from Scaturro, the fancy supermarket
we shop at when Mami gets paid
from her job at the factory.
Mami says: If you’re going to be a target
you should be a moving one.
El Señor and his carrito, however,
are not really concerned
about being a target.
He’s been selling maví in Bushwick for years.
Maví is how he pays his rent & he makes a killing
because you can’t find maví in supermarkets.
Mami always stops and buys a jug for her
and a cup for me.
It’s all the old man has, she says.
I’m not used to her being so kind.
I side-eye the drink
and wait for her to look away
to dump it in the sewer drain.
The new people on the block
who look too young and too white
to be his customers are angry too.
I wanna laugh and say:
Welcome to Bushwick
but they’ll know I don’t
mean it. They’re so tight that
in their rush to nowhere
they’ve almost tripped over
the crazy old man yelling at his wheels.
He’s far from crazy though.
Since they’ve just moved here,
I know things they don’t know,
like how his anger doesn’t come from the fear of dying from standing still,
it comes from the fear
of not being able to move
enough to live.
STORYTIME WITH SEÑOR MAVÍ
Señor Maví has all the stories.
He was around back when Broadway got burnt
to the ground.
¿Tú sabías eso? he says.
Mil novecientos setenta y siete.
Señor Maví talks slow & raspy.
His voice is so hypnotizing
it can almost carry you directly
into the flashback.
The 1977 Blackout
had everybody wildin’ out on Broadway!
¡Se llevaron todo!
Televisions, furniture.
Señor Maví said he even
copped himself a new mattress.
People took what they needed.
& they needed everything.
Señor Maví said in his time
people really struggled.
Not like now.
We don’t know shit about struggle.
Señor Maví sounds like he’s asking himself a question:
¿Los muchachos de hoy en día?
And then answers it.
No saben ni un carajo lo que es sufrir.
I wanna ask Señor Maví about his struggle.
I wanna ask him about how he got here.
But instead I ask him for permission.
Can I be Puerto Rican?
CAN I BE PUERTO RICAN?
If I was born in Brooklyn?
If I’ve never been to Puerto Rico?
If I mix my English with my Spanish?
If I cop quenepas from the Chino spot?
If I don’t know the Boricua national anthem?
If I can’t name our national heroes?
Can I be Puerto Rican?
If the closest I’ve come to the beach is la pompa?
If I can’t dance salsa?
If all I got is a feeling?
Can I be Puerto Rican?
If all I got is a feeling?
IF BEING BORICUA IN BUSHWICK IS A FEELING—IT’S THE BEST KIND
It’s throwing your body in front of la pompa
when the block is on fire.
It’s searching la basura for an empty Goya can
to stab into a sprinkler system.
If being Boricua in Bushwick
is a feeling, it’s chasing el piragüero
to cop a cherry icee for you &
a hielo de crema for Mami.
It’s buying Trapper Keepers from the 99 cents store
on Graham, Myrtle and Knickerbocker Ave.
It’s shopping on any ave. except 5th.
Unless 5th is hosting the Puerto Rican Day Parade.
Then you buy flags off Papo’s carrito
& plaster everything you own in it.
It’s the smell of arroz con gandules y una chuleta
bien sazonada, seasoning the hallway to el apartamento.
It’s talking to God. It’s talking about God.
It’s the best bochinche ever.
It’s música del Diablo
blasting out of Honda Civics.
It’s música de Jesucristo
blasting out of Pentecostal churches.
It’s buying pollo from el vivero
instead of el supel-melcado
a reminder that something
always has to die
for you to survive.
BEING BORICUA IS NOT JUST A FEELING
Señor Maví is offended that I would even say that.
Qué feeling ni feeling.
Ju Boricua or Ju No?
When he is talking English
Señor Maví’s accent leaves out certain letters
& emphasizes others.
Some people will argue that he’s saying it wrong
but I like to think he’s making a choice
on how much English gets to live
on his tongue at a time.
What makes somebody Boricua?
I ask a question & pose a challenge.
Primero tenemos que bregar con la historia.
I think Señor Maví means that being Puerto Rican
concerns a history I don’t know
& one I must learn.
