Latino Arts for Humanity

LATINO MIGRATION STORIES

WHY DID WE LEAVE?
HOW DO WE ARRIVE?
WHO ARE WE?

LATINO MIGRATION STORIES
This exhibit documents the migration stories of Latinos and Latinas who are living in Columbus and the surrounding areas. Our stories are diverse and demonstrate the complexity of our lives. Each story has its own form: Some of the stories are fragments of longing and desire. Other stories are fully illustrated with documents of our birth and immigration. Some stories include photographs of our past and present. Some of us had to leave the photographs behind, arriving with only our traveling clothes. Some of our stories are too sad to tell and so we invent new stories with better possibilities. Some of us share our success as inspiration for others. Ours are stories of hope, dislocation, survival, sacrifice, yearning, nostalgia, and creating ourselves anew.
In recent years, the Latino/a population in Columbus has increased dramatically. While long standing Latino/a communities were diverse, they were comprised of many from the middle-class, hailing from various countries of South American and the Caribbean. In contrast, the newer immigrants are mostly Mexican, working-class, many arriving without legal documents. Weaving older stories with newer ones, the Latino/a community remakes its image of itself.

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

Behind the scenes, new Latino/a immigrants take the jobs that “no one else wants.” Language and immigration status are barriers that limit opportunities. A common theme in our stories is our struggle with language and what it represents: the ability to be understood.
We continue to collect these stories in English and Spanish, to better understand ourselves and to promote understanding of our individual and collective identities. No one story can speak the Latino/a immigrant reality, but in the collection and exhibition of an ever-increasing number of stories, we begin to weave our diverse genealogies into a collective future as Latinos/as in Columbus, Ohio.
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Our Stories

From Oaxaca to Columbus, From Dish-washer to Cook

Don Primo (a pseudonym) in from the town of San Bernardo in Oaxaca Mexico. He arrived in Columbus in 1998. His brothers were already living in Columbus for 4 months. They came from Escondido, California. His brothers invited him to come to work and to get to know the place. If he didn't like it, he could return home. He arrived in January and immediately regretted his decision. The weather was too cold and, in the first 20 days, he could not find work. Then, he started washing dishes and soon was used to living here along with the weather. In time, he brought one of his sons telling him everything was well and would be worth it.
His trip started in Oaxaca via airline to Tijuana, Mexico. He stayed there for a week until meeting the person that would help him cross the border, by walking through the desert. A group of sixteen people walked for two days and two nights without food or water. Fortunately, everything went well and he arrived at his sister’s home in Escondido. The very next day he came to Columbus by plane. His sons came the same way without any problems and they have been reunited.

Don Primo is now a cook and has accustomed himself to life in Columbus. He tells others to consider the trip because even if you suffer, you also learn. He thinks the well-being of his family is much better here in Columbus. His family includes his wife and his five kids, who range in age from seven to seventeen.

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Promises Unfulfilled

Teresa Portales Robledo was born on October 3, 1948 in San Luis Potosí, Mexico. Her parents were Pedro Portales y Dominga R.de Portales. She was baptized on March 20, 1949 in el Santuario de Nuestra. Señora de Guadalupe. In 1962, when she was 13 years old and attending school, a young man, Tomás Chenhalls, spotted her and said “I'm going to marry that girl.” After Teresa finished school she worked as a secretary. Tomás would come and visit her, taking her for rides in the sporty cars he fancied. Ten years later (he was in the U.S. Army), he came back with a ring. On September 12, 1973 Teresa and Tomás were married. They had a civil and a church wedding as was tradition in Mexico Teresa married Tomás with the condition that they would live for two years in the US and then return to Mexico.

