This is an excerpt from The Saints of Santo Domingo, a book that explores the ascendance of the Dominican Republic’s revolutionary movement, the MPD (Movimiento Popular Dominicano) and the state repression that followed. It is a work of non-fiction. Details have been changed to protect the privacy of the real life protagonists.
Whatever you needed, Franklin had it. Guns, a safe house, a bodyguard, money, contacts within the police to tip off the movement, counterintelligence, hitmen, lawyers to defend political prisoners, or CO’s to smuggle letters and books to comrades in prison. His smile was the key to every vault in Villa Altagracia, a municipality of 180,000 just north of the capital. Everywhere he went, he was well-respected and well-loved.
Franklin had a magnetic personality and whenever he entered a room, he left an indelible impression. First of all, he was enormous. He skied over his comrades and heaved rocks further than anybody. It was rumored that he took out his first police officer with a rock when he was barely twelve years old at a huelga (strike). When the neighborhood mobilized, the combat-tested youth darted into the streets with bandanas covering their faces and towels soaked in water to withstand the tear gas. But not Franklin. There was no hiding a dirigente (leader) who stood 6 6’, 245 lbs. Everyone knew his stance. When news crews interviewed the balaclava-clad youth, Franklin came out on national television; showing his face, confidently looking into the cameras and denouncing the politicians and their cronies, unhesitatingly, without fear of the reprisals that would follow. With complete self-assurance, he stated “If the chivatos (snitches) and police want to come for me, let them come for me. I won’t live in fear in my own country.” Due to his presence and the way he took up space, his running mates baptized him la yegua, the mare or big horse.
La yegua was also a social butterfly. He could talk to the most dispirited grandmother, the loneliest house wife or a classroom full of agitated high school students. He never met an audience he disliked. When he took stage, the room stopped. Audiences were glued to his every word. His mentors bragged that “he threw pages to the left,” meaning that he read voraciously to better understand Latin America’s history of struggle, and the Dominican Republic’s place in this continent wide insurrection. It was these skills that propelled him into a leadership position within el MPD. The top cadre reasoned that once they won over Franklin, they had won over half of Villa Altagracia’s 175,000 inhabitants.
Spellbound
Yahaira was from Villa Altagracia as well but she had left with her family to live in Providence, Rhode Island when she was three years old. Her father was a highly-respected judge who felt iron hot contempt for Franklin and the tigueres (riff-raff) who insisted upon interrupting business with protests that shut down the highways and commerce of the entire town.
Though Yahaira still dreamt in Spanish, truthfully she had a greater command of a foreign tongue. She had graduated at the top of her class as a duel English and Black Studies major at Princeton University. Every summer she returned home to visit her family. She understood little about the national liberation war—the crucible of fire that gave birth to Franklin and his rage. Late night police raids, going underground for months in a neighboring town and wearing police bullets as badges of honor were as foreign to her as bell hooks, James Baldwin, Jesmyn Ward and Richard Wright were to Franklin.
Two destinies, drifting in different life orbits, collided in the summer of 2003. Yahaira was out partying with her cousins when she met Franklin who worked as a bouncer at Villa Altagracia’s largest club, El Caribe. The first time their eyes interlocked, they both felt their knees wobble.
Yahaira was petite, with what the locals called, a guitar shaped body. Franklin—in addition to being a colossus—had a face cut of white granite, with sharp angular cheekbones. He was a heartthrob, and knowing as much he used this trait to call upon his female contacts to help the movement out with favors, lending money to the movement or hiding contacts, who were on the run from the state.
The pair attracted a great deal of attention on their own but together they were the talk of the town. Franklin towered over Yahaira and jokingly swept her off her feet and tossed her over his shoulder to tease her. Yahaira searched for a sidewalk or a park bench in order to reach his lips and kiss him. After dating for the summer weeks, they felt such intense passion that they discussed the option of marriage. They decided to tie the knot so that Franklin could eventually be with her in the U.S. The months the newlyweds spent apart from one another marched at a tortoise’s pace. Yahaira returned every other month, anticipating the granting of her husband’s visa. She became pregnant and now the couple prepared for parenthood with 1,600 miles of distance between them.
