I am my own worst enemy.

It was one of those epiphanies that came to me when I was dreading meeting up with former schoolmates that are either married, living on their own, or have a glamorous job in the city. By complaining or thinking negatively, I’ve set up many roadblocks and obstacles to my path of success.

When I compare myself to others, I feel miserable. It certainly doesn’t help that eight couples I know have recently become engaged. There is so much I complain about: I still live at home; I don’t know whether I’ll be accepted to a graduate program I applied to; I’m not sure when I’ll get engaged or married. Instead of thinking positively, focusing on all the good things happening in my life, my default setting usually is “woe is me.”

Instead of confronting my fears and gauge where my negative thoughts come from, I typically retreat from an event or situation that causes anxiety – which explains why in a transcript full of A’s, I always pulled C+’s and B’s for math classes – I always waited till the last minute to study or do my algebra and geometry homework.

Part of the negative thinking comes from being afraid to let go of the past. I sometimes hold on to people or events like a figurative safety blanket, clenching my fists around it tightly. Sometimes my fear is that I’m not “good enough” for something. Who needs schoolyard bullies? I have a negative “voice” constantly nagging me, beating me up emotionally. “You’ll never do that,” it says. “You’re not good/smart/pretty enough.” Many times I’ve fallen victim to it.

Last month I began writing in a gratitude journal; it was something my co-worker suggested, saying it has helped her think positively and discover what she’s thankful for. Writing affirmations and “positive thoughts” has been a challenging exercise, but it is better than being stuck in a rut – or paralyzed by negative thinking.

Or spending my life being my own worst enemy.

Latinos and our history — what makes us unique? Is it our language that comes from Spain? Or our music that is intertwined with African rhythms that come from the Caribbean? Is it the architecture that comes from Europe? Or is it the exotic spices we taste when eating our food? Or is it the destroyed artifacts and cultures that the Spanish took from our Tainos, Incas and Mayans/Aztecs? Or is it the overcoming of atrocities made against us in modern history?

I often sit and ponder the differences between us and anyone else that was conquered. How our lives are different yet the same in this perverse world where a “superior culture” impose their selves in the name of God. I often question myself for being a Christian. Yes, I question my faith, not why I believe in Christ, but I question how I learned about Christianity. Why were my people (Mayans) killed, tortured and raped because they were believed to live savagely. As an adult the Latino history seems so sad that it hurts knowing what I know. Knowing that my religious beliefs were introduced by a cross and a gun and my people were slaughtered for being different, is what ills me.

We know that the Spaniards came to the New World by accident. Yet we have Columbus Day and not Cesar Chavez Day. We know they tortured and killed and passed on disease after disease until nearly everyone was eradicated. Then, as our countries in South and Central America fought for their independence, the United States was becoming a powerful nation largely due to free labor from the assistance of slavery. As America grew and it dealt with its self ugliness and continued to spread hatred to people who were different from Anglo Saxon males, we became a target. A constitution was written about the equality of men in this country that was and is not true. The Jim Crow laws didn’t just affect African-Americans; it affected Mexicans and Puerto Ricans whose land was stolen.

In 1898, after the Caribbean was clearly on its way to winning the war against Spain, the United States placed itself in a war that was none of their business. A fabricated explosion aboard the U.S.S. Maine gave the U.S. the perfect opportunity to join a war far along and already decided. The U.S. then wanted Cuba because of Cuba’s proximity to the conflict and its resources, mainly sugar since that was the most lucrative trade at the time and it was what the U.S and Cuba traded most between each other. So, after it was all said and done, the United States took over Puerto Rico and Guam through the treaty of Paris of December 1898. And just like that, an autonomous country that was known as Puerto Rico, with its own stamp, own currency and own flag (which defines a nation by the way) becomes a commonwealth of the United States. Then we have the invasion of the corporations that imposed Operation Bootstrap (the industrialization of Puerto Rico) and the testing and bombs in Vieques.

Ironically, 50 years earlier, Mexico went through their war with the United States and was lied to and cheated. Those damn Mexicans I tell you, always causing trouble for Americans (obviously I’m being facetious)! But in 1846, after many dealings with America and the American desire to purchase Texas for expansion and, of course, the cultivation of cotton, the Mexican government had to make a decision. Being that Mexico City was far from Texas, there was no real Mexican population that was occupying that state. Funny that I’m about to say this but Americans knowing this illegally moved into Texas before the Mexican government allowed it.