On their drive to Pontiac, Michigan they were stopped in Monterrey and questioned intensely, because her papers were not yet fixed. On the last day of September 1973, Teresa arrived in the United States. She missed home dearly, and could hardly wait for the years to pass when she would be able to return home. That November, marked her first “American” holiday, Thanksgiving. During this time, she cried nearly everyday, and was always sad because she missed Mexico so much. That Christmas her closest sister and her cousin Maria Elena came to visit her. They decided to bring her a little bit of Mexico with them and arrived at the airport with a piñata. That winter was her first winter with snow. Having nothing to do all day, while Tomás was at work, she would call her family in Mexico. Since her English was not good she had a “cheat” sheet that said: “I would like to make a call to San Luis, Mexico, capital S-A-N L-U-I-S.” Five years later, Teresa became a resident alien and took citizenship classes; she also began ESL classes. Now, twenty-eight years later, she has still not returned to Mexico. When asked if she would she said, “My girls are here now.”

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Escaping the Past/ Forging the Future

Digna Sorto is twenty-eight years old. She is from El Salvador and has lived in the United States since she was sixteen. Digna has lived in Columbus for two years. She moved here when her husband was transferred from Washington, D.C. They have three children together, which are eight, four and three years of age. Digna works in a hotel as a housekeeper, but since she speaks English so well she is thinking of possibly trying to get a different job.

Digna's mother died when she was twelve and her father remarried shortly thereafter. Digna was upset about this so when she turned sixteen she moved to Washington, D.C. to live with her sister. Most of her family now lives in Washington, D.C. so she rarely visits El Salvador. Digna said that she doesn't miss anything from El Salvador. She said that the opportunities here and the freedom have no comparison to anything that she had in El Salvador, and since most of her family is in Washington, D.C. she has nothing to go back for.

Digna has three sisters and one brother. Her brother is quite a bit older than she is. Once she reached the fourth grade her brother would not let her go to school anymore. He was afraid that she would find a boyfriend, so he forbid her to finish school. She has been thinking about going back and getting her GED. Since she has been here she has taught herself English and is able to articulate herself very well. The only thing holding her back is she can't read or write in English, opposite of her eight-year-old son, who speak Spanish, but can't read or write it.

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Living in Another Language

I completed my bachelor's in Puerto Rico in Psychology and then my master's in Social Work. And I worked briefly for the government, basically, as a social worker in the health care system until I realized how much more I needed to really make a difference and help. So, I started exploring the possibilities of the doctoral program and that's how I ended up here.
…And for a while, oh it was very, very difficult, especially the first year because all of our knowledge of the English language is in the classroom. So, we took English classes every day, but as soon as you leave the classroom, that was it. And, ah, it's different when you have to be here in an English-speaking country, to communicate.
…But, I think that what made it very difficult was that I was in a doctoral program with ... everyone was English speaking. And I had a real hard time. At that time, I was still translating in my mind, for example. And that takes a lot of energy. And many times I lost a lot of opportunities, like by the time I realized that I had the translation of what I wanted to say and the contribution to the class, they were talking about something else. So, I really felt behind. First year, I remember, I would go home and I would feel as if I were, as if I had been working in a mine all day. It was exhausting. But, later on I read that that is the reality of people who work in a second language because it takes a lot of energy and translating.
María Juliá, Born and raised in Puerto Rico
Professor of Social Work, Ohio State University

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Family Connections

Jorge is from Mexico City but lived in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico. His economic situation was not well. He arrived in Columbus on Feb. 24th, 2001.
His cousin was already living here and told him to come. She offered him a job in her store. He traveled from Ensenada to Columbus even though it was very cold at the time. When he arrived, he thought he should get to know the place before deciding if he wanted to stay. His goal was to be here for one year. Now that the year is over, he has decided to work here for one more year.
Jorge is married with two sons, 17 and 19 years old. His family lives in Mexico City. They do not want to come here. Because of them, Jorge thinks he eventually return to Mexico City.
Speaking Spanish

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If I find somebody that speaks Spanish

If I find somebody that speaks Spanish, I would speak Spanish, before I would speak English . . . even at work, at the bank . . . because Ifind that a lot of people would not speak Spanish even though they have a heavy accent, and you know that is their primary language, they just feel like, you know, that you're [people in United States, English speakers] not going to accept them if they do. But if you live in a community that has a lot of Americans, you kind of act a little bit different so that you kind of fit in so you do not stick out so much.
Sandra Gomez was born in Dominican Republic

