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For young people whose rivers of dreams
are so varied and hopeful
and for Laura Godwin with gratitude
HISTORICAL NOTE
Most US history books begin with colonization of the thirteen colonies by English invaders who conquered numerous Indigenous nations. However, the part of modern US territory that was colonized the earliest is Puerto Rico. As a result, Hispanic history in regions that are now called the United States spans more than five centuries. In addition, the Indigenous ancestry of mestizos on modern US territory extends for tens of thousands of years, and includes countless nations from all the Américas: North, South, and Central. Condensing every aspect into one book of poems would be an overwhelming task. All I’ve tried to do in Dreams from Many Rivers is portray a few glimpses of a vast and complicated past.
With the exception of the first section about Borikén (Puerto Rico), I have used modern place names to avoid confusion since historically, place names changed quite often.
Only Hispanic and Latino voices are included in Dreams from Many Rivers, with the exception of Indigenous Taíno voices in the first section. Fictional characters are indicated by first name only, while historical figures include a surname or title.
I have made no attempt to explain the history and politics of countries of origin of US Latinos, because they include dozens of Latin American countries, as well as many other parts of the world.
Television programs, movies, and popular culture often portray Latinos as impoverished barrio dwellers. The truth is that we live in every part of the United States, both rural and urban; poor, middle class, and wealthy. Our reasons for living in the United States range from being here before it became the US to arriving as refugees or arriving as highly qualified doctors, scientists, artists, and musicians. We are complex. We cannot be simplified.
In order to write about US Latino history, I had to make two essential decisions. The first was facing the shameful atrocities of Spanish conquistadors and their descendants, including invasions, genocide, conquest, forced labor, persecution, and racism. Spanish invaders were just as brutal as English invaders, slaughtering Native Americans, enslaving the survivors, then importing enslaved people from Africa. This book is an attempt to portray our history honestly, rather than choosing to ignore the parts that we long to forget.
The second decision was acknowledging that the history of the modern US begins in Puerto Rico, not Plymouth Rock or Jamestown, as is widely believed. Puerto Ricans are US citizens. They can travel freely between the island and mainland without passports. They pay taxes. But Puerto Rico is a territory, not a state. They are not allowed to vote in presidential elections. They often have to endure being mistaken for immigrants. This dual nature of Puerto Rico, with two languages and a confusing in-between status, strikes me as significant for anyone who has ever felt simultaneously accepted and rejected.
Dreams from Many Rivers does not answer even a tiny fraction of the questions that a student might ask a teacher during Hispanic/Latino Heritage Month. I have my own series of enormous questions. Why has so much of the Latino experience been omitted from standard textbooks? Why are we so often reduced to a few absurd stereotypes? Why are invaders and conquerors glorified, while peacemakers are ignored? Why do we have to learn history’s truths on our own, instead of encountering our real stories in school? How can this drastic injustice begin to change?
Y mi niñez fue toda un poema en el río,
y un río en el poema de mis primeros sueños.
And my childhood was all a poem in the river,
and a river in the poem of my first dreams.
JULIA DE BURGOS
PART ONE
FREEDOM
A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO THE NATIVE PEOPLE OF BORIKÉN
For thousands of years, the people who are now called Taíno lived by farming, fishing, hunting, singing, and dreaming of a future as free as the past. Men, women, and children believed in hope. The corners of fields held smooth sculptures to guard crops of manioc. The government was sophisticated and complex, with elaborate peacekeeping methods conducted by leaders called kacikes, and priests called behikes. On the walls of crystalline caves, beautiful designs were made by artistic hands. Enormous seagoing canoes carried visitors back and forth between Borikén (now known as Puerto Rico) and neighboring islands, such as Cuba and Quisqueya (now known as Hispaniola, which includes the Dominican Republic and Haiti). To this day, many Puerto Ricans still refer to their island as Borikén or Borinquen.