But what they failed to realize was that now that they were in Mexican territory, Americans had to abide by Mexican law. And of course you can’t tell an American that! How dare they??!!! Americans didn’t have freedom of religion, since Mexico’s religion was Roman Catholic. Also, the Mexican government was a big proponent of cultivating beef, corn, and grain, not cotton. And not only that, but if you cultivate in Mexico you trade with the Mexican government first. But wait, there’s more.

Slavery was abolished in Mexico in 1836 and Mexicans assisted slaves escaping the south to Mexico and allowed them to own land. Oh man, talk about making the U.S. angry. So, if you moved to Mexico, you would give up freedom of religion, you couldn’t own slaves and you couldn’t cultivate cotton, which was the biggest export to Europe, where’s the fun in that? So, after several disputes as to what the border of Mexico was and wasn’t, the United States, under General Zachary Taylor, ordered his soldiers to go past the Mexican-recognized border, which was the Nueces River, north of Rio Grande. Mexican soldiers on a routine patrol noticed American soldiers on their side of the border. They warned that they would open fire and when the Americans didn’t respond, they fired.

Now, this was the excuse needed to go to war with Mexico. Mexico didn’t want to sell Texas and California to America and Americans didn’t want to adhere to Mexico’s rules while living in Texas. So, in the eyes of General Taylor and in the eyes of President Polk, this act of terrorism was what they needed to justify a war with Mexico (sounds vaguely familiar to something in more recent history, can’t put my finger on it, but terrorism, justification for war, I don’t know…) and the Democratic Congress thought, this would increase the number of slave states.

This actually was terrible for Mexico because of its own political struggle. In 1846 alone, Mexico had four presidents and six secretaries of defense. Eventually Mexico lost the war in less than two years. The Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo has been considered the greatest upfront cover-up the United States has ever done…oh wait, they would do it again in 1898. But the Treaty specifically said that Mexicans residing on U.S. soil at the time of the treaty would be considered U.S. citizens (that was later annulled after the signature of the Luis de la Rosa, Foreign Minister of Mexico) and that those living in the new U.S. would receive grants to cultivate their land, also annulled after the signature. As the evolution of Jim Crow against African-Americans grew, so did the separate but “equal” laws affecting Mexicans in those states formerly known as their country.

Now, you ask why I am writing this? Because I’m tired of us acting like we’re not one culture being victimized by the United States Government. Two stories 50 years apart with the same fraud and same result. More than 100 years after 1898 and 160 years after 1846, is there anycoincidence why Puerto Ricans and Mexicans are both at the bottom of the education and economic structure in the U.S.? Think about that. What else do we need to unite?

And don’t let me start talking to what the U.S. has done to Guatemala, El Salvador, Panama, and Nicaragua. We need to understand that Cesar Chavez and Pedro Albizu Campos, although different in method, were fighting for the same rights! My degree in multi-cultural studies doesn’t make me an expert in wars and treaties, but it does open my eyes as to how our people, both Puerto Ricans and Mexicans, have been victimized by the U.S. I hope that this opens the eyes to some, that only because one culture elongates their vowels (Mexicans) and others eat their consonants (Puerto Ricans) and one listens to Rancheros and the others to Salsa, that we are not different. We are ONE!

Ever since I was a young, I have always looked forward to the month of February. The reason is that it has such a cultural and historical significance for me. As a Dominican American and an Afro-Latino, I embrace the month of February as both Black History Month and Dominican Heritage Month. February is Black History Month due to the expansion in 1976 of Negro Heritage Week into a month-long celebration of Black History. February is Dominican Heritage Month because Dominicans Independence Day is on February 27 and the celebration has since expanded into a month-long celebration of Dominican heritage.

Many other Dominican Americans share the same sentiment as I do of the importance of celebrating both our Dominican heritage as well as our African heritage in February. According to Dominican census data, 84% of the population in the Dominican Republic has African ancestry. Virtually every major Latin American country has African history and African influence in its culture. This make February an important month for the millions of Afro-Latinos who live in the U.S.

