanese has been a bumpy road and today I am still very much a work in progress.

It’s not that I don’t accept that I am Japanese, I am very proud to be mixed race with so many ethnicities and cultures inside me. However despite my pride, I look in the mirror and I don’t “see” Japanese. In the same way my mother was able to convince herself through years that she was Black, I had done the same.

I may be Japanese, but I sure don’t look like it.

What we typically think of as Japanese is not in my hair, my eyes, my face or my build. I am taller than my mother and grandfather were and I am big boned like my father’s German side of the family. I have a light tan complexion (which is actually about the same complexion as my grandfather) with curly hair and high cheekbones like my mother and my maternal grandmother. I have large eyes that nobody mistakes for being remotely Asian.

When I lived in the United States, I had become quite used to fielding questions like, “What are you?” and “Where are you from?” The beauty and the curse of being multiracial had become the same. When the curiosity and labeling me exotic wore off, the judgments, people’s assumptions (usually erroneous) and racism were soon to follow. I got to a point where I used to wish I could blend in better—not with them but with the walls around me.

And yet, I am Japanese. I look at photos of my grandfather and my mother, and I see that they were clearly Asian.

My brothers have their own relationships with being Japanese. My oldest brother has never shown any interest in identifying as part Japanese. He looks the most Black of the three of us (he looks a lot like President Barack Obama, actually) and he has had to deal with so much racism over the years that it has dominated his self-identity.

My middle brother looks most like my mother and actually looks Japanese with a darker complexion than I have. He is the only one of us with straight hair, and he is often asked if he is Asian of some kind. I think he feels a connection to the Japanese side more than my older brother and I do.

Paul and me in 2009.

And now since my husband (who’s Black) and I have lived on Puerto Rico since 2008, I am often assumed to be Puerto Rican because Puerto Ricans are a beautiful mixture of West African, Taino Indian and Spanish from Spain. Because I blend, I don’t usually correct people. This is partly purposeful because it’s been wonderful not being on the defensive about who I am with total strangers the way I had to when I lived in the U.S. I so often say about Puerto Ricans, “when you’re here, you’re family.” There is a genuine acceptance here that I rarely felt when I lived in the U.S. This is not to suggest that there aren’t race issues here that stem from colonization and slavery but it’s 99% better than it is in the U.S.

On the occasions when I do tell people my racial makeup, while I do get people asking me all sorts of questions, it’s not because I feel they’re judging me but because Asians aren’t the norm here. Asians (all combined) comprise just .02% of the island’s population). And oftentimes after I have explained my racial and ethnic makeup, people respond by saying, “Oh well, you’re Puerto Rican now. You’re one of us.”

And this is the reason my husband and I live here and why we’ll never leave.

I Am Slowly Accepting That I am Japanese if you want to check out other voices of the Multiracial Community click here Multiracial Media

