De Lo Mio

A sister project to NuevaYorkinos’ June 2022 show Aquí Me Quedo centering the Boricua diasporas of Bushwick and Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and Ridgewood, Queens, De Lo Mio celebrates New York City’s extensive Dominican diaspora. These submissions were received specifically for this show, in collaboration with the Dominican Artists Collective, a collection of story tellers, community-centered gate openers, and culture expanders on a mission is to dismantle systemic oppression through art by building a community that challenges what is and what can be.

“Growing up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn (the area I grew up in now called Prospect Heights) I really felt like my family used any occasion to play music, dance, eat, and drink. Looking back now and seeing how all these different shades of color came together to have a good time shows me how diverse of a people we are. We Latinos should be the leading examples for society. All we know is love (it's in our music!) but yet I see we have a lot of work to do. As someone who never knew where I fit growing up (Im black until they hear me speak Spanish, but in a Latin space I have to prove my ‘Dominican-ness’) I'm grateful to look back at my family and know that I was always welcomed with them. Because all that mattered there was LOVE.” - Adonis

Adonis with his parents and my father's side of the family at my Adonis’s bautismo; Adonis’s older sister (in red) with their abuela and cousins from their mom’s side of the family; and Adonis’s 3rd birthday. Crown Heights, Brooklyn, 1988, Easter 1984, and 1989, respectively.

“Papi came to NYC from the Dominican Republic when he was 20 years old in 1973. A few years and several jobs later, Papi and two of my uncles became owners of a bodega in Redhook, Brooklyn. In 1988, he brought his family from Santiago, DR to Queens, NY. I was a toddler, just a month shy of turning 3 and my mom was pregnant with my brother. Right after we arrived, my brother was born soon followed by my sister.

We barely saw Papi though. He practically lived at the bodega.  He worked long hours 6 days a week.  He’d come home around midnight every night; way past our bed time.  As soon as we heard his keys jingling to get into our tiny Jackson Heights apartment, we’d bolt out of bed to greet him, ‘Papi Papi!’ No chancletaso threats from my mom were enough to keep us from jumping out of bed and straight into his tired arms.  We looked forward to those moments with him and the short bursts of quality time we excitedly took for our own in the middle of the night. 

On Sunday’s I’d beg my mom to let me go to work with him but she’d hit me with “eso no son sitios para niñas!” Most times, I’d just go despite what she said. I just wanted to be with Papi. I loved that 5am drive on the BQE to Red Hook; the sunrise, the cool, crisp air, listening to the staticky Radio WADO AM station on the radio the whole way there.  I’d help him pull the gate up and get the coffee machine going for the morning rush of customers, while he got everything else going.  Our Sunday ritual. It was the most time I got to spend with him. On Sunday’s we were a team- just me and Papi Thank you for all the sacrifices you made to make sure we always had enough. We love you pa’” - Jenny Fernandez

Jennifer and her father Miguel Angel. Jackson Heights, Queens, and Redhook, Brooklyn, 1980s-1990s.

“All of these photos exhibit the pure joy we had just being around each other. From being raised on the same block to going to the same schools, our bond to the neighborhood was solid & vice versa. A special time to grow up, before phones and around the claock social media awareness, kids still longed to go outside & play, teenagers engaged in activities they were interested in (sports, dance, games, art) & adults protected, guided and created the neighborhoods atmosphere. Having family, music, bbqs, and block parties be the foundation of our culture. This time will never be recreated but will always be remembered.” – Destiny Santana

Destiny, her family, and friends. Harlem, Manhattan 2005-2010.

“My oldest brother, Danny and my oldest cousin, Alex are just under 3 months apart. They’re the first two cousins in our generation and are born from the two eldest daughters in the Andujar fam; my mother Eva and my Tia Martina. Even though their sisters Venesia and Eliana were born about 2 years later, Alex and Danny had a sibling bond that remains strong to this day. They both went on to birth the 2 eldest of the new generation in our family, 2 months apart; Makayla and Sean.”

Primo Hermanos. Alex and Danny, c. 1982-4; Manayla and Sean, c. 2008.