When I think of the month of February, I think of my father, Dr. James A. Wilson, who graduated from La Universidad Autonoma de Santo Domingo Medical School (a.k.a. “La UASD”) in 1956. In November 2006, my mother and I accompanied my father to Santo Domingo for his 50th Year Class Reunion of La UASD Medical School graduating class of 1956. I felt compelled to join him because I admire and celebrate my father’s amazing story of growing up dirt poor in the Batey Central of Barahona, Dominican Republic under a racist dictator Rafael Trujillo. Despite the overwhelming adversities that my father had to overcome, he graduated as the only Black Dominican medical student from La UASD in that graduating class.

When my father immigrated to the U.S. to do his medical residency work in 1957, he found himself experiencing and witnessing the Civil Rights movement in the U.S. He told me of his stories of racial discrimination both in the U.S. and in the Dominican Republic towards Blacks and how he would not let that get in the way of his goals and dreams of becoming a medical doctor. My father’s experiences are ones that are familiar to many Afro-Latinos in the United States . . . double discrimination, because you are Black and because you are a Latino.

Today, my father still shows me his La UASD class photo as a reminder to never forget that I am Dominican American and that my heritage traces back to Africa. It’s obviously not hard for anyone to figure out who in that 1956 class photo is my dad.

My father would eventually go on to have a successful career as a community physician in the Washington Heights section of Manhattan, where I was born. He practiced medicine for 40 years in Washington Heights and only in the last few years did he retire. He became a role model for many Dominican physicians who would later follow my dad and immigrate to the U.S. and start their own medical practices.

But my father is role model for me for a different reason . . . because he is a proud Afro-Latino and is not shy to embrace his African roots as well as his Dominican heritage. Watching and listening to him taught me as a young boy growing up in the very culturally and racially diverse community of Bergen County that February was a double blessing for me. I got to celebrate Black History Month and Dominican Heritage Month at the same time.

My family raised me very Dominican. I embraced bachata, merengue, and especially Perico ripiao because of its African influence in the music. Waking up Saturday mornings to mangú con queso or arroz con leche was very customary for my family. Having arroz con habichúelas (o gandules) con pollo y plátanos (maduros o fritos) for dinner was normal. While having dinner, I was always reminded by my father that I must work twice as hard as my Caucasian counterparts because I was Dominican, Latino, and Black. Nothing was going to be handed to me. I would have to excel to achieve my dreams and goals. When I told him that my dream was to work on Wall Street and be a positive political influence in my community, he said “Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do and don’t be afraid to be a stand-out leader”.

It seemed so appropriate when Black Enterprise Magazine did a story in February 2004 titled “The Afro-Latino Connection.” That was the issue where I shared the cover page with Hollywood actress Gina Torres. The timing of the magazine article was so appropriate because it happened in the month of February. It’s amazing to me that almost four years later, I still get pulled aside from people who remember me from the B.E. cover, expressing positive feedback for that article because it raised the awareness that there are millions of Afro-Latino who celebrate both our Latino and African heritage.

Today, I continue to follow in my father’s footsteps. I am Life Member of the NAACP and a President’s Council member of the National Council of La Raza (NCLR). I was the National President of the Dominican American National Roundtable (DANR) in Washington, DC and I’m a founding boardmember of Dominicans On Wall Street (DOWS). When I was in college, I was the only student to mentor both African-American and Latino students as an upper classman at The Ohio State University. I marched in the Million Man March on October 16, 1995 with my NAACP colleagues and I marched on April 10, 2006 at Liberty State Park for the National Day of Action For Immigrant Justice with my Latino brothers and sisters. I believe that my success is rooted in the fact that I grew up celebrating my rich Latino and African heritage, especially in February.

So as we continue to progress through the culturally-significant month of February, I urge all Latinos to participate in the many activities that help raise the awareness of the rich history of African influence in our Latino culture. I, for one, am blessed and thankful to my African and Latino ancestors who overcame so many challenges so that I could get the opportunity to achieve my dream of working on Wall Street and eventually proving to the skeptics that a Black Latino could be a #1 ranked Wall Street financial analyst and still find time to give back to our community professionally, culturally, and personally. When the day comes that I have children, I will pass along to them the rich Afro-Latino values that my parents instilled in me.

I wish everyone a very blessed February.

I heard a prophet once say “procrastination is the assassination of your motivation.” I would add that with lack of education and preparation, there is no room for participation.

