I have spent most of this summer editing. Listening again, to all the people I spoke with this past year and who make up the Hostos Community College community. I spent another chunk of time editing interviews with people close to Evelina López Antonetty, the Puerto Rican leader who established United Bronx Parents. And I’ve devoted another slot of time to just reading history and pondering how all these voices fit in the context of today.

I begin a whole new weekly share in the form of a radio hour segment, the first week of September, when Hostos Community College officially sets off on celebrating its 50th Anniversary, for the College’s internal and external community. I’m on the hot seat and feeling it.

And there’s more but for now, Kim Sanabria. Something about her sincerity, her cadence, her serenity, and her story, just gripped me.

For those of you who’ve seen me these past few months, I’m sad these days. I may not look it, but I am. Fortunately, people like Kim send me off to the sphere of optimism and hope and reaffirming the notion that education is a moral imperative.

One of the awesome things about doing this podcast/program for the past sixty-weeks has been the chance to speak with and listen to a lot of wonderful people. It’s kept me present to the fact that there is a lot of goodness despite all the social and political parasites and white supremacists, here and abroad, who with their ignorant and retrograde intellect, insist on bringing us all to the precipice of death.

One of those good people is Melissa Rendler-García. She has been working in advocacy and policy of public health for over 20-years at a global scale. From the heart of the Amazon to Romania to Afghanistan to Central and South America, Melissa has worked on issues from malaria to cancer. Her main service, to support government ministries and agencies like the Union for International Cancer Control in bringing global attention for funding to pandemics and preventable diseases like cervical cancer, affecting poor and developing nations.

In this episode, she talks about her journey into the field. I’m super proud of her and admire her strength of character. Listen to her story, her sense of humanity might just give you a little jolt of inspiration.

Healthcare is an issue close to my heart and should be for all of you. Our pre-existing condition is being born. For now, here is one of my favorite people, proud to call her a sister, an advocate of all of us and we both agree that healthcare is a human right.

Talk about real. Manny Vega is super real. Legit all the way. All the way.

Praise the Lord.

Before recording our conversation Manny showed me this spectacular book he’s been working on for 4-years. It’s a fantastical sight of black ink drawings over brown paper. The light blue leather bound of the book, a little less than a meter in size, has about 80 pages, each one a drawn world filled with life flushed in nuance and inspired by the act of surrendering.

As he tells it, to surrender is to trust in your angels, your madrina, the Gods, and the ancestors. Each second of creative action is trust in surrendering. Not surrendering as meek, but surrendering to the most high in silence and pure expression of sincere enthusiasm.

Manny is enthusiastic for the action of creating in the moment - one drawing is an 8-hour stretch. Here and there is a state of being.

He let me take one picture from the book and it turned out to be the chameleon. Fancy that. Look at him in the branch, knowing the right hue will appear at just the right time. Good dust spreads wherever the art finally arrives to rest.

Manny's heart is in his art. Surrender.

In a few words. Here in this share, George Emilio Sánchez talks about being committed to social justice and its fusion with the creative arts. At a time when the relevance of the Humanities is being questioned, George gets doing it and from its very fringes. He teaches not just at Staten Island College helping to spread good, but throughout a wide network. Best advice he can give, “Listen, listen, listen…”

I’ve been thinking about Math lately. The course that we must all take and that many of us, later in young adult life think it’s useless, only it isn’t. In many ways it’s true, the saying, youth is wasted on the young. But I digress.

Dr. C is all heart-and-soul. I hope you catch that when you listen to his share in this episode 57. He’s from Poland and teaches mathematics at Hostos. For him, mathematics is about the “spirit of generalization.” He’s serious as hell and he makes sense. I say Hostos is lucky to have him.

This past week I went on the deep end of memory lane recalling how hard Math had been for me during my elementary and middle school days until I got to Algebra. Until then, I thought I was utterly incapable of understanding numbers, I suffered a lot because of it. And though that’s a different story, the realization that I wasn’t a dunce dawned on me when I took to Algebra and realized I understood numbers and counting from the experiential setting of being a dancer. Dancing in synchronicity with music is one of the fundamentals of learning the language of being a mover. So connecting what to me were disconnected worlds through the realm of movement, was a total aha moment. It was like, full contact between the invisible and physical world. When Dr. C spoke about aha moments and his students I had a smile from ear to ear.