HOW WE TALK
BORICUAS
We don’t say listen up
We say: ¡Mira!
We don’t say we’re surprised
We say: ¡Chacho!
We don’t say we’re poor
We say: La piña está agria.
We don’t say that sucks
We say: Ay bendito.
We don’t say what a mess
We say: ¡Qué revolú!
Today, I overheard the bodeguero Goldo
use all of these while talking to a customer.
Mira. ¡En qué revolú me metí yo mudándome pá acá!
¡Chacho! Y estoy estoquiao, porque la piña está agria.
& all the customer could say back was:
Ay bendito.
PRONUNCIATION
We can tell who is from the neighborhood
and who isn’t by the way they pronounce
street names. We pronounce Graham Avenue
not like the cracker (GRAM) but like if
the first half of the word got stuck in your mouth
and you had to breathe out to let out the second
(GRAA-HAM). Some people say we are saying
it wrong but they are just jealous our accents
want every letter to be heard because isn’t that the worst
thing? To exist so plainly in sight and still be ignored.
PLANCHA
If Estrella’s hair was a street name
it would be hard to pronounce.
Estrella has mad hair.
You couldn’t ignore it if you wanted to.
I know because it’s my job to iron it.
We don’t have an ironing board in our new small room.
So Estrella sits on the floor against the bed.
I section off her waves until they lay flat
on the bed l
ike dead lightning bolts.
I press until she is Pantene Pro-V beautiful.
If Pantene Pro-V hired models from the hood,
Estrella would have a job.
Except that the girls in the commercials
have good behavior hair
& Estrella’s hair is that disrespectful
talk-back kind of hair
the kind you can hear yelling
on the other end of the telephone
the kind you hang up on.
GOOD HAIR DAYS
BAD HAIR DAYS
On the good hair days, Mami braids Estrella’s hair firmly because loose, free-flowing hair is for putas y piojos. Today is a bad hair day. Estrella said she didn’t care if she looked like a puta or got head lice. She’s wearing her hair loose no matter what. Mami didn’t even let her finish being disrespectful before her hands dove all into Estrella’s hair the way pigeons dive towards the concrete when the block viejitas feed them breadcrumbs.
No matter how shiny I make Estrella’s hair look, it will always dull in Mami’s hands. This morning, Mami’s grip is on point. This exact scene has happened so many times, it’s almost like they’ve memorized their moves. Mami knows the perfect way to steer Estrella across the floor like a mop & Estrella knows exactly how to rise from the floor like steam.
GOD & LUCIFER
Estrella & my birthdays both fall on holidays.
She got Halloween & I got Nochebuena.
When Mami is buggin’
that Estrella belongs to the Devil
& I was chosen by God.
Mami barks at Estrella & has her kneel on a pile of rice.
I used to have to ignore Estrella or risk my knees too.
But then I started sitting on the rice
just so Estrella wouldn’t be so alone.
Now whenever Mami tries to separate us
we lock ourselves in the bathroom & laugh
like two old friends
reuniting in heaven after so long.
ESTRELLA TURNS SEVENTEEN
She’s finally the age of our favorite magazine.
TLC was on their cover this year & Estrella said
maybe one day we could be on somebody’s cover all
crazy, sexy, cool.
In Bushwick, everyone is the star
of their own tragedies.
We don’t call our lives a tragedy
but the newspapers do.
The newspaper got the best bochinche about us.
The newspaper is like that one kid in class
who always talking mad shit about you
when you not around
but won’t ever say it to your face.
THE DAILY NEWS SAYS
The Daily News says we all carry knives.
The people who carry knives say they gotta watch their back.
The Daily News says we are all on welfare.
The people who are on welfare say nobody would hire them.
The Daily News says we all end up pregnant.
The people who end up pregnant say:
Are you gonna take care of my kids?
No? Then mind your own business!
The Daily News says we’re all on drugs.
The people who are on drugs say they just wanted to escape.
The Daily News says we’re all drug dealers.
The people who deal the drugs
say they’re providing the escape.
Then there are the people The Daily News
doesn’t report on at all.
People like Ms. Rivera, Lala
& Lala’s parents.
People like Mami, Estrella & me.
The people at The Daily News
have a story to print.