#biracial #Black #I am Japanese #Japanese and White #mixed-race #Multiracial

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premierdetroit · 5 years

Quote

Editor’s note: For National Hispanic Heritage Month, we teamed up with Los Angeles-based artist and photographer Arlene Mejorado, whose work explores themes of racial identity and cultural experience. She brought the family stories of Joana Diaz and Lenny Trujillo to life for this article.Mimi Lozano says genealogy has been a way to dispel the many stereotypes and celebrate the contributions of Hispanic and Latino families. Photo provided by the author.When 85-year-old Mimi Lozano began looking into her Mexican heritage in the 1980s, she had a hard time accessing any information about her ancestors. It turns out the same was true for other people with her background, so she and other local genealogists took action. They decided to start the Society of Hispanic Historical and Ancestral Research, which has been helping people find their roots for over 30 years. Mimi, who recently retired as head of the organization, has seen how technology has made genealogy research easier, particularly for Latino and Hispanic genealogists. "That's what I tell people. Don't get frustrated,” she says. “If you Google it, someone will have some information."But Mimi isn’t alone in her search. Around the country, Hispanic and Latino genealogy enthusiasts are using Google technology to help them track down records, connect with other researchers and even reunite with long-lost relatives, to piece together a richer picture of the past.Lenny TrujilloLenny at the Agua Mansa Cemetery, where many of his relatives and other early Hispanic settlers of California are buried.Lenny TrujilloThrough his research, Lenny discovered more information about his great-great-great grandfather, Lorenzo Trujillo. "At some point Lorenzo made the decision to make a better life,” Lenny says. “It takes a lot to leave your homeland and totally uproot and go more than 1,000 miles to somewhere brand new."Lenny TrujilloLorenzo’s story inspired Lenny to work with an artist to build a memorial with a design he felt embodied Lorenzo’s intrepid spirit. He loved the symbol so much that he made it into a family icon, and had a pendant made to wear around his neck, along with other commissioned artwork that now hangs on the walls of his Los Angeles home. Growing up, Lenny Trujillo only knew bits and pieces of his family history. As a young boy, his father would take him to the Agua Mansa Cemetery in Colton, California, where dozens of his relatives are buried. After retiring from the U.S. Postal Service, Lenny, who is 67, wanted to learn more about the patriarch of his family, Lorenzo Trujillo. In 1841, Lorenzo brought his entire family over from New Mexico to modern-day California, becoming one of the early non-indigenous settlers of the San Bernardino and Riverside areas.Using Search, Lenny could look at the burial records of all the Trujillos at the cemetery and research the Old Spanish Trail, which his great-great-great grandfather Lorenzo traversed with his family over a thousand miles by foot. Lorenzo's journey made a deep impression on Lenny. He wanted to memorialize Lorenzo in a significant way, so he enlisted a sculptor and chose one of his artworks to place near the unmarked gravesite. The design, he says, reminds him of a hurricane. “The center is bringing force in but it's also distributing everything at the same time," he says.Joana DiazJoana Diaz grew up in Philadelphia without a lot of extended family around. She started her first family tree at age 10 because it made her feel connected to family in Puerto Rico.Joana DiazJoana built a website called Puerto Rican Genealogy, where she shares information with others looking into their Puerto Rican history, while also providing a place to celebrate the mix of Spanish, indigenous Taíno and African lines that make up Puerto Rican heritage.Joana DiazJoana, with her mother, father and daughter.For 42-year-old Joana Diaz of Philadelphia, genealogy became a way to feel proud of who she is. Growing up, she would spend most summers in Puerto Rico, staying intermittently with both sets of grandparents, then back home, where she had very little family. So she started to look into her genealogy to feel closer to her family back in Puerto Rico. Using Search, she found an old census and history books about Puerto Rico. She learned more about the line of family who came to Puerto Rico from Corsica, deciphering these documents with the help of Google Translate. One of her favorite finds was an old photograph of the church in Cidra, Puerto Rico, where she spent a number of summers. "It's important to remember the struggles before you and what our ancestors went through,” she says. “On the island, time moves slowly. But it's also where people are still very connected to the earth, to the culture and who they are."Kat Romero displays the family heirlooms that belonged to her great-grandmother Antonita Alires, which she uncovered by tracking down a relative using Search. Photo by Sabi Rivera.Like Lenny, Kat Romero, 37, of Norman, Oklahoma, wanted to learn more about her Hispanic-New Mexican lineage. As a child, Kat mostly grew up with her mother's side of the family. But she longed to know more about her father's family.She found a book, made available on Google Books, that showed that her father’s maternal side was from a long line of prominent Hispanic families. The platform, she says, has been valuable. "You would have to read countless books that would be in academic libraries just to find a mention of your ancestor," she says.She went on to look into her father’s paternal line. Then, she heard that one of her relatives had many of the family keepsakes. The only problem: Due to a family rift, no one knew her whereabouts. She did some research in Google Search, then called each phone number and wrote letters to each address she found. When she had a good feeling about one of the addresses, she went to investigate. Her hunch was right, and her long-lost cousin greeted her warmly, bringing out bins of photos and family memorabilia. Kat inherited her great grandmother’s tobacco box, hair comb and rosary—things she now treasures.At age 15, Gabriel Garcia started an online social networking group with other Cuban Americans researching their roots because many of them did not know about their history. Photo courtesy of Gabriel Garcia. A link to a place was also the reason for 23-year-old Gabriel Garcia to start digging into his ancestry. Gabriel came to Miami when he was 4 years old. His grandfather had been a political prisoner, and as a result his family was given asylum. Coming to the U.S. at such a young age, he thought genealogy might be a way to connect to the country he left behind. In his family, he's gained the nickname el investigadorbecause of his relentlessness. He interviewed all the relatives he could find. Through Search, he found some key information about his great-great grandfather, who migrated from the Canary Islands to Cuba: an article that listed the date he became a Cuban citizen. With additional digging, he found an image in a digitized book that showed his great-great grandfather in his tobacco field. His research led him to meet with relatives he never knew existed. Not only that, he says it has also made him more open-minded. "It opens up another way to interpret and see the world," he says.Related ArticleMariate Arnal wants everyone in Mexico to get onlineGoogle Mexico’s Managing Director, Mariate Arnal, talks about her role leading a Next Billion Users market, and her passion for fighting ...Read Article

http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/InsideSearch/~3/IfBBr5fkuLk/

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