After a sixteen month wait, the couple was called to the U.S. embassy. When the consulate agent returned Franklin’s passport with a visa, they looked at each other, wondering if they should cry out of celebration or out of fear. They were about to embark upon a reality that had snuck up on them both, the reality of marriage, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
Disillusioned
The marriage was doomed to fail before the pair shared their one thousandth kiss. Franklin had his culture. Yahaira had hers. They both believed in reading, studying and hard work but for completely different purposes. One was the American dream. The other was the American nightmare. Franklin was never meant to leave the only surroundings he ever knew. New England would pose a threat to his identity and his ego, more formidable than a politician’s bribe or a policeman’s bullet.
Yahaira lived in Providence with her parents and their newborn baby boy, Johan. Franklin weighed his options. Follow the “American illusion” or remain where he was indispensable. Overnight, Villa Altagracia’s highly-decorated marksman became Providence’s stay at home dad. In February 2011, when he exited JFK airport without a coat into the Northeast’s 23 degree, he instantly knew he had made a grave mistake. It took less than one week for him to grow depressed with his new reality. He who stood almost 7 feet tall felt dwarfed by his new environs.
Franklin began to drink and put on weight. Something about American food made him feel lifeless and bloated. Like too many immigrants, he put on the freshman 20. He wasn’t sharp like he had been and his face grew scruffy. La yegua forgot the days before when he rolled out of bed with a glock in one pocket and a book in the other. Villa Altagracia’s Field Marshal contemplated turning his back on the dream and the dreamers but his pride weighed heavy on the see-saw of identity. How would it look if he returned home—from the country of miracles—empty-handed, plump, soft, wifeless and defeated?
Dispirited
He who had commanded a people’s battalion before the onslaught of military police now changed diapers and heated bottles for a living. Without a dollar to his name, he depended on Yahaira for everything. If he wanted mofongo, he had to tell his wife in advance. When they argued about the littlest thing, he raised his voice blaming her for pressuring him into leaving his natural habitat. But his voice dissipated before her screaming retorts. He tried to work but he didn’t yet have a good command of the English language. Yahaira resented his “ignorance” and wanted her own free time to hang out with the cultivated and educated spoken word and hip hop crowd that she was accustomed to. The blame game made them both bitter and at twenty three they carried a mutual resentment, usually reserved for a couple twice their age.
Yahaira kicked him out. The man who had 50,000 homes in his old town, had nowhere to go. He roamed the desolate, frost-bitten streets of Providence trying to remember who he was. The first night he slept inside of a Peter Pan bus station. He began to work odd jobs overnight at clubs cleaning up after the last drunken clientele left at three a.m. He slept on buses during the day. Because of his mare-like size, he was soon asked to work security at the clubs, which was a big upgrade from being an errand boy.
Fortunately for him, Franklin grew up in Villa Altagracia with two second cousins who had immigrated to Providence five years before him. Lost in dead-end, minimum wage jobs that required them to work the graveyard shift at an industrial laundry, his contemporaries found themselves knee deep in the world of hustling. They sold drugs on La Broa—the main drag in Providence’s Dominican community—and in the poor, white suburbs of Cranston, Barrington and Narragansett. They told him if he did a 10pm to 8am shift with them a few times a week, he could earn $125 cash per night. This new rhythm, combined with $75 all-night shifts as a bouncer, earned him a steady income. He learned to hide crack cocaine under trash cans and waited for junkies to come around who needed it. He led them to it, careful not to pick it up and implicate himself in the distribution process. Even the smallest quantity of crack was a guaranteed 10 years federal times under the Rockefeller Drug Laws. Other times he brought cocaine directly to white customers who lived in safer condominiums in the outskirts of Providence. When he made a drop off, he waited around for at least twenty minutes, confident his clientele would need a resupply. A few random customers turning into a dozen plus dependents who called him at all times of the day and night. Cocaine was a safer hustle and earned less jail time than its bastard offspring, crack. Soon he needed to trade in his old hoooptie for a Toyota Highlander to keep up with the runs. It was an ugly world—far removed from the ideals he came from—but he felt defeated when he considered the options. Pride is a heavy stone that weighs on the seesaw of life.