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Bank-teller

Mexico to Chicago to Columbus

Her name is Elsa, one of 12 children, born in El Despoblado, Mexico. After only a year and a half living in Columbus, she and her husband are the proud, hard-working owner of a profitable local Mexican grocery and taquería. Ironically, this self-made woman is not yet a US citizen and came here to Ohio as a result of many misfortunes and hard times. She and her husband met in Chicago, while she was working (illegally) in a plant nursery as a supervisor of a crew of Mexican workers. Sadly, after five years of service at this well-paying job that she really enjoyed, she was forced to leave because of an impending raid by Immigration and Naturalization.
She then went to work in a plastic factory where her wages were less than half of what she made as a supervisor at the plant nursery. The hours were long and exhausting. Unfortunately, Elsa came in contact with Immigration and Naturalization yet again. She was arrested and had to pay a fine of $1500.00 and hire a lawyer; she was able to stay and file for her Resident Alien card, otherwise known as the “green card.” At this time, her husband was supporting the family of three, because Elsa was staying at home with their infant son. Regrettably, the factory where he had been employed for eleven years went bankrupt and the family lost their only means of support.
Then they moved to Columbus and Elsa is content with her life in the United States and the success for which she and her family have worked so hard. She still considers herself to be mexicana and hopes that one day she will return to live in her tierra patria. But, life in Mexico is hard, because there is no work, which means no money.
Sientes una rabia…
Aquí hay mucho...muchas comodidades. Tu puedes tener tú carro, tú casa, tú trabajo. En México, es ir otra vez a lo mísmo... no hay trabajo... ¿después de donde te vaya a llegar el dinero? Sí, mi siento mexicana, pero también reconozco que por [los] Estados Unidos, tenemos todo. A pesar de que una extraña allá, que a veces me pongo nostalgo porque extraño a mis papas...Pero, quiero mucho aquí, quiero mucho allá…Hijole, no tienes ni idea como se siente...Sientes una rabia, una impotencia de saber que te vas al otro lado porque en tu país no puedes tener nada. Dejas tu vída allá, dejas todo. Hay que tener muchísimo valor para decir que voy a irme. No dejé a nadie... Tengo hermanos que deja a sus esposas y sus hijos allá por años para venirse par'acá. No dejé a nadie, yo sé que hay gente que siente más...
Elsa, Born in Mexico
Owner, Mexican Grocery and Taqueria

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The Home of Childhood Memories

Ileana Vermilyea was born in Puerto Rico in 1948. Her father was in the US military and the family lived in many different countries, eventually moving to the US. Most of her childhood was spent in Panama and she considers that country to be “home.”
Ileana is one of three children. The children were three years apart and always seemed to be going through different phases. Her brother was allowed to do almost anything he wished. At times, this double standard was frustrating for Ileana, especially when it came to dating. She did not let this stop her from dating and she soon found her own way of dealing with her father's rules. One of the rules she had to follow was whoever wished to go out on a date with Ileana needed to be “approved” by her father first. Ileana would bring a boy home to meet her mother first. This gave the boy a chance to get some insight from mom on how to deal with dad. Ileana found this to b successful in dating the boys she wanted to.
When asked how she identified herself, she said that she did not like the word “Hispanic,” she prefers “Latin American.” While in the military her father's journeys took them to Germany. Here she was faced with a question that startled her, and one that prior to she had not realized. Someone asked her where she was from and she replied “America.” The person then said, “which one”?