When it comes to this year’s presidential candidates, I have mixed feelings about them. I may not know in depth what the real situation of our country is, however every day I educate myself on the pertinent issues. I am very curious to see the results of this year’s election. Whoever wins — whether it’s Obama, Hillary, or McCain — is going to have a hard time cleaning the eight years of disaster we just lived. To make matters worse, the nation is starving for change and thirsty for a revolution. People are so desperate for life to be different that anyone who brings forth that promise is sure to keep them hooked. Despite our hunger for change, I question if there will be any immediately. We live in a nation where our youth has been formerly labeled as apathetic and unreachable.*

Why is it that we depend on other individuals or - since we’re talking about the elections coming up - depend on politicians for change? We look at the speck in everyone’s eye, but can’t even notice the plank in our own. We criticize politicians and say, “I hate politics,” but we don’t even vote. We don’t even do the research to make a valid decision or statement. Change needs to happen in us first.

The other night I was looking outside my window and was thinking about the New Year. Sermons in my head kept repeating the preached message: 2008 is the year of new beginnings and open doors. I came to the conclusion that the new beginning needs to happen to an individual first, before any can be seen at a larger scale.

Everyone has a role to bring change. You don’t need to be the president of America or the top executive of a major corporation to inspire change. You don’t! If we really want change and if we really are bothered by an issue than we should get up and do something about it. We should not take action just to add it to our resume, or just because we need more hours to complete the total amount of events required by Greek organizations. We should take action because there is a burning desire in us to really help someone out, to spread awareness, or to educate a nation. Get up and GO!

I strongly believe that if individuals were to start the change within them, they would have a more focused purpose. An individual is not capable of changing or saving the entire world. However, we all have a purpose in life. If we were all walking in our calling any small change we take care of causes a revolutionary wave around the world.

Ghandi once said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.” He did not say “do” the change. He said be. Change can happen, if we look within first.

* The Cornell Daily Sun, http://cornellsun.com/node/27225

Columbus and his mangy crew may have brought bacalao (salted codfish) to the New World but Carmen Robles perfected it in her bacalao y berenjena (eggplant) dish. This dish does not take long to prepare and is delicious. Give it a try!

Berenjena y Bacalao

Ingredients

2 pounds dried salted codfish (bacalao)
2 medium berenjena (eggplants)
3 large cloves of garlic or one tablespoon pure garlic powder
Manteca de achiote or 1½ packs of Sazon con achiote
Half can tomato sauce
One medium onion
Dash of pepper

One baking dish
One heavy duty large pan

Cut eggplant lengthwise and bake face down with a small bit of water at 350 degrees for about half hour or until tender. Peel eggplant and remove as many seeds as possible then cut into bite size pieces. Place to side.

Boil codfish 2 times to get rid of most of the salt. The first time, drop in codfish after water boils for 10 minutes. Then boil it again with fresh water for 20-25 minutes. This should remove most of the salt.

Break up codfish into small bite-size pieces and place in bowl with eggplant.

In hot pan place 2 tablespoons of manteca de achiote or, if this is not available, coat bottom of pan with olive oil and add a pack and a half Sazon Goya with achiote. Then add crushed garlic and chopped onion; cook until onion is translucent. Stir in eggplant and codfish and tomato sauce; mix well. Cook for about 10-15 minutes and serve with white rice.

In Latino cultures especially Puerto Rican we sometimes talk about being enbacalao. We are having a bad day or bad luck. Things just aren’t smelling right. That’s what I am blogging about this time; a bad mojo between people with disabilities and those who temporarily don’t have a disability. Let’s break down another barrier in hopes of creating a better world to live in.

You ever get the feeling that people are uncomfortable around you? That what you do and say makes them feel uneasy and sometimes embarrassed? We have all been there at one time or another — whether crossing that racial divide or meeting someone new. So how do you feel if you think you’re making people uncomfortable a great deal of the time?

I know I make my mother Carmen uncomfortable when I drive and she is my passenger. Here is a little glimpse into my drive with Carmen.

I wheel into my lift and push the buttons on it “up and in.” Once in the van I roll my wheelchair right in front of the steering wheel. My chair auto locks to the floor and I work the digital control pad to start and shift.

No sooner do I start my car than I hear Carmen, “Padre nuestro que estas en los cielos …” This praying goes on for a good 10 minutes at which point I begin to think: She does not seem too comfortable. She never gets very comfortable.

During Turnpike drives she likes to gently tap me. Why? “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t sleeping.” Holy crap! Why the heck would I be sleeping and driving?