“My brothers and I grew up on Mulberry Street in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. Since then, it has been called Noho and now I think NoLita or whatever the gentrifiers and real estate agents call it. For me, it will always be home. My mom’s smile doesn’t tell the story of a Dominican woman who overcame verbal and physical abuse and raised her 3 kids with the support of her family, primarily her sister, mi tia, who lived about three blocks from us on Mott Street. Our weekends weren’t filled with weekend getaways or play dates. Our play dates were with cousins or close friends from the neighborhood and I wouldn’t trade one day. My childhood was not perfect by any means and God only knows the lengths mami went through to make sure we ate well and stayed warm when there was no heat or hot water in the winter. These smiles have so many individual stories and pain to tell but as a collaborative we have joy and in these moments over 20 years ago, time was still. I look back to that time and am in wonder of how mami made it look easy.  We don’t get to pick our blood family but I am so glad to be a Dominican woman raised by Luisa and surrounded by the Rodriguez Family from Santiago de Los Caballeros.” – Wendy Rodriguez-Figueroa

Wendy’s grandmother and family at her grandmother’s 88th birthday, and Wendy with her mother and brothers. St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral, Little Italy, Manhattan, 1990s, and The Bowery, Manhattan, November 2002.

“This photo is so special to me because it captured a typical Dominican American Saturday date for my family and I. This was right before going to DR for the summer , we would go downtown to 32nd and broadway to shop for vacation outfits and accessories for the low pero a la moda. Good and simpler times.” – Jeny Contreras

Jeny, her mother Nidia, and little sister Isabel. Midtown, Manhattan, 2009.

“At my 1st birthday, I have memories of the slide into the ball pit and the big ugly McDonaldland Tree. My cousins, my mom and my neighbors gathered that day to enjoy McDonald’s, run around the Play Place and celebrate. I visited this McDonald’s many times as a kid.” – Juan Pablo Victoriano Jr.

Juan and his mother Marilyn at Juan’s 1st birthday party. McDonalds on Dyckman Street, April 1986.

“My Sister’s 12th birthday. One of the very few family pictures we’ve ever taken. The only picture that can make me feel 10 again. It was the last time I saw Mami smile like that. The last time I saw Papi love like that. The last time I saw kids being kids. Playing ding-dong ditch, spin the bottle, and red light green light en el pasillo. La vesina from apartment 35, hated us. I had fallen asleep in the secadora that day and woke up with a chichon on the right side of my forehead. Papi played music until the sun kissed the sky. I performed my usual Shakira self-taught choreography to my Tio’s and Tia’s who all thought it was cute. We sang to la guitara de Antony Santos. I sat on Papi’s lap, not knowing that this day would be the last time. One of my happiest memories. We were a family, this pictures holds onto that." – Massiel Alfonso

Massiel and her family in their overcrowded, one bedroom apartment. Dyckman, Manhattan, 2006.

“My sister Venesia is the eldest daughter on my mom’s side of the family. She was born 2 years and a day apart from my brother, Danny. She was always a leader among us, especially as a kid when she would say the ‘darndest things’ that always made some sense; early age intuition. My sister is such a powerful woman, it’s so amusing and humbling to look back at how far she’s come.” – Julissa

Julissa’s sister' Venesia throughout the years, 1980s-2000s.

“This picture is of me and my mom, circa 1976, in our basement apartment in East Elmhurst, Queens. I love it because it captures a beautiful moment, with me looking up at her. Sure she is smoking a cigarette and exposing me to second hand smoke, lol, but the admiration and love in my face is so evident. At the time she worked at a factory in Long Island City, ironing ties, a job she did for 10 years.” – Gina Arias

Gina and her mother. East Elmhurst, Queens, 1976.

Marcelina Garcia Cid or Mama Nina as everyone called her. Arrived to New York in 1979. I always imagine her landing and thinking “this is temporary”. Her goal was never to make the States her home but instead to return to the Dominican Republic as soon as possible, to Padre las Casas. She saved up as much as she could and traveled back and forth. Finally in 2008 she made the decision to toss her green card, move back to the DR and never come back. She said “whoever wants to see me can just visit me here”. We admired her will power to leave the “American Dream” behind and live her dream which was to stay and die in the DR, a dream soo many have and never see happen. She passed away on Dec 7th 2021 peacefully in her home in the DR. Thank you mama for living “your dream” and teaching those you left behind to do the same.” – Michelle Lopez

Mama Nina, and Mama Nina with Jinette, Long Island, NY, 1982 and 1985, respectively.

“Of my mom’s 3 sisters, one still lives in Santo Domingo. 1994 was a great year, both my tia Dilcia and my Tio Neno visited from DR to meet my Tia Kika’s triplets. We’re such a close family that our aunts have the same rights as my mom which also means we pour a heavy amount of love into them. In 2007 when my Tia Dilcia visited, I took her to the S.I. Ferry, a NYC secret my family had yet to tap into. I felt so grown and proud of myself for leading the excursion. The amount of love and fun we have gathering as a family is unmatched. We get excited and entertained by simple things, appreciating life in full, with our favorite tia’s and cousins by our side.” – Julissa

Excursions with Tias. NYC, 2000s. 