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Farmworker Origins

I was born on October 4, 1958 in McAllen, Texas to Constancia Estrada and Hilario Quintero. My father worked in a carrot factory in my young toddler years while my mother was a housewife. We migrated to Ohio in the early 1960s, when my youngest sister was born and I was about five years old. We resided in Michigan for awhile picking cherries, tomatoes, cucumbers, and apples. We then moved to Idaho and picked the famous Idaho potatoes. After Idaho, we migrated to Ottawa, Ohio. We picked tomatoes, cucumbers and worked the sugar beets. In the winter months my dad worked for a sugar beet factory. During this time, we lived in migrant camp sheds. We had no windows but we had screens to keep the bugs out of the camp shed. We had no running water and some electricity. By that time, there were three girls and a baby brother. We did not have enough money for a crib so my brother slept in a red wagon until he outgrew the little red wagon.
In 1968, the sugar beet factory closed down and those workers had an opportunity to work at a new factory named GTE Sylvania, Inc. Since my father was earning an income from a factory versus working in the fields, we had to move from the migrant camp sheds. It was sad to leave our friends and relatives and watch them struggle in the fields. My parents did not want us working in the fields all our lives. They wanted us to graduate from high school and further our education if we wish to do so.
Sylvia Quintero Flores Born in McAllen, Texas

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Too cold, Too expensive

Gaby is from Mexico City. She was nineteen years old when, motivated by her two sisters already living here, she decided to come to Columbus to learn English and to learn about a different culture. She arrived in January 1998 on an airplane. When she arrived, she did not like the cold. She did like the snow. And, she thought that everything was too expensive. She started working with one of her sister in a distribution warehouse and she started taking English classes. She stopped her classes after six months and took a trip to Europe. When she returned, she continued working. She continued to work in a family business. She likes this country’s economic level but sees no future in her life here. She cannot continue school because of language and economic limitations. She wants to return to Mexico this summer to continue her education.

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El Color de Columbus

Hoy Columbus tiene otro color para mi -un color multicultural- cuando voy al supermercado puedo hablar libremente en Espanol con mi esposo (que porcierto habla los dos idiomas), seguir caminando y ver que los ultimos chiles verdes se los llevo otra senora que platica felizmente en Espanol con su hija, que le contesta en Ingles, mientras su hijo le dice que se apure en Espanol. A mi familia en Mexico le digo que mi vida tiene ahora otros puntos de vista, que quiero ayudar a que las voces latinas sean escuchadas e incorporadas en esta sociedad, al mismo tiempo que me gustaria que la gente en nuestros paises entendiera mejor la lucha que uno vive para asimilar otra cultura sin perder la propia. Pero como cualquier latina abrigo la esperanza de volver a vivir en mi pais algun dia.

Leticia Vazquez
Graduate Student, Ohio State University

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They Call me “Traitor”

Ana M. Quevedo was born and raised in Lima, Peru. As one of seven children, she was raised by a nanny and other housekeepers, which she explains is typical for middle-class and upper-class Peruvians. She went to two different colleges and received two bachelor’s degrees, in Media Communications and in Journalism. Between 1978-80, when Ana was attending the Catholic College, the press was censored by the government, making it difficult to pursue a career in journalism.
In 1987, Ana met her future husband. Meanwhile, the economy was in crisis. Young professionals had a hard time finding a job and everything was very expensive. For economic reasons, she and her new husband decided to leave the country.
Ana had never imagined living in a place like Columbus, Ohio and she had a really had a hard time. She did not feel at home or welcome and she missed work. Ana thought she was alone with her feelings of depression and she could not find anybody who described similar experiences. After getting a green card, she worked for Contacto Latino, a magazine that reports on immigrants’ lives. Ana writes articles to raise awareness for Latin American immigrants rather then Latinas/os who have grown up in US. She knew she had made it when a speech that she wrote for a person, which was intended to make the audience cry, affected the audience in the intended way…
Ana said that as soon as she speaks people notice her accent and often times she gets a negative reaction towards it. Meanwhile, her parents and other friends who still live in Peru see Ana as a traitor because she left the country instead of using her skills as a professional there.
A Long Journey to an American Future

