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The Faces of Protest in Puerto Rico

The Faces of Protest in Puerto Rico
The Faces of Protest in Puerto Rico

They grabbed flags and whistles, sunscreen and umbrellas, and wound their way into the capital. By the time they reached Expreso Las Américas, a major highway, many more fellow protesters awaited with catchy chants and folk music, ready to shut down the island in a political show of force against Gov. Ricardo A. Rosselló.

Hundreds of thousands of Puerto Ricans gathered Monday to demand that Rosselló resign after a leaked private group chat revealed boorish and inappropriate exchanges among the governor and his closest aides.

But what the protesters rejected more broadly were decades of mismanagement and corruption that bankrupted Puerto Rico and left it unprepared to respond to the devastation of Hurricane Maria in 2017:

Keila Ramos, 30, a teacher whose family moved away to New York after Hurricane Maria because of the difficult economic conditions in Puerto Rico: “My relatives, my parents, my siblings went over there. My siblings went looking for better work. Every year, I have to wonder whether my teaching contract is going to get renewed.”

Luisa Albino, 65, a retired teacher from Corozal, which is in the mountainous central region of Puerto Rico, who is worried about her pension: “They might take away part of my retirement. There are poor, abandoned people in the mountain, who never got any help.”

Milagros Colón, 62, a cancer survivor from Corozal who woke up at 5 a.m. to make it to the protest: “You retire, thinking you’re going to be calm, and now they want to lower our pension. That’s all we have, we retired teachers. We’re surviving on that — trying to survive.”

Isamir Diodonet, 31, who earns $6 an hour working in a family business in Lajas, has been searching for six years for a job in her field of criminal investigations: “We studied only to have to leave the country, because we can’t work here. Many of us stayed because we want to see things improve, but there is nothing for us here. I don’t want my son to go through what I’m going through.”

Eliezer Camacho, 41, an electrician from Yauco, who protested with his wife and their 14-year-old son: “The education of my children, and of many children of Puerto Rico, is at stake every time this party is in power.”

Anthony Camacho, his son: “I want to be a software engineer. I want a job like that, where I can have a better salary.”

Sergio Pérez, 26, a psychology student from Ponce who does not know if he will be able to stay in Puerto Rico once he graduates in two years, remembered five months of suffering after Hurricane Maria: “We had a terrible time. Help didn’t arrive. We spent many months without water, without power — more than five, six months.”

Tania Ríos, 31, whose grandmother died in the months after Hurricane Maria, was recently laid off from her job as a real estate agent: “I can’t go to the Labor Department because under the new labor reform law, I can no longer contest my layoff. We can’t do anything anymore. They let you go because they feel like it and you’re helpless.”

Omar Matos, 38, who was recently released from federal prison: “I was a criminal, and no criminal does what these people do.”

Joyce Díaz, 20, who found her education in the town of Cupey to be deficient: “I never had a math class, in all of my high school years. I did not take math.”

Luz Zoraida Hernández, 73, a retiree who has long favored Puerto Rican independence: “My family and I have been persecuted our whole lives for being pro-independence, and I believe in freedom. We are not slaves.”

Carlos Zayas, 70, who is a Vietnam veteran, compared the recent protests to the push two decades ago to oust the U.S. military from the Puerto Rican island of Vieques: “There are a lot of veterans in the protest. We were in Vieques, and we got the Navy out.”

Ruth Vélez, 62, whose home in Bayamón was destroyed by Hurricane Maria: “I lived in that house for 30 years. Now I’m on the street. I’m here for all of us who are still homeless.”

Daniel Serrano, 46, who teaches English in rural San Sebastián, referred to the recent corruption arrest of former Education Secretary Julia Keleher: “We teachers have been oppressed. There’s no money for ink but there’s money for that woman!”

Emilio Acosta, 8, who marched with his father, Emilio Acosta, 34, referred to Gov. Rosselló: “He’s mistreating the country.”

Gabriela Aristud, 18, who has seen her tuition at the University of Puerto Rico rise: “Every day you wake up and think they could close the university at any time. Costs keep going up. We have to pay more and more, and many of us don’t have money for that. It hurts, and it’s very scary, what’s happening in Puerto Rico.”

Gisela Ramos, 50, who worries about poor special education options for her friend’s autistic son: “They couldn’t provide any accommodations for him: They closed his school. Where is the money going?”

Blessy De Jesús, 58, who works as a cook in the San Juan neighborhood of Hato Rey: “The abuse. That’s what brings me here.

Rafael Mercado, 23, who works as a cook in Quebradillas, left home at 5 a.m. to protest the corruption and economic conditions that have forced Puerto Ricans to leave the island: “Like four of my family members have left because of the hurricane and because of the corruption, because they can’t find work, and the government doesn’t provide needed aid.”

Coralys Delgado, 21, who recalled how pallets of expired food and water intended for hurricane victims were found about 30 minutes from her house: “It never arrived. We really needed water. We are tired of the same old — of being trampled and robbed. He has lied to us, and he keeps lying, and he doesn’t give up — and he has to.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

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