“My sister and I are two first generation Dominican girls. Our parents immigrated from Santo Domingo and when they first came to America they moved to W 140ST on Broadway a very Dominican community in West Harlem. My sister here is about 4 and Im about 6 (2 years older). My little sister Lorena is enjoying a chocolate ice cream sandwich from la bodega. I have the best memories of my childhood living here like going to the Riverbank Park, having cookouts and having the love of the community apart of my everyday. Unfortunately, we did have to move because the rent got really expensive pushing us to The South Bronx and it’s where I live to this day! Also my mother is in the separate picture on her own posing in a black dress on the same street.” - Neysy Seleny

Neysy (4), her younger sister Lorena (2), and their mother Yovani Luciano. W. 140th Street & Broadway, Hamilton Heights, Manhattan, 2006.

Photos from Sin’s family archives all taken in Queens, where her family immigrated in the 1980s, and where they’ve been their entire lives since:
(1) Sin, second from the right, and her family, 1994-1995
(2) Sin on the right excited for little brother in 1996, with their mother Maria Josefa, who immigrated to NYC in 1984
(3) Sin on the right at the movies, 1996-1997
(4) Sin and her father, who played Luis Segura exclusively in our car rides as kids, ready for kindergarten, 1996
(5) Sin and her sister, 1996
(6) Sin during her Freshman year of High school, 2004.

“I was such a cool kid. I loved taking pictures and rocking my Cookies/KMart couture. My hair was still natural then and I recognize my adult face in this time period now more than ever. I even find my fashion has bloomed as an adult as I’ve embraced my natural hair. Still, I can’t beat the styles I was rocking as a toddler. All stylist credits to my Mama and my tia’s that kept me fresh.” – Julissa

Julissa as a kid, The Bronx, 1994-1998.

Photos from La Puchi’s family archive, taken in the Bronx between the 1970s-1990s:

(1) La Puchi at the Bronx Zoo.
(2) La Puchi at Roberto Clemente State Park, 1980s.
(3)“This is why representation matters! I waited my whole Bronxbred, Dominicana hasta la tambora life to see myself on TV and Gorditas Chronicles on HBO did that for me FINALLY! CANCELED! Which was so messed up to cancel! Let's get it back on air and make it #1 Andy Cohen would love my side pony! (sidebar) I was like a little girl in my sister Kari (who styled me, did my hair and makeup) and my Dominican mother's clothes and jewelry.”
(4) “Pobre niña rica! Mi papa Jose Antonio Espinal-Taveras era un trabajador y padre de familia. Un Dominicano ejemplar. My bangs are on point! I designed this dress myself with the help of my Dominican seamstress that worked at a Dominican dress shop on St. Nicholas in Washington Heights. My mother loved having all my dresses and accessories made by a Dominican seamstress. My mom Nini was very traditional. I loved that about her!”
(5) “La Princessa de Billingsley! I literally had a legendary birthday party every year! Blessed and highly favored. My parents were known in 1860 Billingsley Terrace, Bronx NY 10453 My family the Espinal-Taveras are legendary for the best Dominican parties and food! (I designed all of my Dominican cakes) FYI the building named me La Princessa when I was born September 13th! It's my childhood nickname.”
(6) La Puchi on her 14th birthday.
(7) La Puchi on the day of her quineceñera.
(8) La Puchi and her husband Ace at a Halloween party. Mercy College Bronx Campus, 1990s.
(9) La Puchi’s DOE photo. She’s a full-time teacher with 22 years of experience, having taught in public and charter schools in the Bronx and Broward County.
(10) “I was told when I was born that I was the ugliest baby girl in the world. God is good. Blessed and highly favored by God. I will inspire millions to love themselves and feel beautiful just the way they are. I am beautiful. God makes no mistakes.”
(11) “The 1st in my family and generation to obtain a Bachelors Degree in Behavioral Science and Special Education from Mercy College. I am also the 1st and only from my generation to obtain a Masters degree in Elementary Education from NSU. My parents didn't finish elementary school education. Education was very important to my parents. Education was my ticket out the hood. Education saved my life. I'm currently applying to NYU Ph.D Education division this fall. God's plan.”
(12) La Puchi and her sister Kari.
(13) La Puchi in front of her childhood building.
(14) La Puchi with the iconic I <3 NY t-shirt.
(15) “I grew up loving Rap, Hip Hop and R&B as much as I love merengue,bachata, bolero, salsa, cumbia etc. I was born and raised on Hip Hop Blvd by 1st generation of Dominican Republic immigrants. Although I was born and raised in the Boogie Down Bronx Yerrr yo soy Dominicana hasta la tambora! This photo Holy Spirit Church Elementary School. I always dreamed of being a singer, songwriter, dancer and actress. God's plan. God's will. I wrote this poem years ago when I used to daydream about it. Now, I'm blessed and highly favored to be living in God's purpose for me. My manifestations come true!”