Algebra. X, Y, Z, and variables. Just like life. We are all in it together, and so in the deep lane I thought what does “m.a.t.h.” stand for, and I came up with, Materialized Attention To Harmony.

Go count your blessings

Have you ever gone under water searching for silence? Do you focus on staying under a bit longer to think and to feel the peace? Or, do you grow desperate and go for air? Are you thankful you can come up for air? Do you go out there and live?

For Rosary Solimanto going down under was not a choice. She was living her life and suddenly, she was thrown into the water to drown. She could see the light, the outside world, but something larger than her kept under desperate for air, for life. I think somewhere in her crucifixion Rosary found a place of stillness and silence - that place where you can go to fetch that thing that just might save your life. That, there, is such a lonely journey…

But she ferociously set herself free and came up for air to live, and she’s taking on the healthcare industry with performance (Dead without Health Care, Alive, The Patient) with sculptures (Weight, Cripple, Trigeminal Neuralgia), by building a new health care narrative, and working to debunk the image of the wheelchair from the health care lexicon in favor of ADAPT.

Her valor and her work are for all of us. To put it elegantly, this entire health care debacle is disgraceful. To me, these men, the ones presenting the health care agenda are low lives. I’m repulsed by all of it and by them, and not just now, but from way before. The whole thing is just a racket. If there is any silver lining is the fact that their moral monstrosity has made it plain and apparent that health care must be universal because health care is a human right.

'Tis the summer of Despacito...

There’s this music club/performance space/art space in Santurce, Puerto Rico called La Respuesta, that mostly presents the local indie rock scene. I learned about La Respuesta in 2008 when I was down in the island for a season working publicity for several local films. One of the films, La Mala needed a place for a party and my friend Nadia Barbarossa, who was part of the film’s producers team told me about it. So I called the owner, the guy that everyone called Fofito, and asked him for a date to go see the place for a possible rental. I still remember the first impression. He was dry, serious, and straight to the point which made me love him on the spot because he didn’t waste my time with bullshit talk.

So La Respuesta was rented for La Mala’s premiere party where the lovely and amazing Lena Burke played the piano and sang her heart out. Since then he and I have been buddies. I stopped calling him Fofito. He is Jose to me, without the accent on the “e”. I like it more than his nickname. Jose is a father of two kids he adores and it’s not just talk. Jose loves music and it’s not just talk. Jose loves Puerto Rico and it’s not just talk. Some people say he’s cantankerous. I say he’s a lovable cantankerous character and if it weren’t for him many emerging artists in San Juan would have virtually nowhere to perform. For that, I love him yet again.

For several years now he’s been commuting between New York and Puerto Rico and producing programming for La Marqueta Retoña. In 2015, Remezcla included him in a “Top 10 List” .

Finally, after about two years of crossed schedules he came over for lunch last Friday and helped me hang paintings in my new apartment, get plants, and out of the blue, I decided to record an on-the-spot conversation. So this Spanish podcast episode 55 has upper west Bronx sounds. But it’s a real from-the-heart conversation with a guy that’s worked hard to make a living in the arts and culture sphere, in the music scene sphere, and with and for Puerto Rican musicians and visual artists. La Respuesta’s wall facing Avenida Fernández Juncos is a space for murals…this is now.

#LaRespuesta #Santurce #PuertoRico #Artists #Music #IndieRock #NFAND

For episode 54 I wanted to bring back the Hostos Oral Collective. Perhaps because I’m searching left and right for people who’ve gone out and made a difference, perhaps because of the symbolism of the weekend celebrations, perhaps because I can’t stop thinking about the South Bronx and everything that’s happened there...by now I’ve heard over 150 stories about Hostos and the Bronx, los puertorriqueños, los afro-americanos, los imigrantes, the fiscal crisis, the place was burning...Somewhere in there is why I wanted to share Fernando Ferrer’s words about Eugenio María de Hostos Community College and the Bronx today.

The image of him waiting for me in Hostos’ A-Building lobby is etched in my mind. There he was, the iconic former Bronx Borough President unfazed by his lone landing on 149th Street and Grand Concourse. He looked around as if thinking to himself...He didn’t need an I.D., the security guards recognized him, as well as many of the passersby.