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I was born in the small town of Aibonito in Puerto Rico to a carpenter and his wife on September 16, 1955. It was, as my mother said, one of the warmest evenings of the September season. As a child I can remember several evenings where all we had to eat was a bowl of mother’s famous rice and a piece of her wonderful cornbread. It was the best cornbread that would make your mouth water at just the sight of it, which was probably good for the children since that was all my parents could afford at the time. We moved from Aibonito to Yauco when I was seven because my father had lost his job.
I worked as a maid in a home with my mother until she started working at the area hotel. She got the manager to hire me as her help and we started to generate an income for the family. At that time, a lot of people were poverty-stricken and had difficulty surviving. I met my husband, Jose‚ through the staff at the hotel. We fell in love and married the next year, at a church on the outskirts of Yauco with the blessings of the Holy Father.
Jose received a job offer off the coast of Mayaguez, so we moved there in the winter season of 1980. I was blessed with three sons, Mario, Carlos, and Brian. After Brian was born in 1992, my husband decided that he was tired of the second rate jobs and the low pay so we began a most treacherous journey into the world of the United States of America.
We left the shores of Puerto Rico on August 22, 1993 on a fishing boat. We could have gone by airplane, or a real boat, but the fisherman was a friend of a friend and did not charge us anything for the trip. It seemed like it took forever to get to the mainland. I couldn’t stand the constant rocking of the boat and I got sick several times throughout the duration of the trip. The boys liked to watch the schools of fish pass along the side of the boat making me leery that they would fall over the side into the ocean.
We arrived in Melbourne, Florida in good time. The air smelled much different than that of Puerto Rico. Instead of livestock manure and fish, the air consisted of smog and smoke. We did not have much money with us and we left everything besides a couple changes of clothes for each of us behind. Jose decided that we would hitchhike to New York City. A farmer took us to Hawkinsville, Georgia. We had to ride in the back of his pick-up truck with the chickens. We traveled through South Carolina, North Carolina and into Virginia with a family that was vacationing in Georgia. They were protestants unlike my family, who were Catholics. They believed that Christ sent them to us. We heard several stories told in different ways, unlike those I had heard as a child about the bible and Jesus and all of the biblical sins, or so that is what they called them. I was relieved when we reached Virginia, so that I could get out and away from them, for they had really offended me.
We saved enough money by doing odd jobs for families in Bluefield, West Virginia that we were finally going to take a bus to New York City. We left for New York in November of 1999. The bus smelled of urine and I was appalled at the words written on the bus seats. My entire family was sick from the smell of the bus as we stepped off the bus to a city that was supposed to be so grand, but smelled so badly. There were smells that even I could not conceive and the neighborhood was rude and inappropriate to us. People were rioting about stopping immigration, and they were chanting “kill all those Mexicans.” Then they saw us and began throwing things at us, like rotten tomatoes and eggs. I did not really know a lot of English, but somehow I could sense their anger and hatred.
We stayed in New York for only three months, just to raise enough money to leave. We heard someone say that Pennsylvania was a good state to get established in, so we went. The only work we could find was a cattle ranch in Oil City, Pennsylvania. I was not crazy about my children growing up on a ranch because I wanted more for them. I wanted them to experience the American way. I wanted them to feel like they were American. The opportunity has still not arisen. We now live in a somewhat shack like house in the rural area surrounding Lancaster, Ohio. I work in a low paying job and they discriminate against me because I am of Puerto Rican descent. I still do not speak English well, however, I am trying to help my children achieve something that I was not able to do. My husband died just a month ago, and now I am a widow with three sons. I know that coming to the United States was one of the best decisions that I ever made. And since my boys are excelling in American schools, I know that they will grow to make me proud.
Carmen Rodriguez
Born in Puerto Rico
Volunteer Work

