Apr 24, 2019
The Radio Repairman Who Started a Movement in Cuban Music
He begged his mother to let him buy the guitar. When she refused, reminding him that it was half of the month’s rent, he wept.
The man in the fur hat warned me things might be different after we crossed the time barrier—that my presence might confound, even frighten those who’d forgotten me.
Sometimes I joke that I’m already primed for motherhood because I’m already well-versed in guilt, blaming myself for things over which I have little control.
How do I raise a child to love a world that may be dying, to live with compassion in the midst of what could very well be despair?
