Tag Archives: sixth-grade

Spanish Speaking and Ready

I was more Spanish than the other Spanish kids.
That’s me on the left.

I had been keenly conscious that I needed to be Spanish speaking since I was four years of age and as such I endeavored to become more Panamanian in that sense than my aunts and uncles of both coasts of the Republic. Continue reading

Part of Both Sides Now

For me the resulting experiences of those days that had just passed me by had left questions that the weekend moments of reflections would help to fill in. But it had not been as cut and dry for me being only an adolescent boy still intrigued by those expressions of kindness towards me. In the meantime, I was more than puzzled at the way things had turned out for me at school. I only hoped and prayed that the time left for me would favor me as well in that month of the final year at primary school. Continue reading

Examining the Scars

The reality of the night before, of dancing all night and of having had the best time of my life, had vanished with the quiet of a Saturday morning that took its effect on a budding fourteen year old boy. I awoke to find that self that I, again, had to deal with- the Westindian man child, an individual of the Negro race whose peers in the barrios would still have problems dealing with. Continue reading

The End of a Fairytale


The surreal darkness of early morning was like a clean slate to my fragile ego. As we all gathered outside the school entrance to start our way home from the dance my classmates surrounded me and my date for our stroll home. I thought of the wonderful and long forgotten feelings of happiness I had felt in the remote past and how at that moment I couldn’t be more jubilant. Continue reading

The “Pasos” of Good Dancing

Image thanks to 4everdancing.com


By 1950 we were nearing half a century of Republican life and, from first hand knowledge, the youths of the country were already demonstrating an angry countenance that reflected Barrio poverty and the meager futures that awaited us. Continue reading

A Dance with My Princess Charming

The Bolero
Image.

The night began working its charm and I could hardly control the anticipation I felt from just thinking about the magical dance I was finally about to enjoy. The stage was set and we had arrived- we all had finally grown up. Oh, to be men and women, I thought, as I watched all the “kids” turned young adults begin to pair off, walking away hand in hand. They would then unite again face to face in some spot near the bandstand as they embraced on the dance floor. Continue reading