If I listen to NPR she says, “Que es esa porqueria? Don’t you have Spanish stations?”

Honestly, no matter what you hear my driving is not that bad.

I know I make some people uncomfortable. More importantly I have come to believe that a little discomfort by someone else does not bother me a bit. In fact, it can be used as a “learning tool” for the “socially challenged.”

Why do I think I make people uncomfortable? you ask.

For readers of this blog who don’t know me, my presence can be a bit daunting at first. I am a hefty Puerto Rican in a motorized wheelchair and most of the time I travel with my service dog, Janus (to learn more about service dogs go to www.cci.org).

Needless to say many people who see me for the first time think one of a few things such as:

God this guy is so courageous.
Mira Juan, this guy in a wheelchair has a full-time job and you can’t even get a bagging job at Twin City.
Believe and you will walk again!
Holy crap shouldn’t this guy be home in a hospital bed?

People with disabilities are either heroes, non-believers, or sickly. It is our job to make categories and neat boxes we can fit groups of people into. In some cases these categories are developed by long-standing cultural beliefs and traditions, many which are alive and well in many of our countries.

I am here to crush your neat boxes and to kick your misconceptions right were it hurts. I want to rip traditions which claim that it is better to pity the cripple than empower the citizen with a disability. Traditions which thrive on a caste system of social inequality so damaging to the psyche, that many cannot bear the burden they have become. I am not only talking of Latinos but also of the “mainstream,” which profess ideological superiority on issues of equality, but fall short in practice.

Are you thinking Javier is being a little harsh? What’s he complaining about? He has handicapped parking.

I supposed it is a frustration that develops from the day one acquires a disability. It slowly builds and builds and builds then one day you either scream out the window or write this blog. There is a serious need to reevaluate the significance and value of people with disabilities. Not how they make us feel when they miraculously walk out of their wheelchair but how they make us feel when we know they will always be in a wheelchair. I am not discouraging hope, prayer or a belief in a higher power. What I am saying is that the first steps to improving our relationship with people with disabilities are acceptance and power sharing.

Acceptance of the person’s disability seems simple but it carries implications that challenge our traditional misconceptions. The ones no one knows about. The fear to approach someone with a disability, to talk with them and to offer friendship. Worse still, the fact that I am one car accident away from having a disability. Acceptance comes only when one forgets everything you never knew you learned.

So what about power-sharing? My hermanos y hermanas, we in the Latino/a community are only beginning to understand the importance of having a stake in this country’s future. Across the board it is our responsibility to offer every member of the community a portion of our progress. In reality, for people with disabilities it starts with access and ends with jobs. There is too little of either to go around. Moreover, when people such as myself do have access and jobs, we must contend with discrimination from all sectors top to bottom. Do not be fooled — success still has a price. While women have managed to some extent to break through the “glass ceiling,” people with disabilities who are working are buried under a “concrete ramp” pointed straight down. Insuring that Latinos with disabilities are part of our economic and political fabric strengthens us. It allows for growth and power-sharing.

Many of us understand what it’s like to feel like outsiders right within our own communities. That’s what it’s like every day for people with disabilities in this country. To be overlooked and undervalued causes a strong feeling of worthlessness. I — like many other people with disabilities — refuse to be put in a box and labeled for the convenience of others. Family members and friends of people with disabilities are the first line of education about the abilities and contributions that people with disabilities have and will continue to make.

In order to be inclusive we must re-examine ourselves and organizations as they relate to disability inclusion. Many of our leaders feel that it’s okay not to have a ramp, accessible bathrooms, or an inclusive attitude. However, empowerment and power-sharing begin at the basest level and sometimes that means getting people with disabilities into your front door. People with disabilities should not just be viewed as consumers or clients; they should be on their boards and making decisions.

No one wants to be enbacalao. Therefore, treat everyone as you would want to be treated

On Friday, February 15, Nielsen Media Research released its study identifying the impact of the digital conversion that will take place one year from now — February 17, 2009. At that time, full-power broadcast stations will stop broadcasting an analog signal and transmit only a digital signal. Homes that get their television programming over an antenna and do not have a digital TV set will not be able to get a picture unless they purchase a special converter box. According to Nielsen, 13 million households in the U.S. receive television programming over the air on non-digital TV sets. Another 6 million households contain at least one television that is non-digital. Due to the mandatory conversion imposed by the federal government on the broadcast stations, millions will need converter boxes within a year or else face a complete blackout of television programming. Residents with cable or satellite television do not have to worry about the conversion because their cable or satellite company will convert the signal.