COURAGE
GUACARIGUA
Borikén, 1491
My mother says watch out for sharks
in the sea, caimans in the river, hurricanes,
scorpions,
crumbling cliffs …
but my greatest fear
is too little adventure,
not too much.
No matter how fervently my mother worries,
I need to explore, boldly trekking along all
the wild edges
of home.
There will be time enough
for caution
when I grow old.
DAYDREAMS
YAIMA
Borikén, 1491
Are all little girls
just as happy
as I am
when I swim
with quiet manatees,
telling them
enchanting stories?
HUNTER
ABEY
Borikén, 1491
My work is tiring, but we need ducks
to eat and crocodiles for making tools of teeth,
bags from skin, long strips of roasted meat …
Land, sea, and sky feed us,
so that we’re never really hungry,
except
after visits
from the guardian
of storms.
MUSIC FROM THE DEEP SEA AND HIGH SKY
GUAMO
Borikén, 1491
Mouth pressed
against a pink conch shell,
I play a song
to call
down
from
trees,
the rattle
of palm leaves
and festive squawks
of raucous parrots
as they join
my aerial
coral-reef
melody!
THE MAGIC OF CLOTH
ALAINA AND YULURI
Borikén, 1491
Daughter and mother,
we spin and weave
cotton fibers for capes
embroidered with feathers.
Are we bird-girls?
Yes, winged creatures
of the sort children meet
on a gentle morning
of enchanting stories.
THIS PEACEFUL FARM
YABU
Borikén, 1491
I plant manioc and corn,
the gifts of life.
Each field is a sacred place
where thirsty roots drink rain
and sighing leaves chant gratitude
to the generous sky
for food.
SHAPING CLAY
ARIMA AND GUAJUMA
Borikén, 1491
Twin sisters, we take turns
forming bowls
and jars
of wet earth
with our skillful fingers.
Then we trade places, painting
designs of red and yellow minerals
on each heat-dried surface
to create the warmth
of useful ceramics,
our wealth.
PART TWO
SURVIVORS
A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO CONQUEST AND RESISTANCE
In 1492, an Italian invader called Cristoforo Colombo (also known as Cristóbal Colón and Christopher Columbus), arrived in the so-called “new world” with Spanish soldiers, fearsome weapons, European diseases, and a desire for spices to flavor European foods.
Islanders defended their homeland, but the conquistadors were brutal newcomers who understood nothing, unable to speak any native languages or respect traditions of peace and friendship.
Men, women, and children captured by Spanish invaders in West Africa were transported to the Caribbean islands on horrific ships. Enslaved people from many African nations were forced to work alongside the enslaved Taínos. Within a few generations, hundreds of thousands of Caribbean islanders were slaughtered by weapons or disease, and most of those who survived carried a blend of Indigenous, African, and Spanish ancestry, creating a unique mixture of languages and cultures.
Meanwhile, Spanish invaders spread out in every direction, killing or enslaving millions of native people from thousands of Indigenous nations in North, Central, and South America.
CONQUEST MEANS CRUELTY
PEDRO DE ACEVEDO
Puerto Rico, 1493
As the cabin boy on this ship,
I am a witness to the excitement
of Colón, whose first journey reached
other islands.
Now, this second voyage brings us reality.
It won’t be easy to find the spice trees we seek.
When I see a boy around my age,
I learn his name, Guacarigua.
He will be one of the captives,
a person enslaved.
DEFIANCE
GUACARIGUA
Puerto Rico, 1493
Our home is ours,
not theirs.
My freedom
can’t be destroyed
by these monsters.
Their shields of hard metal
and those long, two-bladed knives
aren’t enough to keep me
from running away
seeking
REBELLION
URAYOÁN EL CACIQUE
Puerto Rico, 1511
Invaders demand a tribute
of four golden hawk’s bells
per person
per year.
The glow of yellow stone is their only greed now,
all those early demands for spice trees
completely
forgotten.
Gold nuggets have already been mined
from every river, but we are still enslaved,
and our children are dying of smallpox,
so I dream up a plan for escape by inviting
lonely soldiers to the shore of a lake,
where I promise to introduce them
to women who will be their wives.
