Finding refuge, forging community: María Cordero’s story

Looking out from the window of her family’s Chicago apartment, a two-year-old María-de Jesús Cordero and her mother would watch, eyes lit up with wonder, as the sky turned white and the ground donned an arctic blanket. 

“My mom asked, ‘What’s this fuzzy stuff falling from the sky?’” said Cordero, now associate professor of Latin American and Caribbean studies at Utah State University. “Eventually, she called my aunt, and my aunt laughed at her and said, ‘Oh, that’s snow!’” 

Cordero’s journey to becoming a professor at USU is a winding one. Only a few days prior to her first experience with snow, she and her family uprooted their lives from the island country of Cuba and boarded the Freedom Flights to Miami in hopes of finding refuge from the rule of Fidel Castro. The Cordero family then moved from Miami to Illinois, and Cordero became well-acquainted with snow, living life as a Cuban-American immigrant in the frigid cities of Chicago and Logan.

“My family came to the United States from Cuba in 1969 — exactly 10 years after the revolution,” Cordero said. “By that time, the economy was in turmoil, and food was being rationed.”

Cordero’s story begins with hunger. In 1962, Castro implemented a food rationing system known as “La Libreta,” or “rations booklet,” under which Cordero’s family would struggle. As part of La Libreta, each Cuban family receives a booklet allotting each member a certain amount of food according to age and sex, and this allotted amount would vary drastically over the years.

“My father was the one in charge of standing in the long food ration lines,” Cordero said. “Often, people would end up waiting for hours in the hot sun, and when they reached the front of the line, there wouldn’t be any food left. When that happened, it wasn’t like they gave you extra the following month — you just lost the opportunity.” 

With two young, anemic children and a third on the way, Cordero’s father would grow increasingly worried about his ability to feed his family.

“My father would become extremely frustrated and would stand in the middle of the plaza and decry the food shortage and the fact his young children were suffering,” Cordero said. “It was a health problem for children, for pregnant women, for everyone.” 

Opposition under Castro’s rule was met with swift punishment, as dissenters were often imprisoned and executed through death penalties. According to the Cuba Archive database and Human Rights Watch, the Castro regime incarcerated thousands and orchestrated 6,800 Cuban deaths by firing squad or “extrajudicial assassination.”

“My dad was used to roaming about freely and saying whatever he thought about things,” Cordero said. “Because he was decrying these problems, he was at risk for being detained, which was another reason for having to leave the country.” 

Pushed by unpredictable food conditions and increasing civil rights infringements, Cordero’s family sought immigration to America. 

“My parents announced that we were leaving, which is what you had to do, and then you had to wait,” Cordero said. “Often, it was a number of years before you obtained permission to leave.” 

While Cubans wishing to leave were technically “free to do so,” as declared in 1965 by Castro, the process was far from simple. Cubans trying to leave often faced retaliation and long wait times.

“My mother was a pre-K teacher, and any teacher who said they planned to leave was considered dangerous and immediately lost their job,” Cordero said. “You had to be able to afford a period of time in which you couldn’t work.” 

Following Castro’s 1965 announcement, thousands of refugees flooded the shores of Key West, overwhelming the U.S. Coast Guard and Citizenship and Immigration Services. The U.S. and Cuba would begin the Freedom Flights program in response, and for the following eight years, ten flights a week would transport immigrants from Cuba to Miami. 

“We were able to obtain visas and left on the

Freedom Flights out of Varadero,” Cordero said. “I remember my mother being extremely nervous, and I was wondering what was going on.” 

Cordero went on to earn a PhD at Princeton University and teach at USU. Learning an entirely new language to navigate a country of different cultures, customs and ways of life presents refugees and immigrants with a unique set of challenges. 

“Some of the biggest challenges they face is the culture shock, the language barrier and finding a sense of belonging,” said Lizette Villegas, community health worker at Cache Refugee and Immigrant Connection. 

Children of first generation immigrants often find themselves stuck between the culture they know and the culture they must learn to navigate. 

“When I was a child, I was traveling between two very different worlds,” Cordero said. “At home we spoke Spanish, ate Cuban food and listened to Cuban music, but then I would go to school where everything was in English and the food was different. Sometimes, I would bring my lunch, and the other kids would stare and think it was disgusting, and I felt embarrassed.”

Reconciling different languages and cultures is often an obstacle for immigrant and refugee families. According to Cordero, these differences can place undue burden on the children of these families, requiring them to act as an intermediary.

“I was also the bridge between my parents and the teachers because I would have to translate for them,” Cordero said. “Although that was a source of great pride, it was also a huge responsibility that a child should not have. As the oldest child, my parents always relied on me for things that children aren’t usually responsible for. ”  

According to Cordero, immigrant families often experience unique loss manifested in a variety of ways, whether it’s leaving behind family in far away countries or burials in places which aren’t quite home. 

 “I remember leaving behind my grandfather and never being able to see him again. My mother never saw her parents again. My sister and my father passed away, and it was hard to bury our first family members in foreign soil,” Cordero said. “Now, my mom is in hospice, and I’m struggling to decide whether to bury her in Logan, which is not just another country but another part of the country from what she was used to.” 

 While refugees leave their countries under stressful or dangerous circumstances, they often take with them the most valued parts of their respective cultures: traditions, music and language. For Cordero, food is one way she lives her Cuban heritage.  

 “To this day, my favorite food is Cuban ‘arroz con pollo’,” Cordero said. “Whenever I came back home from school to visit, my mom always had a plate of arroz con pollo ready for me.”  

 Cordero advises refugees and immigrants to seek out resources who can provide legal counsel and other forms of aid. 

 “Learn more about your legal rights,” Cordero said. “There are organizations such as the Catholic Church that are trying to help immigrants and refugees understand their rights.”  

CRIC is one such organization focused on creating community, handling casework, helping immigrants find housing and jobs, connecting immigrants with schooling and education resources and ultimately making Cache Valley home.  

 “We try to make CRIC into a third space for immigrants and refugees — their family away from home,” Villegas said. “We try to build as many cultural activities as we can so we can all learn from each other, and we also hold different types of classes so they feel informed and connected.”  

 Community health workers at CRIC value rapport and building communities on a strong foundation of trust. 

 “Trust is of the essence,” Villegas said. “Where they’re coming from, it’s hard to trust people, so trust is very important, and we try to build that by helping them with paperwork and questions and connecting them with resources.” 

 An uptick in U.S. Immigration Customs Enforcement raids and recent attempts from the federal government to end birthright citizenship, defund humanitarian organizations and detain and deport without due process has sparked old and new fears about the status of immigrants in America, according to Cordero.  

 “One of the insights I’ve gained is that there is a lot of racism,” Cordero said. “I think it’s born of fear and misinformation, and it doesn’t need to be that way. It’s important to urge people to reach out, not to be afraid and to see others as potential friends and an opportunity for learning.” 

 Cordero argues the best way to combat racist attitudes is by building friendships and having those tough conversations, regardless of ideology or political affiliation, with open minds. 

 “People need to sit down and talk with each other face to face and cross that divide,” Cordero said. “We’re at our best in this country when we can have conversations and see what the other side has to contribute that is positive. How deep can our friendships be if we can’t talk to each other?”