Latinos are nearly twice as likely to be adversely impacted by the mandatory conversion as other segments of our population. Based on Nielsen’s study, 10.1% of all households would have no access to television signals if the transition occurred today. Broken down by race, this translates to 8.8% of whites; 11.7% of Asians; 12.4% of blacks; and 17.3% of Latinos.

The fact that nearly one in five Latinos will lose their television signal unless they convert should be of grave concern. For many in our community who do not use computers or own vehicles with radios, the only source of information is the television set, especially for Latinos who rely on Univision and Telemundo for their news. In the event of an emergency, one in five Latinos will not be informed.

The reality is that the reason so many Latinos are at risk of losing their television signal is because of the high cost of a digital TV and the rising cost of cable television. Many immigrant and working-class Latinos have to prioritize their expenses to pay for things such as rent, food, and other key living necessities. While in my opinion a television is a necessity, many working-class Latinos do not have the luxury of paying for cable television or purchasing a high definition television. Now this segment of our community is at risk of being left out of communication unless the government does more to help prepare for the digital conversion.

The National Telecommunication and Information Administration (NTIA), a division of the U.S. Department of Commerce, needs to do more to raise the awareness of this conversion. Converter boxes are available at most electronic stores for about $60, but the government offers coupons worth $40 that can be used towards the purchase. However, the NTIA admits on its own website that there is not enough funding to give everyone who needs a converter box a coupon, which means that either Congress will have to increase funding for the program or the coupon program will run out and leave our community without television service.

To request a coupon, consumers can apply online at https://www.dtv2009.gov or call the 24-hour hotline, 1-888-DTV-2009 (1-888-388-2009). We need to raise the awareness of this potential hidden crisis that could impact Latinos the most. As we get closer to the February 17, 2009 deadline, we need to be watchful of how much funding is left for the coupon program. If we begin to hear that the NTIA is running out of funding, we will need to urge Congress and the next President of the United States that they need to do more to keep members of our community from losing their television signal.

Before I met Ted, my boyfriend of a year and a half (who shares my disdain for Valentine’s Day), I dated an interesting cast of characters. So if you find yourself single, upset with your significant other, or working this Valentine’s Day, at least you’re not dating one of these guys…

Turnpike Mike

A couple of months after my breakup with my ex Eric in late 2005, I dated different people, trying desperately to look for “the one” that would help me forget Eric. So one day as I paid my toll, I mustered up the courage to give the handsome 22-year-old toll man my number.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

I had seen him many times while paying the toll before: the slightly muscular, cream-colored man with a friendly grin and dark bluish green eyes.

“Um, I wanted to give you this,” I said, handing him a folded up Turnpike receipt with my cell phone number on the back.

I drove off so fast, I didn’t wait to hear his response. But then my phone rang five hours later and “Turnpike Mike,” as he called himself, said he was interested in me.

There was just one problem: the phone wouldn’t stop ringing. He called several times a day, even when he was at work collecting tolls.

“So when are we gonna go out?” he asked. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

My usual white lies included: “I’m working late” or “I’ve made plans with friends.” But once I exhausted my excuses, I came up with, “I can’t go out tonight – I’ve got to do my taxes,” as my former colleague Sonja giggled in the background. He got the message and never called again.

Haddonfield Hottie

I gingerly applied red glitter lipstick, a red scarf with white hearts, a cotton red skirt that fell just above the knee, and a soft pink long-sleeved shirt. I looked more like a candy bar than a sexy vixen as I waited for Mike (yes, another Mike!) to pick me up for our Valentine’s date in 2003.

Mike was a thin, bashful, blonde-haired blue-eyed South Jersey boy who took two political science classes back to back with me. When he impressed me with his Spanish-speaking skills, I befriended him and he soon asked me out for Valentine’s.

My heart was ready to come out of my mouth when I saw Mike approaching the front door to my dorm with a rose and a teddy bear. “Esto es para ti,” he said in slightly accented Spanish.

But the date was less than great. While I liked the Italian film with English subtitles we watched, I felt uncomfortable with the fact that his roommate munched on chips and typed away on his computer while we were on our “date.” Mike and I couldn’t kiss or hold hands without feeling awkward.

