As a daughter of two Cuban immigrants, I am usually asked what my thoughts are about the current situation in Cuba. Should we play ball on a field known for suppressing and controlling others? Well here’s my answer, decide for yourself.
At the age of 6 years old, I had the privilege of entering the country of my ancestors and experiencing the love and curiosity of family members I would possibly never be able to see again. A lot of questions came to my 6 years old mind. Including why are there no doors? Why does the milk taste funny? Where’s the TV? Why can’t I have a pillow? Why is the shower outside?
After several days I became accustom to this new world, and the luxuries I was so reliant on quickly lost power. Creating out of “close to nothing” is not a lack; it’s a true opportunity to start something new while connecting with others. I believe this is when my love for games and community really started. Seeing my father (a left handed pitcher) playing ball with his brothers, cousins and friends, some of them he would never see again, still brings tears to my eyes. The joy I got to experience those few days will last forever, and for that I so am grateful. Thank you, Cuba. Now let’s play ball.