https://everythingspeakstome.com/files/original/65c3539f7536bd970c2ac8c035d92fdc.png d5dd99dc77804f906649c53377991106 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Miami Stories Description An account of the resource Real stories of life in Miami. Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Please post your written submission in this field. The images you would like to include should be posted as attachments below. We arrived at Miami to give you the opportunities that Colombia couldn’t give you. Here-- you can keep your language. It’s true. Unlike other Floridian cities, Miami had the perfect blend of Latino ethnicities to become the perfect oasis of fortune, while sacrificing as little as possible of their culture. Staple foods from their countries traveled with them here if they ever felt homesick. Neighborhoods filled with immigrants of the same nation made others feel a sense of belonging in a foreign place. My family left Colombia to escape the violent reign of drug trafficking; but they don’t like to give Pablo Escobar all of the credit. However, if Miami was as empathetic as my family claimed, if it was open to all ethnically and culturally diverse as others claimed-- why did we chase out the ones we never understood? Did you hear about Paul, mija? He says he likes men! He was super guapo too. Que perdida. What a waste. I did not hear of this news. I always knew my family to be chismosa-- they love gossip-- but this felt wrong. It was my first time hearing of someone loving the same gender and it was introduced in a hushed conversation. We were talking about something that wasn’t welcomed. I was only ten and the double digits didn’t help me understand the situation better. My Tia cared so much for a silly crush. Maybe it was because Paul was different from others. Then why did I see her exchange food with the dona across the street? Dona Mercedes had a metal leg-- that made her different. Yet something within me swelled because I knew that didn’t answer my question. I’ll continue to play with my dolls and reenact the conversation in my head. Paul was a handsome man, yet I couldn’t fathom why he’d be a waste. Maybe men who liked men didn’t fit this mold of masculine beauty that my Hispanic family was so accustomed to; But Paul proved that wrong. The conversation had left me unsettled and as I scrammed for an explanation, the only conclusion I came up with was that I wasn’t disturbed with the word of a close relative coming out as gay, rather my family’s disapproving reaction. Por Dios! I cannot watch Caso Cerrado anymore. Rumor has it that the Judge is a lesbian. I couldn’t help, but laugh. Television, the best form of media to expose its audience to all the wonders and experiences of the world. Almost all. I am thirteen now, yet my pre-adolescent self couldn’t answer the question that irked me: Why do you care? Maybe they just haven’t seen relationships like these upclose. Miami must have shown them something they didn’t see in their home countries, so that must explain their disdain. Caso Cerrado! But none of these shows, movies nor media have ever changed their mindsets. You would think that being presented to diverse relationships and genders and sexualities might spark a reevaluation. A different perspective to a country that demonized men holding hands, two women caring for a baby, and people being confident with their identity. All the accessibility to change this way of thinking is at the touch of their fingertips. While the trigger is closer than ever, they probably will never change. I want to scream at my abuelita, “You can still watch your show”! But you can’t undo generations of homophobia with one reality TV show. You forgot the keys? Marica! They were in your bag! Go back to the store to see if you can find them. Don’t say that-- that word, marica. I am fifteen now and my family has slowly grown accustomed to cursing in front of me. Must be the shift of womanhood that eased their censorship. Yet that word irks every fiber of my being. I have been to several family reunions and parties and I hear the word blaring in latin rap and reggaeton. I attend the supermarkets and bodegas and I hear the word passed as a friendly banter. I drive on the highway and calle ocho and when a car drives too slow, the word is roared in an attempt to spur them on. This word is used in a variety of contexts; whether it be friendly, cautionary, or leisurely. It is so integrated within all the Hispanics that reside in Miami. It is normalized so much within my family, that I wonder if they forgot the true meaning of that word. The thousands of people that had to endure the slap of humiliation and beared the violent ignorance under the word. Of course, they will continue to use this word because no one bothered telling them otherwise. I’m starting to understand why they care. I don’t understand them. They are so loud with their makeup, with the way they dress and with the way they talk. Es muy obvio. Too obvious. I am eighteen now and it is painfully obvious as to why they care. Miami is the place where varieties of Latin and Caribbean communities reside and claim to set differences aside; And give a home to the ethnically and culturally diverse, but your presence is unwanted when you pass the boundary of heterosexuality and cis-gender. Hispanic countries have indoctrinated their youth with stereotypes and bash anyone that doesn’t fit the feminine and masculine standard. These youth have grown up and live within Miami now; You know them as your abuelos, your padres, and your tios. They care because they were taught to care. Miami can be so much more than the homes of refugees and immigrants. It has the potential to be a place of unity for all communities outrunning a mutual feeling of estrangement. A city that not only proudly displays ethnic cultures, but also embraces complex beings for their unique identities. The bones of Miami are well-structured enough to be built as a safe haven for all. However, without amending and acknowledging heteronormative ideals within the Hispanic community, the cycle will ensue and even our future generations will continue their feigned behavior. Until then, I will continue living in Miami, saddened at the facade of accepting promises that dissipate when microaggressions slip. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Home of the Hypocrites Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 03/14/2022