Seduced
When you are poor, money is seductive. When your pockets are full, you feel no pain. Or so the poor think. Franklin was no different. He did anything to stack up more money. Just as the sun drifts far away from the Northeast in December, leaving New England in a four month frozen stupor, Franklin gravitated away from his former world of conviction and righteous action.
The streets were disorienting and depoliticizing. Quick money brought quick power. Scorned, he refused to check in with Yahaira, passive-aggressively leaving her to think he was dead. When he yearned for her, he focused on the final image he had of her patronizingly cursing him out and slamming the door in his face. For a man whose reputation back home was based on loyalty, this was unforgivable. He would freeze to death before he would crawl back to implore her to let him stay with her and their son Johan, who he affectionately called Bombi. He missed his newborn but knew he and Bombi would always be close as he came of age. Lost, estranged and muddle-headed, Franklin was at least his own man again. He promised himself, he would never again be anybody’s burden.
Unstoppable
Franklin began to lift weights again. He returned to the old form that had earned him his nickname. The higher end Latino dance clubs hired him as their doorman. No one, regardless of who knew who, could get into the club without settling accounts with him. Sneakers, Timberlands, baggy jeans, hoodies, and “a sausage fest” were all justifications for a de facto fine, imposed by Providence’s smooth-talking, Dominican doorman. When he rejected individuals or groups at the door, he always opened up a path for their rehabilitation. “No Tims tonight my brother unless you choose to do the right thing.” Or “Sorry hermanita (young sister), those sneakers are a no go. But if you bless us exploited toilers, there could be hope for you.” There was a short Italian bouncer Tony who was a sanitation worker during the week. In his black trenchcoat and polished shoes, he was as slick as Franklin. The two made a formidable team.
If they suspected the revelers carried marijuana, ecstasy or mollies, he patted them down and seized their drugs. They pretended to throw them away in disgust, only to hold on to them and resell the narcotics back to the post 3am crowd at inflated rates. Now la yegua flipped thousands of dollars in a weekend. He arrived at daybreak to his cousin’s’ apartment, squinting as the blinding sun rose above him, smuggling its rays through the curtain blinds.
Exhausted but accomplished, he threw down hundreds of crumpled bills onto his mattress. He didn’t even count the money as he neatly folded it into stacks, but he knew that thousands of dollars were flowering into tens and hundreds of thousands of dollars. He despised money but grew addicted to the freedom it signified. Having never opened a bank account nor written a check, he opted for a makeshift safe in his trunk. Underneath his work out gear, protein shakes and supply of daily fruit, he hid stacks of money in a small chest with a combination lock where most car-owners had a spare tire. The rest of the stacks he sent off to the MPD in the capital. But they suspected something was off. No amount of money could replace the loss of their former Minister of Defense. But Franklin was on top, he was high off of life.
Estranged
He had not seen his son, Bombi in six months. More hard-headed than ever, he vowed to see Bombi but without exchanging a single word with Yahaira.
Both mother and son were elated to see the gentle giant. He held his prodigy for ten minutes and silently listened to her half-apologetic, self-righteous diatribe before condescendingly tossing a tightly taped, thrice folded trash bag at her. Before she could count the four thousand plus dollars in cash distributed in four envelopes, Franklin had descended back to the street. She called after him, but all he heard were the texts streaming in from three other girls and her last cold words at the door months before. Yahaira wanted to take him to court but Franklin had never followed up with his residency papers. To the immigration bureaucracy and city hall, he was a ghost, a non-person. That’s the way he liked it. The U.S. of A. didn’t like him and he didn’t like the U.S. of A. Before heartlessness, the sensitive turn heartless. He saw no future here for himself. His future was back with his people and Bombi would one day understand this.
Coveted
In the Divided Snakes of America, money is freedom. He who has it is the freest of free men; he who doesn’t is a prisoner to scarcity. Franklin was propelled to local stardom. Fast cash meant nicer clothes, a new SUV, street credibility and an abundance of women to blow his money on. Part of his humility faded into the memories of his youth, the others into the mountains of cash that laid before him.
