Fifty years ago today, my family and I arrived in the U.S.
The night before, we’d gathered just outside of Havana, my parents, my brother and I, joined by 40 other people to board a 28 foot boat to escape from Cuba.
For my parents, it was goodbye forever to the life they’d known. For my brother and me, a transformation of the promise of whatever life we’d had, or could have had, under any circumstances, in Cuba.
For this queer girl (in every sense), that’s been a gift.