“From about the mid 80s to the mid 90s, my mom was a professional fashion designer in children’s wear. She’s been sewing clothes since childhood pretty much. Growing up, I got to reap the benefits of a designer mom with all the free swag! More than anything though, it was a massive source of pride for the family to have the matriarch working in a grand place such as an office in the Empire State Building. I’ve always said my fashion education started with her, pounding pavement up & down the garment district. 7th avenue, a whole untapped world for little me. By 1997, she made the decision to leave fashion design and work in special education (and has been enjoying the retiree life since 2019. She still sews for fun too!). And I’ve similarly followed in her design footsteps with perusing costume design in film and tv.

Every time I feel down on myself for not having connections or being in the place I want to be in at work, I remind myself that nobody has anything on me because nobody else has their education and hustle come from a sassy Dominican woman who made a place for herself high up in the Empire State Building.” - Nathalie

(1) Nathalie’s mother Griselda’s graduation photo from FIT, 1987; (2-3) A typical day at the office, c. 1991/1992.; (4) Griselda’s designs in the undergrad fashion show at FIT (Nathalie’s older sister modeling), 1987.; (5) Griselda in the yellow, with her fellow coworkers in the Empire State Building lobby, 1991.; (6-8) Final products of Griselda’s work, 1992.; (9) Griselda’s birthday treat by coworkers, 1992.

“My wedding day to my high school sweetheart Richie (shout out Park West High!) was special for more reasons than one.

Growing up, my family was one of the only Dominican families in Bedford Gardens, a housing complex in Williamsburg, with majority Hasidic Jews. My father Blas, a master barber, and my mother Nereida, the best caretaker in the neighborhood, moved to the building in 1975 with my three brothers and I.

Living in this apartment since the age of two would mean I’d experience many life blessings here. My wedding at 27-years-old would be no exception.

When my Papi was diagnosed with terminal cancer it was really important for me to have him at my wedding day. As an event planner by trade, I had always envisioned myself having a grandiose celebration. But, on a rainy Saturday in March of 2001 a handful of our closest family (and our ring bearer puppy Max) gathered in our apartment to commemorate my union with Richie.

Mama helped me get ready. Papi walked me down the aisle. What could be more grand than that?

I can remember every detail of that day, including the scent of Papi. He passed away shortly after, just two weeks after 9/11. I love and miss him everyday.” - Joyce

Joyce Cuevas Matos and her loved ones on her wedding day. Bedford Gardens, Williamsburg, March 17th 2001.

“Mami used to take me EVERYWHERE with her. From shopping sprees in fordham and burnside, all the way to 181st, the heights. The Dominican culture is so saturated till this day in uptown,and I’m forever grateful…A regular weekly outting as a child with my mom was to the Dominican salon. Dominicans are known for their famous wash and sets…I’m pretty sure my aunt captured this picture, my mom getting her hair blown out while two year old me played with the roller sets lol. Pretty sure I made a mess… it’s giving a ‘Mira muchacha!’ Came right after.” – Hoshi Salcedo

Hoshi and her mom at the salon. 167th Street and Grand Concourse, The Bronx, Summer 1999.

“They met in the late 80's - In Brooklyn, NY. She was a waitress by day and taxi cab driver by night. He worked in a factory in East New York making wallets and a Bodega in the evenings. Eventually they saved enough money to buy the store my father worked in. After that my mother started her own Bodega in East Flatbush. Mami ran her store for over 25 years and Papi is still working at his Bodega with no plans on retirement. They loved each other hard and raised 8 children together. Life wasn't always easy but they always tried their best.” – Michelle

Michelle’s mom and dad; Michelle’s mother in front of her dad’s store; and Michelle’s mom, dad, and childhood friend during Michelle’s Kindergarten graduation. Miller Avenue, 1990, Miller & Hegerman Avenues, 1990s, and PS 213 in East New York, Brooklyn, 1997.

“I resisted the idea of having a Sweet 16 because I didn’t like the idea of subscribing to the gender norms and traditions. Still the women in my life insisted I step into a privilege they never had, my mother and aunts especially who were orphaned in DR way before they could have a Quince. A couple of weeks before the celebration I lost my chosen abuela, a stifling moment and I questioned if the show should go on; I feel confident she’s glad I celebrated anyway. 