Franklin was inside of one woman, thinking about three others. Before returning to one girlfriend, he saved numerous text messages to drafts in his phone so that he could later send them quick and not provoke her jealousy. He carried two phones, one for profits and one for expenses. No girl he dated knew this so he could never be caught red handed. He couldn’t be in the here and now because he was always everywhere, anticipating the next adventure. Hustling was his addiction and dating multiple women was merely an extension of the constant adventure.
He, who was once somebody, then nobody, emerged as somebody again.
He took all of his people skills, and without an insurrectionary outlet, invested them in the world of hustling. He had two cars. An old beat up 1995 Geo Tracker jeep, for drop-offs and collections, and a $50,000 silver 2004 Escalade, to show off on the town. Every time the police stopped him in his larger-than-life Cadillac, he wore a smirk on his face, as they unsuccessfully searched for illegal narcotics, which he left in his old jalopy. He was the David Ortiz or Big Papi of the underground. Although he felt a deep-seated anger towards the ghetto surveillance, he was as polite as a UN diplomat, addressing them with his thick accent, but maintaining a formal demeanor, just to rub it in their faces that he was one step ahead of them.
One Saturday night, a young drunk driver rear-ended his car. Both the kid and Franklin’s crew grew nervous that the police were not far behind to look into the matter. Panic stricken, Franklin gave the petrified, inebriated teenager $800 and told him to get lost. The kid held the money and tried to compute how his careless texting while driving turned into his salary from three weeks of work at Subway. Seeing him pensive, Franklin gave him a cocotazo (a slap on the head) and told him to get the fuck out of there. Franklin’s destiny was precarious and tragedy was only one 911 call away.
Loyal
Franklin rented a permanent hotel room in Washington Heights, Providence and Brockton. Other drug dealers paid him to crash there so he, again, came out winning. When another hustler charged up a large bill in pornography, Franklin pinned his neck to the wall. Even within his gluttony, la yegua was reasonable.
Out of touch with his MPD family, la yegua stopped reading and projecting their unique worldview. Still, he was not your average hustler. He applied his acumen for insurrection to street adventurism. With all of the women he chased, he picked up Portuguese and Cape Verdean Kreolu. He achieved a certain street fluency and was soon a polyglot. Franklin, who only six months before was a sloth, still in pajamas and in a bathrobe at one in the afternoon, couching it up with a three-year-old, was now on the move. And nothing could stop him.
Still, he was careful not to squander money. He was generous but intelligent. But when it came to women, he knew how to throw down. On a double date his pana (partner) scrutinized the check in front of two Brazilian girls from Marlboro. Franklin rapidly but calmly grabbed the bill out of his hand, without the girls noticing. He switched the conversation, hiding the check under the table. Without confirming the exact price, he removed four $100 bills from his pocket and placed them with the check in the waitress’s folder. Later that night he told his pana full, “Never review a check in front of women. Cover it and figure it out later but never flinch in front of a woman.” Machismo and the code of the streets were not always synonymous with humility.
Invincible
La yegua cornered markets in Providence, Boston, the Bronx and everywhere in between. He checked in with his compañeros back home in Villa Altagracia but felt worlds removed from their everyday struggles. They missed him and urged him to come back home.
This was the era when Dominican baseball players were beginning to dominate Major League Baseball. Manny Ramirez, David Ortiz and Pedro Martinez were rewriting baseball as America knew it. Franklin wore a Red Sox hat everywhere he went. Some Yankee fans challenged his right to represent the Red Sox south of Bridgeport, Connecticut. These incidents were never uptown or in the Bronx, where everyone knew him and the masses of Dominicans rooted for the Red Sox. Twice in Manhattan, Yankee fans south of 96th St. made fun of his jersey and spit on him during the 2005 Red Sox-Yankee playoff series. He calmly left them both in a pool of blood and exited the scene before they could make heads or tails of the situation. A bouncer came out and demanded his ID. He looked back smiling, rattling out his signature shit-talking lines: “Are you serious verdugo (slang for dude, but means executioner?) What are you going to do? Put me in detention? We waited 85 years for this!” It was not his style to look for problems but he resolved them when he had to.