He sat inside my humble voice recording sound studio made of photo backdrop drapes to cancel out echo. Inside the pseudo-casbah is a little table with a super colorful drape that makes it look like a seance gathering. Only it’s not, but it does make the small hut an intimate space for one-on-ones and the only way out of nervousness is to focus, be present 100% and listen to the words...here a leader and a kind hearted man - Fernando Ferrer.

Sitting down with a vocal coach is a humbling thing. In this conversation both of us demonstrate our Spanglish sharpness, other than that she’s the pro. Rosie holds the distinction of being one of the audiobook voices for the United States Library of Congress. Rosie has rules, one hundred of them! In our conversation, we really only got to level one, but it’s worth the listen for our seamless in-and-out from English-to-Spanish-to-English and to catch an off-record mini class on proper diction. She asked me what language I wanted to perfect and I answered “neither,” but my answer should have been, “both.”

I’ve known Rosie for many years, but a couple of years ago we met up at Tio Louis’ house and caught up in a heart-to-heart talk that has brought us together. There’s a lot more to her than being an actress and a diction coach. She also writes films and is tackling dying with dignity as the theme, a matter for a different sit-down. For now, be reminded that I’m fascinated by creative workers, and she is definitely one of them. We cover her work as a voiceover artist, her near-death car crash on the West Side Highway that saved her life metaphorically speaking, a few other topics and then we go into diction exercises. She’s lovely. Simply lovely. Sweet, respectful, mature and at it with dignity and certainty. My kind of people.

Today’s her birthday. Happy one Rosie!

Jane Gabriels as a guest is sort of poetic. Wasn’t planned. NFAND began as an experiment to save my life and the journey has been bountiful, but more on that some other time. For now, know that Jane and I are kindred in spirit and professional action. But she’s a Jane of all trades with prowess who masters her crafts. Her free style has made her a dancer, poet, performance artist, grant writer, producer, “boss” of Pepatián, a mentor to artists, and a Ph.D. holder. Jane and I have much to talk about and can follow our thoughts going faster than the sounds of our words. Though our talk stretches out, we managed to stay rooted in the journey towards a meaningful life, love of artists, learning to fund the arts, and the Bronx. Many look up to her, go to her, and need her because she’s simply one-of-a-kind.

Thank you for sticking around this first year. More to come...

I struggled to watch Angel Manuel Soto film La Granja (The Farm, Happiness is Hard) not because it was bad, but because it was so good. He had me at minute three. Bravo to him. The film is a scathing socio-political commentary. To me, the consequence of depraved corruption. In this make believe dystopian realm, La Granja’s brazen punch, if you have any humanity in you, is that it’s true. This story takes place in Puerto Rico. The Puerto Rico few want to look at, like Angel says, “It’s not the Puerto Rico you see on postcards.” But it must be looked at. We learn by contrasting the good and the bad, the dark and the light and so on...

Why do we compare the most decadent and repulsive behavior of people to animals? I mean, most animals kill in self-defense or when they’re hungry, not for show. We, the people, also kill in self-defense or if we're hungry, but we also kill for show. Right? And so we’re in a category all of our own as I see it. What is animalistic about us? I’m imagining the side of human behavior that dismembers people without remorse or dismembers people with gusto as if the kill would save their lives. Another way to kill for show is to asphyxiate slowly with passive despotism, torture, oppression, enslavement, austerity, rape, robbery, pillage. These things set the landscape for either ignorance or violence, which turns the knob a little higher each time until it gets to such a point that it turns human reality into a menace. Somehow Angel gets at all this in La Granja without apology.

Angel is warning us but also urging us to take a step back to reconsider all our options, to dialogue with one another because we might just end up there. It looks like we're almost there by the look of things on a global scale. Corrupt and base souls strangling the people left and right, north and south, and east and west. They themselves seemed captured in a twisted sinister mindset that aims to make ignorance and vitriol the only way out, towards their way. The question is, which way is that?

That is what La Granja captures and presents - desperation, decay, oppression, indifference, and death. His poetry of understanding how colonialism plus massive white collar corruption entangled with the American Dream has dismembered a nation that is still alive both on the island and in the diaspora, ese pueblo grande Puertorriquño fuera de la isla.

