Puerto Rican Life in the American West
Wednesday, September 2, 2009, 12:36 PM
Finally! Our first formal exhibition for American Boricua has opened here on the West Coast. If you are in the Seattle area, go see it! We're working on booking more Western cities for this show. Have ideas where? Contact me here on the blog!

I was very touched that some folks drove all the way up from Olympia (this is an hour away) to see this work. Gracias to all that were able to attend the opening last Friday.

Here is the information, please forward to everyone!

Wanda Benvenutti: Boricua
Puerto Rican Life in the American West
August 28-September 24, 2009

Jacob Lawrence Gallery
University of Washington School of Art
Seattle, WA

Gallery Phone:206-685-1805

Seattle-based photojournalist Wanda Benvenutti's book in progress,
American Boricua: Puerto Rican Life in the United States, travels out
West in this new exhibition of work. Puerto Rican cultural life, showcased in
photographs and interviews, has spread throughout the entire American Western
landscape. From tattoo artists in Utah to poets in Northern California,
see for yourself what the changing face of America looks like.


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Why exploding cars are not so helpful
Thursday, June 18, 2009, 10:32 AM
Okay. So here is the story. This car, hoopty really, that I have been driving on borrowed time finally kicked the bucket. At one a.m. this morning, the engine just...had enough of this life. Thankfully I was with a friend so waiting for the tow truck was not too terrible an experience. Last week the mechanic warned me that the cracked head gasket would probably kill the car, and it most likely would NOT make it to California...but did I listen?!?

Never!

So here is the moral of the story: when you are driving around the entire United States, interviewing and photographing, you really need to drive a good car. The constant smoke from under the hood, the sounds from the deep bowls of the engine, the smell (don't get me started on the smell!) was so bad it wafted toward us from three blocks away. I had this entire system of daily hoopty survival:

Rev the engine to get it to kick over
Use the emergency brake to stop
Keep the car in neutral at stop signs (prevents stalls)
Put water in the radiator at least once a day
Stay away from steep hills
Ignore the stares of people on the street who cannot believe that you are actually driving a car that looks like its been to hell and back (wait...it came from a car auction, perhaps that is an accurate description)
Pray for a new car

The car, (her name was muņeca), she was such a metaphor for this book, seriously. American Boricua is something that has its hold on me and a dead car is not going to stop me from anything. Especially finishing American Boricua.

Okay world. I am ready for that new car now. Standard, good gas mileage, a radio that works! A car that doesn't make me cringe when I park it at the store because I have to wonder if it will start again. A car that is safe and reliable.

Drumroll....The Boricuamobile!

God bless the Boricuamobile. Amen.

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Puerto Ricans on Election Day in Portland, Oregon
Sunday, November 9, 2008, 08:04 PM
The best way to describe my 15-hour day in Portland is how I felt after it was over. Have you ever experienced a joy hangover?

Now, no matter where you land on the political spectrum, last Tuesday was the kind of day your Grandchildren will ask you about. Kind of like when kids ask their parents about the 1960s!

It is a new day, and the morning of November 4, 2008 I climbed into my ugly-yet-reliable car and drove to Portland at 6:18 a.m. To be in I-5 South, with rain coming at you sideways in a truly Northwest Experience. NPR keeps you company but after the first hour it begins to repeat stories so I ended up searching for anything to keep me awake. As I got closer to the Obama campaign volunteer center on the corner of Killingsworth and 15th Avenue N.E., I started to hear what sounded like a party. Music blaring, people bustling about, volunteers arriving with homemade plates of food. I saw a Black man playing African drums by the entrance, an elderly White gentleman out on the street, megaphone in hand, chanting "Obama" over and over again. He said it with an enormous grin, and it sounded like an exclamation of joy. Never in my life could I have imagined seeing elderly Black women dancing, DANCING, to the ballot box. People were in tears, hugs were freely given and received. One volunteer, a retired Mexican-American woman, pulled me aside and said the volunteers had been working together for nearly a year. "We just don't show up to canvass." She said with a knowing nod. "We're like family now. We're going to stay in each other's lives."

A few people looked at me suspiciously as I began to load my camera and I smiled and do what I always do: patiently identify myself and explain that I am there waiting for someone to photograph for American Boricua. It always astonishes me when people ask questions and have such a sincere interest in our culture. People are much more open-hearted and curious than we give ourselves credit.

Finally, Nanci arrived on the scene with a friend that had come up from Northern California to work on the campaign. Nanci Luna Jimenez, originally from Detroit, Michigan, runs her own company that offers cultural diversity seminars and training. A dear friend of mine who lives in Portland insisted I meet her after hearing her keynote speech at a recent conference. He even called DURING the seminar. He's not even Latino but really appreciated her warmth, wisdom, and humor.

