Puerto Rican Paste Magazine | In 2005, my ex and I had broken up and I was forced to move out of our Mission apartment and seek housing elsewhere. I went on the longest series of roommate interviews, ever. Each and every time I stepped into the blur of claustrophobic rooms for rent, a white man was the interviewee. It wasn’t until a tiny dancehall lovin’ Filipino student from Long Beach interviewed me that I finally found a place to lay my head. I’ve been grateful to Christine ever since.
Why am I mentioning this? Because after pitching this essay – about Puerto Rican familial foundation – around for one-year, it seemed like it was doomed for the same destiny had it not finally fallen into the peripheral vision of the food editor at Paste Magazine. She got me. She got the essay. I’m eternally grateful to her.