La Granja doesn't make it easy or pretty on you. It's brave I'd say. But if there’s life, shouldn’t there also be hope? Go for compassion. Free Puerto Rico.

harlie Vázquez is an autodidact. He knows what he knows because he taught himself. And he’s sharp and witty and he reads, reads, and reads. I asked him how he became a writer and he went off on a story, many stories, connected stories about his life’s journey into the literary realm. It is his way of life. From song lyricist to phantasmagorical and literary terms Charlie goes at everything or has because he’s curious. That’s why he left the Bronx for a while, to see the world. I clearly see the skinny kid with no cash at 12 or so, riding the New York City subways when the whole damn thing was falling apart (just like now btw) and I guess that had something to do with him growing his thick skin. And thank goodness nothing ever happened to him. After all, he’s been through and seen and lived Charlie is sensitive, open, centered in his sense of self, forward, real, and that’s why people love him.

My background is imbued in music. My entire life has been informed sort of like a doll cut out from the Latin music scene in its many forms. Though I cannot sing or play an instrument to save my life, my Dad gave me no choice but to learn to love music and I’m all the better and privileged for it. I’ve absorbed the arts and culture from that primal field of expression ever since I can remember.

One of those figures is Fran’ Ferrer. His work has impacted Puerto Rican popular music in profound ways. He is history. Really. He has given the cause his sweat, blood, and tears. Fran’ has produced some of the island’s most iconic and unforgettable figures and by extension, songs, in both the studio and live performance setting.

Here he talks about his musical journey in the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s from El Topo to Roy to Batacumbele, Brown to Festival Marisol and the list goes on. We’re scheduled for a Part II sometime later in the year.

A man of the people who produced music for his people.

Esto es una remembranza linda linda de la historia de la música de Puerto Rico.

Today he plays at the Loisaida Festival in the Lower East Side of Manhattan with a great band of masters - Papo Vázquez - musical director; Henry Cole, drums; Gabriel “Gabo” Lugo, percussion; Mario Roberto Cancel Viga, cuatro; Ariel Robles, bass; Nelson “Gazu” Jaime, trumpet; Anthony Carillo, bongó; Edsel Gómez, piano; Omi, Trombone; and Jorge Castro, Sax.

In other words...Descarga Boricua (this is a reference)

An actor prepares…

After a ten-year hiatus, Jorge Merced returns to reprise the role of “Loca” la de la Locura in El Bolero Fue Mi Ruina - El Bolero Was My Downfall - the brave character created by Puerto Rican author Manuel Ramos Otero.

In a nutshell, I would say the play is a confession of sorts, an admission of actions of sins based on love, desperation, defeat, marginalization, and the universal innate need of all human hearts to feel acknowledged and respected. Loca, is a tragic story but also a heroic one.

I first saw Jorge perform this show 20 years ago at Pregones’ black box theater. The play opens June 1st, marking Jorge’s 20th anniversary with the show and his 30 years of histrionics and leadership with Pregones, now Pregones / Puerto Rican Traveling Theater.

Jorge has been part of the gay rights movement for years and our conversation here stretches out to explain how the text came to him, how he began performing it as a way to stand for queer voices, what Ramon Ramos Otero signifies for Spanish queer literature today, and how he prepared to revise and reimagine this tale for today.

Jorge is an exceptional actor and performer with an uncanny ability to deliver character dialogue in perfect synchronicity with live music. It’s as if he were an Olympic surfer riding the perfect wave that could crash at any second, only that just like the great surfer, he’s somehow always ahead of it, and comes out standing.    

This new staging of El Bolero Was My Downfall is in English, and we also talked about the translation work and how some things cannot be translated but communicated in action. And so, Jorge and the cast prepared, and they're for you.

P.S. - Hostos50 Oral Collective continued. Van Tran, alumnus ‘91, Associate Professor of Sociology at Columbia University. He and his family came to New York City as refugees from Vietnam, and the story of his journey is as timely as ever. The power of education is real and access is imperative.

A good teacher can change you forever.

