As Hispanic Heritage Month begins to wind down, I’ve done a lot of reflecting on what it means to be a Hispanic. I’m proud of my Cuban heritage, and I proclaim it loudly. I love mi patria, mi tierra, despite never having set foot on it. Even though I could take this time to talk endlessly about the authentic vaca frita or pastelitos or Celia Cruz, my heart has been dwelling on something a bit more serious.
I’ve noticed a disconcerting trend in politics recently, especially amongst my peers. I’ve seen a rise in people actively, openly calling themselves Communists or Socialists. And personally as a Cuban, it hurts my heart.
I understand entirely why people are drawn to socialism and communism. It’s idealistic: everyone’s equal, the playing field is level and everyone has equal resources. I get it, it sounds amazing: who’s against everyone being equal? But it never is what it seems.
Communism is waiting in lines, several hours long, to get a single container of milk, allocated through the government’s rationing system, to feed your large household.
Communism is getting expelled from your high school because you wore a black armband in memoriam of a friend being executed by the government.
Communism is being publicly ridiculed—in second grade, no less—because your family actively attends church on Sundays.
Communism is being arrested for using a typewriter to voice your opinions against the current government. And being tortured when you refuse to give up your friends’ names.
This may sound dramatic to some, but it’s all true. These are just my parents’ and grandparents’ stories alone, and this is hardly scratching the surface.
Once again, I respect the fact that many people will disagree with me. Believe me, I encourage discussion and debate—this is America. We’re so incredibly blessed to be able to voice our opinions.
However, it’s because of the stories that my parents and grandparents have told me that I’m studying political science. It’s because of my friends who think socialized education and medicine that I’m studying and researching alternative ways that don’t involved these socialist methods. It’s because I’m reading news about Venezuela and seeing them go down the same path as Cuba that I fight. I refuse to keep quiet when so many from my homeland have been silenced.
Despite the Cuban travel ban and embargo being lifted, I refuse to visit Cuba. Only when Cuba is free will I allow myself to go. Furthermore, just because Fidel Castro died in 2016, it certainly doesn’t mean the fight is over; it’s only getting started. In the words of the iconic Cuban artist Willy Chirino, ya viene llegando. I can feel it.