The ways I questioned my beauty as a Black Latina were also at the root of my not wanting to have the party, but in my peak teen angst, I realized I wanted to feel seen and beautiful too. I was a drama major at LaGuardia High School and being a Dominicana, gordita,  presentada, from the Bronx, I feared rejection while craving deep validation--I hadn’t navigated a white space like that before. At 16, I had dreams of taking over Hollywood, but settled for the next best thing--turning my Sweet 16 into an extravaganza I could perform at. I entered to Elaine Stritch’s “Don’t Rain on my Parade” and later did a belly dance I helped choreograph, gave out awards, and still made room for some of the traditions. Needless to say I had one of the best Sweet 16 of my class, even though most of the other girls had the financial abundance to have flashier celebrations-- you just can’t beat amazing Dominican cake, food, and music.” – Julissa

Julissa’s Sweet 16. The Bronx, 2007.

“When I asked my father where this photo was taken, he said ‘Studio 54,’ like I could ever think it was a club and not the sala of a family member. I love this picture of him, frozen in time, mid-dance, Studio 54’s main attraction; all eyes in him in a room where all our best family parties went down.

My father is an immigrant from Santo Domingo, who — like so many others — moved to Washington Heights as a teenager to make a life for himself and to create a future for his family. He’s spent his life working hard, all in service of his children. He’s done everything to give us the chance to achieve the American Dream.

Times have changed, and Studio 54 became Studio 71, then Studio 19, and once even required us all to take the bus crosstown to get to Studio 2B. The rooms may look different but the man in the photo is the same. He continues to be my favorite dance partner, always pushing me forward.” – Alessandra

Alessandra’s parents dancing, 1970s.

Photos from David’s family archives:

(1) David’s mom in high school. Corona, Queens, 1996.

(2) “This was the first time my grandparents (paternal) saw me because they flew in from DR and so they were very excited to take tons of videos and photos with their only grankid at the time.” David’s mother and paternal grandmother, Elvia. 14th Street and 8th Avenue, 2004.

(3) David’s mother’s first time in the U.S., experiencing cold for the first time. 1992.

(4) David as a little kid in his family’s old apartment. 168th Street, Washington Heights, Manhattan, 2005.

(5) David and his father in the same apartment. Washington Heights, Manhattan, 2005.

(6) From left to right: David’s Tio Jeison, great grandma Ligia, mother, and aunt. Corona, Queens, 1992.

(7) David’s great grandfather holding David for the first time. Washington Heights, Manhattan, 2004.

(8) Left to right: Tia Michel, grandpa Ruben, David’s mother pregnant with David, Aunt Maite, and grandma Norma, 2003.

(9) David and his mother. Chelsea Apartments, Manhattan, 2005.

“Dominican fathers often get a bad rap. A lot of my Dominican friends were raised by single mothers. I rarely met Dominican kids who had their dad in their lives. I was fortunate to have mine. Dad wouldn’t come to The Bronx if his family couldn’t. Maybe sometimes pa’ disappeared mentally and emotionally, maybe he took a lot of trips back to DR. But pa’ always came back to his family, to me. Dad was there physically. I’m glad he was, because I needed him. I’m my dads first daughter. I like to think I was sent to teach dad a lesson, how to raise a girl when you’ve already had 6 boys. How to be patient and vulnerable, how to teach a girl to be strong. Pa’ and I, we fight, we butt heads, we have similar personalities and we both lack patience, especially with each other. But we keep each other balanced. It hasn’t been an easy relationship, but I value my dad, for teaching, for learning, and most of all, for staying.” – Sonyi Lopez

Sonyi and her dad, Guillermo, on their way to Dominican Parade. Manhattan, 1996.

“Here I am with my squad from high school, Franklin K Lane to be exact, (my cousin Super Daev went to Aviation) reppin’ at the Dominican Parade. I’ve always felt protected and guided when I was with everyone. No one went home hungry, everyone got home safe. But that’s the energy I always feel when I’m around Dominicans. We look out for each other and we support each other. There’s something really powerful about the presence of Dominicans in NY ! Therefore this one is dedicated to the very beginnings of Dominicans in NY, making it happen by any means necessary; from bodegas, to supermarkets, barbershops, to restaurants, (nowadays no more cab drivers), we out here. We been out here! Although I was born and raised in East New York Brooklyn, when someone asks where you from?, I say: I’m Dominican o o que lo que.” – Oscar 1992

(Top row) Oscar 1992, Hermanita Jessy, Charlie, Hermanita Erika; (Second row) Super Daev, Lil Al, Junior, Jose; (Bottom row) Brandon, Salito, and Juan at the Dominican Day Parade in Manhattan. 42nd St. and (for that specific day) Avenue of the Dominicans, 1998.