Yahaira reached out to her old confidante, his parents and anyone else to patch things ups. Villa Altagracia’s most humble was seeing so much money he told her, her uppity judge father and her Princeton education, to go fuck themselves. A man scorned on the upswing was impossible to pin down. Impatient, she would have to wait to catch him when his fall from grace arrived, as it inevitably does for every hustler. Resentment has a way of blinding a man’s heart. Still, he visited his son once every few weeks but the visits were brief. When there were dollar signs to be stacked, little else mattered. Now Yahaira was the one who talked to a voicemail.
Alienated
Franklin hated who he had become but he no longer knew who he was. Accustomed to the underground, he did not mind illegality. He wasn’t a slave to anyone’s caprices, not Yahaira’s, her well-off parents nor those of Rhode Island’s courts. Part of him secretly hoped he’d be caught soon enough so he could go back to being the man who had nothing but had everything. Now he had everything but had nothing.
La yegua still had his political training but the ego is a terrible thing. It spiraled out of control. He endeared himself with women using his muela (game) and soft smile to charm them. He never slept in the same place. That was a decision he left to the night. If a woman was well-off and acted drunk and sloppy, he pocketed what he could from her purse or apartment. The street reasoning was that if anyone “got caught slipping,” they themselves were to blame. Besides, he concluded, the money he expropriated funded the movement back home. His moral code grew out of the stark social contrasts that characterized his Dominican homeland. He was lost but loyal. A hustler but a hustler hammered out of a revolutionary street ethic who refused to take advantage of his own people.
The chase became an addiction. But no one can live on a permanent high. What goes up must come down. With the women he enamored, he mentioned using a condom but in the heat of the passion it was a hindrance and he rarely used one. A “real man” and a “limp dick” have no time for each other. He had more than one scare with pregnancies and STD’s. The ebbs and flows began to play with his mind. He wondered how many “hustlers” would today be a Bunchie Carter or Fred Hampton if there was a community to invest in them, applying their “conversation,” street smarts and talents to the future.
Reunited
The Secretariat, the highest body of the MPD, flew an elder leader, Felix, a veteran of the 1965 uprising, to Providence to reel Franklin back in. Felix trained Franklin, his godson, in Marxist ideology and street tactics ten years before. The leadership was deeply saddened, first by Franklin’s abrupt self-exile and then, by his fall from revolutionary grace.
They sat down to dinner. Felix threw his hands up in disbelief:
“Who have you become m’ijo? This is what we taught you? You are that weak that for some rum, yankee dollar signs and women, you are going to sell us out?”
La yegua was both angry and ashamed. On the defensive, he fired back: “Fuck the movement! This is a different world. What is the movement doing for me? This woman fucked me over!”
He knew he was wrong to betray three generations of self-sacrificing MPD warriors, but a broken heart and bruised ego conspired against his MPD training. A satellite out of orbit, his feet could not find any familiar ground to touch.
Felix and his godson never even started their meal. Franklin jumped up pushing his seat back, asserting “I don’t know who I am anymore.” He sent the sixty three year old warrior off with a hurried apology, a trash bag full of Jordan sneakers, new designer clothes and a tightly wrapped plastic bag. Disgusted, Felix threw the bag into his suitcase in the trunk of his brother-in-law’s car. Three weeks later he delivered the trash bag to three MPD leaders in Villa Altagracia’s humble El Caobal neighborhood. The tightly wrapped double trash bag had $7,000 in it, and a note that read “We all have a role to play. Keep playing yours and I will play mine.”
Resurrected
Just as fast as his star had rose in the north, Franklin again fell from glory. His own second cousin, jealous of his ascendance, which left them no room to operate, tipped off the police that the trunk of his Geo Tracker was lined with cocaine. Franklin again returned to nobodydom.
The state sent the popular agitator to languish in a cell, where he nostalgically remembered what it felt like to be somebody. A federal judge from Arizona determined that he would be deported, but not before he served twelve years in a federal prison. After two months in the same federal penitentiary where Leonard Peltier was held, in Leavenworth, Kansas, he received a package from Santo Domingo. He unwrapped the package and took out three books, Eduardo Galeano’s The Open Veins of Latin America, The Communist Manifesto, and Pedro Mir’s Hay un Pais en el Mundo. He took a deep breath, kissed a picture of his son, Bombi and opened The Communist Manifesto. There was an inscription from Felix: “We all have a role to play m”ijo.” He began to read, realizing he was just beginning to live.