Like my 11th-grade math teacher Ana. Something about how she taught opened me to the magnificence of Algebra. My awakening made me yearn for homework. I asked for more of it, I couldn’t get enough. By the time my high school graduation came, I no longer felt like I didn’t have a brain for math, which really dented in my self-esteem for years. But I did have it, it just took me a while, the right teacher.

And that’s the thing with Lew Levine, professor of English. He’s taught English at Hostos Community College for years now, like 40. In broad terms, Lew’s an old-timer of the Bronx, New York City, multi-lingual immigrant populations, communities of color, The City University of New York, and education as a principle.

I’ve seen so many eyes light up when they mention the Professor. They all say more or less the same things, that he’s respectful, fun, serious, makes them feel important, and he’s a stand-up man.

This is a beautiful story of a life of service.

Do you think a perfect storm is brewing? Forces of all kinds swirling around. Picking up speed. Lifting intoxicating filth. Do you sense an illusory stability holds most of everything, more or less, together? A subtle innocence keeping circumstances calm? It’s pretty bad but it could be worse. I suppose it’s gonna’ get worse if...(pick a topic). But for now, it feels like goodness is keeping it all connected as strong as a spider web.

Comes in Rokia Diabi. A young woman and student with a promising future. The power of her promise nested in her dream of becoming a lawyer some day. She's so sincere. Goodness. Rokia has seen a lot, suffered a lot, but she overcomes. Here is a woman's story, a student's story, a snippet of an urban tale in globalized times.

I stand with the students and allies of the University of Puerto Rico.

For the next four weeks, I will share full episodes of the Hostos50 Oral Collective.

As the repulsive PROMESA proposes to slash funding from the UPR there is no better time than to share what I have been privileged enough to document for the past eight months. The antithesis of the long-term consequences of a city without a local and public educational institution.

My first love is arts and culture.

And so Episode 45 is Wally Edgecombe. He’s amazing. Just amazing. And as I see it, and at this juncture, Wally is a chapter of South Bronx history.

This is Part I of II. For those of you into deep dives, the various links will take you to the Soundcloud page where the rest of the vast collection, will be uploaded to for the rest of the year. And there, you will find Part II of Wally Edgecombe. The rest is history.

If the legendary Puerto Rican educator, writer, and patriot Don Eugenio María de Hostos were alive today, I wonder what he’d think of the community college in the South Bronx named after him, that no one thought would make it. Alas.

Just this past Thursday, Eugenio María de Hostos Community College launched its 50th Anniversary Season.

I can't help but believe that Don Eugenio would be proud of what one of the most marginalized and disenfranchised communities to have ever been in United States history did for themselves.

The story of Hostos is deserving of a lot more attention than it has ever received. It truly is an amazing story. A story about the Bronx, New York City and a reveal of margnalized communities. My relationship with the College is long and now very profound. Life changing really. And I’ll share that story as the year unfolds.

But for part one, for the past 8 months, I’ve been coordinating, conducting, and editing an oral history project for and about Hostos Community College - Hostos50. To date, I have interviewed well over 100 people and counting for a grand goal of 200. From former College Presidents Cándido de León and Flora Mancuso Edwards, to Congressman José E. Serrano, and former Bronx Borough Presidents Fernando Ferrer and Adolfo Carrión, to young students with a promising future like Rokia Diabi.

Once a month, for the next year, I’ll share some of these testimonies if you will. The testimonies are moving, sincere, revealing, courageous, some devastating, others empowering, and the story of triumph over adversity. And more relevant than ever.

Which brings me to Tere Martínez. I wanted to start with her because I love her because she has been nothing but noble to me and because her purpose is beautiful and her testimony open and to the point.

Like the song says, I must have done something good, for the grace of God gave me the opportunity to work on this project when we have, arguably, the most despicable crew of racists, sexists, homophobic, fear mongering, science deniers, xenophobes and troglodytes leading the world order.

The point indeed is that the voices emerging from this Hostos Community College oral collective as I’ve heard it first hand, confirm to me yet again that the leaders have it all wrong.

Ignorance judges the so-called “moochers” for being good for nothings. The truth is you find moochers and good for nothings at every level and anywhere you go, is not an exclusive club of poor people of communities of color.

The bottom line is that the power of education is real and access is imperative.