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Adriana De La Pena was born in Mexico City, Mexico. She came to the United States in May of 1998, leaving her parents and other extended family, because of a career opportunity for her husband. Here in Columbus, Adriana has involved herself in a Latina woman's organization. By participating in raising funds for Latino children to go to college, as well as various other social activities, Adriana is able to be a part of the community and help others at the same time. Adriana also volunteers at the Clinica Latina, a medical clinic serving Latinos/as in Columbus. The clinic is available to all Latinas some of which have no medical insurance and no money.
In Mexico, Adriana was a doctor in a family practice. In the United States, she must pass an English test and then a medical test to practice medicine. In time, Adriana may decide to get her certification to practice medicine here, but for now, she is busy with her volunteering and raising her children. She is a graduate of one of the best universities in Mexico, La Universidad National Autonoma de Mexico.
Adriana works hard to keep her Mexican heritage a large part of her life, and in the lives of her children. Adriana usually cooks Mexican food at home, speaks only Spanish to her children, and surrounds her house with Mexican art and pictures. Adriana misses Mexico and feels she will go back to live there someday. Although she is in close contact with her family there, and goes back to visit often, she misses the everyday chance to be with her family.

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Poems to incorporate:
North from the River, South Inside
Excerpt, part I
the way it all began as they say
in old tales was suprising:
suddenly I had no clay under my feet
but sand was holding what I was
I clutched a few and carefully tended
myths and entered
into this territory of submersion:
north from my childhood
and from my early stories of each day
in the land where I grew (neon-lighted
showcase for underdevelopment) where we went
to church every Sunday and subtracted
smiles from the boys around the park
and the teacher told us that the Blessed
Virgin would cry if we so much as had
an impure thought (let alone play footsie)
and we merrily danced and forgot
that others were not invited to our clubs:
suddenly
that reality was no more
than a crushing distance the presence was
walls that shouted “you're in America now and have to
speak American” and how does one learn
to untalk all the past
another world would have to be forgotten
and the journey somehow erased
to be able to eat breakfast every morning and
go to school and
pay the bus fare and
read the messages of alienation:
seven or eight times in January came around
before I could walk into a room and feel
I wasn't really from another planet
my hair was brown as it should be
instead of green
and the accents of the tongue were forgiven
by well meaning hostesses who never
failed to ask “how do you like it here?” and then
the act of gratitude of intense
repetition of thanks (which were really sincere and
wagging-of-the-puppy-tail-like) and then the cute
and condescending references to talent
and land of opportunity for all
but I couldn't (I didn't know the words)
recite the pledge of allegiance and so
they made me cross the water
I spent a foreign day in a colorful sunny
marketplace and bought a big hat and straw purses
that had embroidery all over and said
NASSAU, BAHAMAS and the stewardess
insisted on my drinking Bloody Marys at
seven-thirty in the morning because
the Caribbean was so blue and
I was coming back forever to stripes
and amber waves of grain
--Eliana Suarez Rivero

In: Milligan, Bryce, ed., et al. Daughters of the Fifth Sun: A Collection of Latina Fiction and Poetry. Riverhead Books. New York: 1995.
Don't give in mi prietita
tighten your belt, endure.
Your lineage is ancient,
your roots like those of the mesquite
firmly planted, digging underground
toward that current, the soul of tierra madre-
your origin.

(Borderlands/ La Frontera, Gloria Anzaldúa)
Que lejos estoy del suelo donde he nacido!
Intensa nostalgia invade mi pensamiento;
Y al verme tan solo y triste cual hoja al viento,
Quisiera llorar, quisiera morir de sentimiento.
-“Cancion Mixteca,” a Mexican corrido

Ana M. Quevedo was interviewed by Conny Kirsch
Teresa Portales Robledo was interviewed by Erica Lerma.
Digna Sorto was interviewed by Amanda Varner.
María Juliá was interviewed by Lana Huynh and Ellen Thiemann
Adriana de la Peña was interviewd by Christina Nuzio
Elsa Cortes was interviewed by Shannon Brown-Pérez
Diana Ruggiero was interviewed by Krisha Hollman and Sarah Sidesinger
Sandra Gomez was interviewed by Angela Carrico and Dameion Wagner
Ilyeana Vermilyea was interviewed by Michelle Greek and Amy Bartels
Carmen Rodriguez was interviewed by Mirada Fouch
Don Primo, Jorge, Gaby and X were interviewed by Leticia Vazquez Ordonez
Juana Williams