[1] Skyed is slang for stood taller than everyone else.
[2] The Saints of Santo Domingo tells the untold stories of the dirigentes, elected revolutionary neighborhood leaders who prosecuted the poor’s war for definitive liberation.
[3] Movimiento Popular Dominicano is the oldest Marxist-Leninist party in the D.R. Thousands of its leaders have been targeted for assassination by the Dominican state because of the fear, dating back to 1963, that D.R. could become “another Cuba.”
[4] Spanglish slang for a close partner.
[5] Two slain leaders of the Black Panther Party disappeared as a part of the FBI’s covert COINTELPRO program.
[6] Made a mistake and acted careless
[7] Dominican national poet.
Dear Danny
You’re not self editing properly, thus:
Franklin could not enter a room without leaving an indelible first impression.
Simplicity in style is always best:
Franklin had a magnetic personality and left indelible impression on everyone who met him.
Best
Alan
Sent from my iPhone
>
I truly believe that hustling is an addiction. When you come from a place that has nothing you try your hardest to get money by any means necessary. When you don’t know what it is to have luxurious things and large quantities of money the moment you do get the opportunity to have it your whole vibe changes. Its an unexplained feeling that you never want to lose sense of. You grasp it with all your power and void out everything else even if its family, friends, and even your morality.
I feel that I can relate more to Franklin because desperate times call for desperate measures and if you don’t do for yourself no one else is. I think that everyone grows and learns with experience and as you go through different stages of life you begin to see that you have to fend for yourself, if you hungry you have to go get it because everyone isn’t going to stop feeding themselves to put a spoon in your mouth. This is exactly what Franklin did he made sure to go get it by any means even if it made situations different from what they once were.
Chapter Response
Samara Downer
I identified with both Frankilin and Yahaira but more so Franklin. Points in which the chapters so a rise and fall in his life is very relatable. Moments of feeling weak and being enticed by the addiction of money is very identifiable as well as be confused about my place in the world just like Franklin. In terms of Yahaira I feel as a women it is sometimes hard to deal with arguments in a relationship and trying to make it work but then giving up which I have done even when wrong. I think Franklin is a strong man and can adjust to his surroundings but he is also prideful and can be mislead. Yahaira I feel is also very prideful and has a hard time admiring her wrongs.
This is a really good story and reflects a reality we try mask. I can relate to Franklin even though not the same story but I have felt that my environment has built an identity that sometimes is against my own principles. Hustling can definitely be an addiction, and once you see yourself with a certain amount of money you want more. Franklin was mean to Yahaira and she had it coming. Franklin revolutionary and independent identity repelled any form of oppression and Yahaira’s family background expected more. I believe this story is triumphant because although being locked up Franklin has the support of “la organizacion” and I believe Yahairar’s too because of the picture of his child. I believe Franklin is going to find his identity, learn more and his leadership will be incredible because he has the knowledge he learn en el barrio, the street and jail knowledge, the books and his talent to speak would be a combination hard to emulate.
I think that hustling can be addictive. I think what made Franklin’s strong connection with hustling was the taste of being somebody else one more time. After he left everything back home and with a new roll play he found himself alienated and hopeless. Hustling was his scape to cope with the struggles of his bad decisions. “We all have a role to play. Keep playing yours and I will play mine” as he said, Franklin understood that he was doing what he had to do at that moment.” He found himself in that situation and el tiro pa’ lante.
Franklin and Yahaira were not mean to each other, I just think that they were not ready at all for what they asked for. They both had things which they were not willing to change or let go. They were not ready
I think that the ending was clear enough. What I understood is that at the end of the day he found his way back, he knew who he was… and this ending was fair enough to me, I wouldn’t appreciate more sad details, I already imagine his odyssey.
Franklin and Yajaira story made me cry. But a lot of people that come to the United States end up getting lost in the idea of getting fast money. So I don’t blame Franklin for Connie getting lost in what his mission was supposed to be but however that does not give them any excuse for being disrespectful to his godfather. If Franklin would’ve continued his rightful journey as the third-generation he probably would’ve been a great example for his kids. Franklin and get up in jail because he wasbrainwashed to think that selling drugs and having a lot of women was the best and the most fun Out of life.
