Ninety miles from Key West is an island full of inopportunity, a few miles from there another island occupied by despair and though from similar worlds, there lies a ton of differences.

Picture this, one foot on dry land, another foot still floating in the ocean. The right foot is allowed to find the freedom it was seeking, yet the left foot has to be shipped back like used cargo. Two policies, two different countries yet one person shares the same blood. A Haitian-Cuban has what choices? Does her Cuban side run at the chance of being free and living the carefree “American” life reserved for her here in Miami? Or does her Haitian side decide to share the pain, grief and plight of her people as she is shipped back to a country that offers her no hope, no happiness, and no life?

How ironic can it be for a young woman of mixed race to be caught in the middle of this Cuban/Haitian double standard? At what point does she choose sides? Her loyalty is split, her allegiance is shared. Half of her heart celebrates as she watches CNN when they report that 22 Cuban refugees walked to the Rickenbacker Causeway and were greeted by blankets, shelter and even donuts. The other half mourns the one Haitian refugee that lost his life while traveling from Haiti with 101 others who are now Chrome detainees.

Ripped apart by her Cuban friends who wanted to cheer for Elian years ago in the street of Hialeah, how could she have stood proudly with them, when in Little Haiti her Haitian brothers and sisters are still turned away before even given the chance to have their voices heard.

Growing up she used to think that being able to fit in with the rainbow of crowds at her school was the greatest gift. The Blacks accepted her because her hair was slightly coarse, the Latinos embraced her because her Spanish was flawless, the Caucasians loved how clearly she spoke English, and the two or three Haitians students were proud to tell their friends while pointing at her, as if a trophy, “Yeah, she’s Haitian!”

Adulthood has been more difficult though, because as these life altering issues arise, her co-workers always ask the daunting question “Isn’t it great? – “Isn’t it sad?” not knowing that having visited Haiti she knows first hand what lies beneath the impoverished souls of these rafters, and on the other hand hearing Castro stories from her Abuela and father she knows the disparities her Compadres face as well. Now a mother herself her heart continues to break as she attempts to explain to her children why Pride is the only thing that sets them apart. Knowing their rich cultures, both Haitian and Cuban, will lead them to be able to stand firm as life continues to throw them curve balls, and it most certainly will.

When Mary MacGregor sang, “Torn between two lovers, feeling like a fool…” this Cuban/Haitian thought life couldn’t get any more difficult than having to choose who to love, but paradoxically she now has to decide, “Cry with my mother, the Haitian, or cheer with my father, the Cuban?”