I spent the afternoon photographing and interview Nanci about her life and experience as a Boricua in the Northwest. She spoke to many voters, (one even invited us in for tea and offered her a jacket to keep warm as the day got cold and damp!) and explained why many people in her community have not felt like they are a part of the political process until now. Her articulate comments caught the ear of a local television reporter and before we left to canvass she was interviewed by him. Funny that this happened because when I was in Idaho spending the day with Yolanda Matos, she was interviewed by the local press as well. Must be something in the air, eh? Either that or its just plain power in the numbers. Latinos are now the largest ethnic group in the United States. More on Nanci and my Oregon experience soon.

Gracias to Eddie Resto in Los Angeles for this new Spanglish word: Obamanos.

Obamanos, indeed.



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Patience is a virtue
Friday, October 24, 2008, 04:56 PM
Wow. Okay, first off let me apologize for neglecting the garden that is this little blog for so long. Life can sometimes get in the way, so what can I type? Gracias to the folks who've been staying in touch and asking for more recent postings.

So the latest news about American Boricua include a couple of cool happenings. The Seattle PBS station, KCTS Channel 9, will have a feature on me and the project in a few weeks. Most likely we'll shoot it in late Feb. 2009, when I have a firm air date I will blog it down. (Can one blog something down rather than write or jot it down? Hum. Technology can create linguistic questions...) V-Me, if you haven't checked it out, is a really wonderful part of PBS that provides Latino themed programming in both Spanish and English and occasionally Spanglish, ha! Go watch some V-Me.

The other happening is that I'll be back in New York soon to meet some people who want to buy American Boricua, the book. I'm not a very superstitious person, but once in a while I have to keep mum on things so they'll flow naturally. No sense in becoming a total stress case about it. I have too many Boricuas all over this country to meet, interview, and photograph!! We're also starting to plan an exhibition of photographs that will travel nationally when the book comes out. God only knows exactly when that will be, but at least now I can look at a calendar and imagine it'll be sooner than later. This is truly a blessing. (And I thought when I climbed into my car that very first time that this would be done in a year. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Yeah, right.)

Books take time to create and develop, just like any large undertaking. Thank you for being patient, we're working very hard to make it happen, so just hang in there with us. Eventually we'll all get to see how Puerto Rican life in the United States is a really cool part of how we live as Americans.

One last thing. I received my absentee ballot in the mail last week and am starting to read up on all of my local issues before I vote. Please vote, not only does it make you an engaged citizen, it is a very important way to make your voice heard! We're all in this together, so you might as well join in and cast that ballot.

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Why would a Puerto Rican move to Montana?
Thursday, March 29, 2007, 02:57 PM
The reasons people move all boil down to this: clean air, safe neighborhoods, good schools, reasonable cost of living. Quality of life. In Bozeman, Montana not only do people say hello to you on the street, they look into your eyes and they say it. That much kindness can freak out a person who grew up in cities where no eye contact is a matter of daily survival.

Of the total population of 27,509 in the 2000 Census, 46 hardy souls claimed a Puerto Rican identity in a place where winters are often 30 below zero. This is .17% of the total population. Thankfully I found some of the tribe, but had to do some digging in a town three hours away (Missoula, another lovely college town nestled in spectacular natural beauty) to find them. Cada dia estoy buscando Boricuas, its a funny life.

The Bozman Daily Chronicle, the local newspaper, has a daily Police Reports section. The March 26, 2007 edition, (section A, page 6) included:


"The Bozeman Police Reports for Saturday included the following:

A motorcyclist was arrested for drunken driving on West Babcock Street.

A worker on West Babcock Street said a stranger came up to him, took off his shirt and challenged him to a fight.

A man at a West Main Street bar got into a fight with two other men over who could hang drywall best."


Now, despite the reputation as a redneck frontier town, time passes at a soft pace here and it is a rare person who locks their car doors. Some even leave the engine running to grab some milk at the store. This must be what the United States was like before nasty little modern inventions like carjacking.

Luckily I connected with Montana State University Latin American
Literature and Latino Studies Professor Bridget Kevane. She is from the island and was careful to introduce herself as being from Puerto Rico. Bridget calls herself a "gringarican". "I don't say that I'm Puerto Rican, I don't claim that identity. One parent is Irish and the other is Catholic!" There are many ways to be Boricua.
She met me for lunch with Silddy Atilano and her son Diego. He is an eight year old ray of sunshine. The three women talked of life and shared funny stories. Like all three have been told that they don't look Puerto Rican. Then the inevitable question arose: What the hell does that MEAN anyway? There is always a green eyed cousin with black skin, or a niece with delicate features and an afro.

We look like everyone because we ARE everyone.

Getting back to Montana...everyone I've seen here looks rugged and robustly healthy. These people spend serious time outside, even in subzero temperatures during the winter. There are 3 men for every 1 woman here in town and frankly that can be a little distracting. I'm told Alaska is similar. Hum.

So I went to a party with Silddy and her boyfriend Saturday night, which we left because the DJ confused samba music with salsa music (odd, I know) and went to a bar to talk.

Silddy got off a plane from the tropical island of Puerto Rico and landed in Bozman, Montana as a 17 year old college freshman. She loved it so much she's lived here for 13 years. More on her life soon.



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