Though Mike seemed interested in me, a few weeks later he said he “wasn’t ready” for a relationship, and avoided me in our classes.

Alex the Stalker

Riding on a bus on my way to my Northern New Jersey home for the weekend in late 2003, I struck up a conversation with Alex, a newspaper photographer who had recently emigrated from Venezuela. Since we both had journalism backgrounds, we talked about careers and school and I didn’t think twice when he offered to walk me home.

“Can I get your number? I need someone to practice English with, and I don’t have many friends here,” said Alex, 27, a brown-haired brown-eyed 5’8” man.

“Sure,” I responded, thinking he was harmless.

During the next two weeks, he called at least 10 times each day. When I did pick up, I told him firmly that I was taking classes or working at my college paper, and had no time for him.

But that didn’t deter him and one weekend when I came home to study, I found him standing by my front porch.

“You’re never home. I always knock on the door and see your cat and dog by the window but you’re never here. Maybe you’ll invite me to dinner so I could meet your parents?” he asked. I was still in shock, scared that he would return to harm my parents or my animals since he knew where I lived.

My lips quivered as I told him to leave me alone and if he failed to do so, I would call the police.

He was angry and called me “an immature 20-year-old,” but he did stop calling.

A few months after that, he spotted me on a bus and sat next to me, only to declare in front of the 20 passengers on the bus that “he had found a girlfriend even though I broke his heart.”

Good riddance.

This election year has been full of surprises. In one party, an unlikely candidate emerged after his campaign was all but abandoned by political pundits. In the other party, a black man and a woman are dueling it out to win their party’s nomination. What a few months ago seemed like David vs. Goliath has turned into a modern Red Sox vs. Yankees match. All of this and it’s only February!

The most impressive fact about this election season, however, is the number of people who are coming out to vote. The turnout this year has been higher than in previous years. There are several reasons for this: 1) There is no incumbent president or vice-president who is running for president in either party; 2) people are genuinely interested in their party’s candidates; and 3) people are just looking forward to elect a new president in November. Regardless of the reasons for the excitement or results of the election, I believe that this election has sparked lasting energy to my generation because young people are participating in the political process like never before.

I am excited about this because throughout high school and college, teachers and professors made a clear distinction between their generation and mine. These professors made it clear that activism during their adolescence was much more active than my generation and, in turn, my generation was apathetic. They cited the American Civil Rights movement, which included the civil rights, the human rights, and social rights movements as their generational accomplishments. Movements powered by people who were vocal and passionate on a cause. And because of their actions they changed the ways of the country. It wasn’t to one person’s credit, but to all the people who rallied valiantly and stood for change.

Now, comparing one generation with another is a tricky thing. I don’t want to say that one generation is better than another, but I want to prove that this generation is active and not apathetic. My generation is actively speaking its mind and having its voice heard. But it is using a completely different approach than past generations and it’s due to technology.

The technological medium that has been added in our time is the internet. The internet has changed the way people communicate and organize. Just think of how people join a chatroom and are then able to speak to people from around the world. Less than fifteen years ago this seemed unfathomable. Because of the internet, however, more people are writing their thoughts than in any other point in history. People are writing about anything and everything and it’s amazing. They write in blogs, social networks, chatrooms, forums, reviews, comments, messages, and yes, even by poking (it is a way to communicate). Never before in history could you find so many different to express your opinions

How does all this connect? The larger turnout in these primary election has occurred because the candidates realized the importance of technology in the race. Life was injected into the race when the candidates stopped using only television, radio and newspapers to get out their campaign message, but used the internet to build political capital. Just look at the way Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton fundraised more than $7 million through their website in the three days after Super Tuesday.

These campaigns used the medium to focus on issues and bring us out. There has been much success in the campaign since 18-30 years old now account anywhere from 15-20% of the electorate (a large percentage block than previous years) and are being taken seriously by candidates who just assumed they wouldn’t vote. It can make that difference. We are making a difference in the way the campaign is financing itself and, most importantly, we are making a difference at the polls.

Not bad for being apathetic.

The news hit on Sunday. Patti Solis Doyle — Hillary’s Latina campaign manager — was out. I couldn’t believe my ears.

They’re saying it was her decision — Patti’s. They said it through an official statement and Hillary said it herself when questioned by reporters.