The people in the streets
have their own story to tell.
& I’m writing my own story
so that I can remember it accurately
in case someone else
tries to tell it for me.
DEVOTIONAL
In church everyone has a role to play
if you’re in good standing with God.
You can be a preacher, play instruments,
teach Sunday School, or even help people to their seats.
The pastor has given me the role of devotional lead.
This means I open up the service by singing.
This is an important role because it sets the tone.
Too many hymns and people might fall asleep
but pretend they’re praying.
Too many coritos and the Holy Spirit
might take over.
Which is actually exciting
but it makes the service longer.
The man who plays the piano says
we can rehearse
if I want so he can get to know my voice.
Piano Man is so supportive.
He also offered to teach me
how to play the drums
since the church is missing a drum player.
Maybe playing the drums could be a new talent
that might even get me on the cover of Seventeen magazine!
The first Puerto Rican Pentecostal drummer
from Bushwick to make it there.
Anywhere.
WE’RE SORRY THE WELFARE OFFICE IS CLOSED AND WILL REOPEN WHEN YOU HAVE NO BUS FARE TO GET HERE
In another language
we have it all.
Goodness is our inheritance.
In this language
the case manager assigns an ID card to remind
us that goodness can be taken away
& we gonna need to reapply.
In this language
Mami doesn’t laugh
so loud or dance so publicly
or love us too much
that we forget
the scraping sound
at the bottom of the pot
the burnt taste of tomorrow.
TOY DRIVE
Since Jesus decided to be born
at the end of the month
we have to wait on line
with everybody else who’s broke
by now. Mami asked
if they were giving out coats this year
but they said they didn’t get enough
donations for a coat drive.
Estrella & I asked the lady
if she had Barbies, and we got them.
Some people will say we’re too old
to be playing with Barbies.
But it’s either that or settle
for gloves & scarves.
Since we can’t watch TV,
Estrella & I use the Barbies to create
our own live action novelas.
Estrella’s Barbie lives in the mansion with Ken
and rides the pink corvette.
The pink Corvette didn’t come with the Barbies,
so we make one
out of an inside out cereal box
& Tropical Fantasy caps
& waste one whole pink crayon to color it.
The mansion is on our windowsill
& we pretend Barbie
has a view of a neighborhood
with streets with names
that end in Place, or Drive.
Estrella makes my Barbie the maid
and says I’m lucky to even be in the house.
I think this storyline is mad boring so I refuse to clean
the window so I can add some drama like in real novelas.
Estrella gets mad and tells my Barbie she is fired
and k
isses Ken
to celebrate.
I light up a paper towel on the stove
& start a small revenge fire
on the first floor of the mansion.
If I can’t have a good life too,
none of us should.
Estrella pats down the burning curtain
and saves her pretend life.
I throw my Barbie at Estrella’s face.
She throws her Barbie at mine.
It’s just a game, stupid, she says.
You act like this is actually real life.
BIRTHDAYS ARE THE WORST DAYS
I turn fourteen today
but around here we only remember things
that matter.
Things that matter pay the bills.
The teachers say all I gotta do is get good grades
and graduate to make it.
I’ve always been an honor roll student
so maybe that means one day I’ll be an honor roll worker.
It’s not that I’m any good at school,
it’s just that I know how to follow the rules.
Estrella says rules are meant to be broken
& my teachers say that’s why
she’s never gonna do nothing,
never gonna go nowhere, never gonna be somebody.
I got dreams because I have to have them.
I got dreams ’cause I wanna wake up one day
to a Happy Birthday.
WE NOT CATHOLIC
Mami doesn’t want me wearing the cross
Lala gave me for Christmas
because it sports a dead Jesus on it.
Mami says Jesus is alive even though
nobody in Bushwick has ever seen him
anywhere other than on the rosaries
in the hands of the Italians,
possibly praying for us to leave the neighborhood.
Catholics keep their Jesus laid up
on a wooden cross everywhere you can think of.
Dead Jesus crosses, dead Jesus paintings,
dead Jesus candles and statues and Bibles.
Dead Jesus is a constant reminder
that love requires sacrifice even though
we never asked for him to die in the first place.