The Season of Rebels and Roses by Virginia Sánchez-Korrol

Author:Virginia Sánchez-Korrol
Format: epub
Publisher: Arte Público Press
Published: 2018-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

The time came to move onto the day’s work, and Inocencia slid open the pocket doors to the dining room.

“Please, my friends, take a seat around the table. My husband kindly prepared a packet of materials for each of us.”

Each woman brought special talents to the table. Señora Alvarez, the American-born wife of a Cuban physician, socialized among the wealthiest expatriate families, many of whom were philanthropists. She was comfortable in the white, professional class made up of physicians and bankers, factory owners and sugar barons, all essential connections for the fundraising that lay ahead.

“At this moment,” said the bubbly señora, “the Sociedad de Beneficencia Hispano Americana is raising money to build a hospital. We all should pledge our support for this worthy cause and buy tickets for their next gala!” The lady’s dark brown eyes sparkled brightly, a cloud of curls and ringlets bouncing to her every move. She innocently gazed around the table expecting enthusiastic support from the women.

About to bulge out of her head, Doña Gertrudis’ coal black eyes stared at the speaker. The nerve! Does she honestly believe it’s that easy for some of us to attend the galas of the wealthy?

Doña Gertrudis and Dominga Muriel understood life among the poor. They lived in working-class neighborhoods where people earned their wages in cigar factories, small bodegas, neighborhood restaurants, barber shops and boarding houses. Their neighbors often didn’t know if there would be work from one week to the next. Gertrudis and Dominga had organized racially integrated groups, and both could testify on that subject to the ladies at Inocencia’s table. As a black woman, Gertrudis had encountered painful confrontations in her political organizing efforts.

“Ahem, if I may be so bold . . . ” Doña Gertrudis folded her hands on the table, her gold wedding band brilliant against the darkness of her skin, and proceeded to enlighten the group the way she did when teaching the student midwives at her clinic. “Before we move ahead to form this club, all of us must be aware that this will be a club composed of white, black and mulata women. There will be more than one hotel, restaurant or hall that will not allow us the use of their space because there are colored women among us.”

Eva Betancourt and Adelina Sánchez lowered their eyes, uncomfortable with Gertrudis’ account of discrimination, but the rest focused intently on the woman’s every word.

“It saddens me to say,” she continued in her quiet, articulate manner, “that I have suffered such embarrassments in the past. When making arrangements at one place and paying them our hard-earned deposit, we’ve found out on the day of the event that we were not welcome!”

Most of the women present sympathized with Gertrudis’ cautionary tale. She was, after all, a woman who commanded respect. Midwife to many of their families, Gertrudis was also the one they sent for to prepare their deceased for burial. Because she kept their secrets, she had earned their trust.

“It means,” Doña Gertrudis continued

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