I believe hustling is addictive. Living in the Bronx you can see that for yourself observing your surroundings. People may get caught up since it is seen as easy way to make a lot of money in such a short amount of time. Although it may be dangerous some might like the thrill. Franklin and Yajaria both had their wrongs. In the end they were both mean. When she threw him out she was wrong. Franklin was wrong and he knew it. He decided he had too much pride to go back knowing he loved her. Yajaria would of taken him back. The ending in my opinion was fair he finally found himself again after being lost in this hustler lifestyle.
When a someone hustle to make a living it becomes not only their way of making money but their lifestyle.most of the time these individuals find themselves trapped in it and feel that drugs are the only form of making money they are close minded. I consider the streets and the hustle came to be an addiction that’s unstoppable to an individual, it controls their way of thinking and reaction to everyday life situations. Money plays a huge role in society. Moreover, I believe the story has a very optimistic end because the only path for a drug dealer is either jail or the cemetery.
This story to me is one many young minorities can relate to growing up in impoverished neighborhoods.In life it’s about survival of the fittest. When your back is up against the wall with far and few opportunities fast money to many is better than no money. Many times life situations can take you away from who you are or what you aspire to become. I believe greed play a role in hustling becoming addictive.
This story pretty much sums up how hard it is for someone to come from another country without knowing the language and without help.
Yes hustling can be addicting for the simple fact that you realize how easy it is to make money with little effort. It ends up becoming a thrill as well.
Franklin wasnt mean to yahaira because she should have understood how hard it was to make a living and shouldnt have kicked him out
The ending was triumphant In the end pretty much all good things come to an end but it wasnt such a thing for him because he was able to go back to what his pride never let him do so he was happy about the outcome.
This story pretty much sums up how hard it is for someone to come from another country without knowing the language and without any help.
Yes hustling can be addicting for the simple fact that you realize how easy it is to make money with little effort. It ends up becoming a thrill as well.
Franklin wasnt mean to yahaira because she should have understood how hard it was to make a living and shouldnt have kicked him out.
The ending was triumphant In the end pretty much all good things come to an end but it wasnt such a thing for him because he was able to go back to what his pride never let him do so he was happy about the outcome.
I identified with Yahaira in terms of growing up here in America and getting a good education. However, I felt sorry for Franklin and the hardships he went through. From getting kicked out of the home he shared with Yahaira to finding a way to survive is tough. Back in the Dominican Republic, Franklin was at home, where his roots were. He had to adapt to the way things worked here in America. For someone who mainly spoke Spanish, it was hard. Due to the struggles, Franklin became addicted to money and women. The new lifestyle he got into during his time in America, both on the streets and while he was married, caused him to lose his identity.
This story reminded me of a lot of my friends that went down the road to selling drugs and are now on them, in jail for selling or dead. This type of life style can become an addiction to someone when you start getting use to the money ,the reputation ,the women,luxury living and the craving to do it is hard to let go of.yes I believe that that franklin was mean to yahaira just like she was to him both accusing one another for stealing their lifes away but overall they were young blinded and in love, and in a hurry to go no where,even though franklin gave yahaira money for her and the kid,and money to the movement back home he was set in his ways to having it all and was not giving it up for nobody.
I believe hustling can be addictive. Many people come to the United States, some of them have no choice but to go for the easiest way to get money and power. Sometimes there comes situations that make us take this type of decisions. For example; Franklin had no choice but to do what it took him just to overcome those obstacles he was going through. I also don’t believe Franklin was mean to Yajaira, i think their whole relationships was really fast, they thought they were in love so that made them take wrong choices for each other. I feel like the ending was expected to happen, i mean he knew what he was doing wasn’t right so this led him to jail.
