Dia

La Isla or the island refers to Puerto Rico, but it can also be the island of Manhattan or Orchard Beach in the Bronx. From this group's perspective, ultimately, we negotiate our meaning of being Puerto Rican and it has nothing to do with where we live. Being Puerto Rican is a sense of heritage, belonging, shared pride, and history. The show is not definitive, but it is resolute in its purpose to show the other side of the other island, the one where La Isla beats in the hearts of these Puerto Rican photographers, even when they stood in the shadows of tenements from Loisaida to the South Bronx. We are voluntary exiles en Nuestra Isla.

Al morirme que me entierren
en la isla que nací,
que quiero darle a mi isla
lo que ella me ha dado a mí.

Lyrics to this Bomba song, translated by Lyn Domínguez:

Cuando yo miro tus ojos
parece que miro al cielo
arropado con estrellas
y cubierto con luceros.

When I look into your eyes
It is as if I see the heavens
Wrapped in stars
And covered with splendor.

Al morirme que me entierren
en la isla que nací,
que quiero darle a mi isla
lo que ella me ha dado a mí.

When I die let them bury me
In the island where I was born,
For I want to give my island
What she has given me.

In 2011, Honorable Charles B. Rangel of the New York State House of Representatives added The Dia Exhibition to the Congressional Records on Thursday, May 12, 2011—in recognition of the impact it had in honoring the Puerto Rican photographers who documented their community in New York from 1960 to 1980. The Dia Exhibition was part of the 2011 FotoVisura Pavilion during the New York Photo Festival. Sponsored by Federico José Hernández, Founder/ Producer of Taste of Rums—The exhibition was featured in numerous publications, most notably, in the NY Daily News, El Diario/La Prensa, and NY Times.

Side note from the Curator

I am Puerto Rican. Why? Because this is how I feel. This feeling is filled with contradictions, and I assume them all. For it takes that I will be at odds with myself in front of everyone to show, that being Puerto Rican, just like being American or French or Lebanese is a feeling that although filled with contradictory nuances, it is real.
Since 2004, I am a voluntary exile of Puerto Rico, where I was born and raised and where my family—aside from my husband and his family, who I have adopted as my own—lives. I had to leave Puerto Rico, even if nobody made me leave. Just like I only use my first and middle name as my carte-de-visite to transcend the boundaries of nationalism, I too will always feel and be proud to say that I am Puerto Rican...In every step that I take towards breaking free from prejudices and stereotypes with condescending intentions to depict being Puerto Rican, Nuyorican, or any other “...ican” for that matter, I take one even longer step towards expressing how proud I am to be me.

—Adriana Teresa Letorney Hernández Denton Hernández Cestero Ramos Morales Reyes