So let’s see if I have this straight. Patti – the sixth child of Mexican immigrants and the top Latina/o in the Clinton campaign who was in one of the most visible jobs in this whole wide world — decided to chill out just months before her boss could possibly make history by becoming the first woman elected U.S. President.

Right.

Campaign life is rough. Ask anyone who’s worked on one. You work seven days a week. No sleep. Eat crap in more ways than one. Your bills go unpaid. Your fellow staffers become your only family and friends. You have no life. It’s pathetic. And one can only imagine the intensity at the level of a national campaign.

But if you believe in your candidate, you stay on till the end because one of the sweetest things in life is savoring victory with the team after that long haul.

You stay on till the end — unless you’re dumped or forced out.

Sure Hillary’s campaign has taken some unexpected twists and turns. But a campaign is run by a team – not one person. So if a campaign is faltering, you have to look at the entire enchilada (sorry, I couldn’t help myself).

I’ll be curious to see if anyone else is shown la puerta (and yeah, I know they’re saying Patti will still be a senior advisor. Whatever.).

And to think this happened as Latinos are turning out in record numbers to cast votes for our next president.

As we say — Ya que estamos en el baile, bailemos.

But Latinos should be very clear: We’re going to dance to our own tune.

In fact, if you’re in the mood to do some dancing now, here’s a sample tune from one of the greatest Latinas who ever lived –  and she hailed from our Garden State.

Patti — we dedicate this next dance to you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eb40Zyo6PUY

What is it about politics that make some students run away? Is it that they lack information and therefore don’t have enough understanding to form an opinion? Or is it that the culture around them is so apathetic?

What is apathy and why does it seem as if our youth is living under an apathetic cloud?

As president of one of the most respected organizations on campus, Unión Latina, I made it my business to plan the entire year last semester. I knew from a start that the month of January, with its limited meetings, had to have a political focus.

During our first meeting we had over 50 students in the room; Latinos, African Americans, Indians, and even three foreign exchange students. I was proud that my team started the year on the right foot, with enthusiasm and hospitality, but I needed to make sure we stayed focus on exercising our mission. Most of our members are unaware of what is really going on, hence the reason why they don’t really have an opinion. Since February primaries were around the corner, we decided to organize a workshop for our second meeting entitled: “Politics 101”. I was so excited to arrange this workshop and was certain that we were going to have a great turn out. After finalizing the details we sent a reminder email informing them that a guest speaker was going to bless us with the basics of Politics. To my disbelief, there were only 15 people in the room. Part of me knows that the main reason that room was not as crowded as it always is was because of the topic of politics, but another part of me knew that half the people in our school is infected with one of the deadliest viruses around — apathy.

Apathy is simply the lack of concern and care for what is happening in the political and civic world. It is ignorance about domestic and world affairs on the part of the individual. Just as sick patients seek to eliminate their pervasive conditions, apathy is a complete civic disgrace that every person should seek to eliminate from his or her being. The Princeton Review once ranked The College of New Jersey (TCNJ) as one of the more politically apathetic colleges out there. It’s a shame that TCNJ is one of the most apathetic schools in the regions. The reality is that the average TCNJ student is not really intellectual. Conversations are more centered in pop culture, such as what is Jennifer Lopez up to next, when does Britney Spear plan to mature, or what are the exact moves for the soulja boy?

Most intellectual environments where one can deeply express their thoughts happen in selected classrooms with those few professors who are truly passionate about what they profess. Conversations are not really centered on politics unless you are in a political science class and, even there, your views and ideas are restricted by a self-centered educator who can’t realize that we are in the 21^st century.

I am so sick of the apathetic Latino culture we have here. People walk around like zombies seeking instruction, acting unconcerned and distant. Excellent speakers are brought to this school, yet nobody cares. Such dormancy breaks my heart. College is only a microcosm of what we will be living in the real world. If we are unwilling to step out of our comfort zone and hesitate to become aware, is there really hope for us in the real world?

There is talk but no action. Most students are focused on getting this internship, and that job, making this amount of money, but they lack basic communication skills. They can’t get along with the person next to them. They have no opinion of what is going on, and they would much prefer watching the football game. I am by no means degrading sports, but it’s easy to celebrate these “heroes” who have no power over our day to day situation, and we don’t even know the difference between our political representatives?

Why talk about change if we are not willing to change ourselves and step out of this apathy?