I’m a leader, the kacike, so they believe me,
but instead of matchmaking,
I tell my people to drown a Spaniard,
and then we rise up, fighting for freedom,
until the troops of a brute called Ponce de León
attack us with cannons, lances, crossbows, muskets,
growling mastiffs,
and galloping
horses.
We have our own weapons,
light bows and arrows,
heavy war clubs,
and the weightless
sky
of
soaring
hope.
FEROCITY
JUAN PONCE DE LEÓN
Puerto Rico, 1511
My sword.
Shiny metal.
My armor.
Glittering wishes.
* * *
I seize men, women, and children
to work in the mines, but some dive into rivers
and twirl away
as swiftly
as dolphins …
* * *
No matter, here are more.
I’ll always find enough men, women, and children
to enslave, people to slice hills and mountains
in search of gold, silver, copper,
and jewels.
ESCAPE
SERAFINA
Puerto Rico, 1511
When the first Agüeybaná was alive,
he tried to get along with the brutal invaders,
showing them where to sift flakes of gold
from rivers. Then he died, and his brother
became Agüeybaná II, our rebel leader.
He almost succeeded, trying to defend
my Taíno mother’s village,
where brave men and women killed hundreds
of my Spanish father’s
armored soldiers.
I’m just a girl, still small enough
to slip away into the silent forest, hidden
by shadows of peaceful trees that don’t care
about my two battling origins.
SURVIVAL
GUACARIGUA
Puerto Rico, 1520
The highest
most isolated
slopes.
Trickling streams instead of rushing rivers.
Stillness—then one softly whistling bird.
Or is that delicate music the song of another
survivor, pretending to be winged?
When I meet the runaway girl called Serafina,
I know that I will love her forever, and our future
will be safe here in this secret place
of sheltering trees
and hidden villages.
NEVER ENOUGH
JUAN PONCE DE LEÓN
Florida, 1521
Taínos, Africans,
gold, silver, copper—these people
are now thoroughly conquered, so I sail,
while others around me claim
that I plan my new voyage
only in search of magical waters,
a mysterious
fountain of youth …
even though my own truth
is so much simpler, just this ravenous
craving
for shiny minerals,
the glistening metals
of wealth.
IMAGINARY WEALTH
ESTEBANICO DE DORANTES
Texas, 1539
A dying explorer, I murmur news
of the wonders I’ve seen in this northern desert—
or wonders merely imagined—for how
can the feverish mind separate truth
from wishes?
Cíbola, city of turquoise and precious metals,
sparkling
in the distance …
For centuries after my death
surely every invader will seek
this fanciful land that I describe
so easily, allowing my name to live on
in glowing legends,
if not in the solid gold
of life.
POWER
JUAN DE OÑATE
&nb
sp; New Mexico, 1598
I was born in New Spain, not Europe.
My family owns a silver mine in Zacatecas.
My wife is the granddaughter of Hernán Cortés,
who conquered the Aztec emperor Moctezuma—
but my wife is also the great-granddaughter
of that same defeated native emperor.
She’s a mixed-race mestiza, child of two enemies,
such a fitting origin
for the mother of soldiers.
When King Felipe II of Spain orders me to claim
all the lands north of the Río Grande, I ride my horse
across a wide, shallow river, hoping for the riches
of Cíbola, where natives are said to dress themselves
in emeralds and gold.
Imagine my dismay
when all I find are ordinary towns,
small pueblos lit by the golden sun, surrounded
by cornfields
and bean vines.
•
My disappointed men threaten mutiny,
so I keep them marching farther and farther,
determined to be remembered
as the founder of cities—El Paso
and Santa Fe.
My legacy of strength will be built
atop ancient villages filled with the farms
and bones
of conquered tribes.
My wife calls me brutal
and greedy.
VICIOUS
VICENTE DE ZALDÍVAR
New Mexico, 1598
As Juan de Oñate’s nephew, I march