In this life we have to go through arduous situations that makes us take decisions that even though we know is not the right thing to do, but we have to do it in order for us to survive. Franklin was a good, loyal and responsible man, I know it was tough for him to come to a new life system and more if the person that you love shut you down on a place where you don’t have no idea where to go. Franklin wasn’t perfect but the fact he push himself to become a better person, lead him to do things that slowly changed him from who he was before. It is good to be ambitious and be a hustler but when you let all of this get into who you are is really dangerous, not only for your self but also for the ones that you love and if you get addictive, it can destroy and change your life completely. I believe Franklin and Yahaira they both where mean to each other for not understand and respect each other. Therefore I believe that at the end of the story was optimistic because it shows how he influenced himself to change who is his to become who he was.
When your options are limited you have to do what you need to do even if its just hustling, especially if your not from the USA. If its your only means and its keeping you fed its turns to work, but you can’t leave it so easily as you like. Yahaira in a way had it coming, why because franklin was taken out of his natural environment, he doesn’t know the language and cant relate with her cause of her sophisticated education. Franklin is more connected to the people than yahaira, also it was a real quick relationship you got to give it 5 yrs plus to marry hahaha. the story ended the way It needed to because franklin knew what he was doing and took advantage of it cause everything here has a price.
I personally identify with Franklin. growing up in the south Bronx and understanding everything doesn’t come easy and at times you have to do things you don’t necessarily want to in order to make ends meet is a life I know very well. Franklin was a man on a mission back in his hometown and he stood for something and meant something to the people he was around. Once he came to America he was far removed and not ready for this new way of life. a lion is always a lion in or our of captivity. Its hard to change who we are as a person but the vices that come with the streets are tempting and it takes a even stronger person to know when its time to call it quits. fast cash readily available females are an addiction for many and Franklin became a victim to that life as we like to call it
I think i can relate more to Franklin because i have seen how people close to me have fell on the wrong path and taken the easy way, which have led them to terrible outcomes. I feel like we can get caught up with bad companies easily and get caught up in the glory of the moment. This is true about many who come from struggling families and backgrounds. Unlike Yahaira who came from a wealthy family Franklin knew what it felt like to have nothing and suddenly be able to give out money like it was loose change. He got caught up in his hustling addiction, along with drugs and women. Franklin lost his identity because he was not used to yahiara’s lifestyle, he came to a country were he was a foreigner and knew very little about. Back in his country he felt safe and secure, he knew a lot of people and had great influence. He became lost because he no longer found his function is society. he felt belittled by his wife and lost his manhood. His ego let him no where.
I can identify with the path Franklin traveled, although as someone who once stood at similar crossroads, I chose to travel the uncertain path. Similarly I do not hold sympathy for his decisions of choosing a life of hustle. He did have an option to return to his homeland. He allowed his ego to remain unchecked, to which it eventually like his cousins betrayed him. Existing in the realm of a new country, language, and culture can be a difficult process, but Franklin should have stood by his roots and identity. He had the power of knowledge, and gave it up for a taste of a lucid american dream as addictive and destructive as heroin.
Franklin’s overall addiction was the power that he felt when receiving money. From the beginning when he was in D.R. he felt a sense of pride with being able to have a lot of nice things and having people know who he was. You saw his sense of pride and his identity fade when he lost all sense of importance in life. Once he was shown how to hustle and all the money that was pouring in he began to feel like himself again. I do not really I dentify with Yaharia or Franklin because I never been through a situation like this but it was bought upon themselves because when you take someone from there native place and bring them somewhere totally different it takes a toll on the person expecially if they do not speak the language of the country they are going to. More then likely the reason for Franklin’s fade in identity is because he did not know how to cope with the change of being a different country.
I don’t think that I can fully relate to neither Franklin nor Yahaira, but I can identify with certain characteristics that they both have. I think like Franklin I understand the fire within him to be an activist and fight for the rights of my people. But I have never personally had to hustle, but I am close to and have grown up around people who have had to hustle to make a living here in the States and back home in Panama. At the same time I can identify with Yahaira’s mission to educate herself, and surround myself with people who are educated and share her same ideologies. Franklin lost his identity when he came to the States and become a stay at home dad, and he then lost his identity once again when he hit the streets and become a hustler while trying to become the independent revolutionary man he was in DR . His addictions were hustling, money, and becoming the man he once was. In some ways all of his addictions were intertwined, he was fueling one while trying to feed the other. His addiction to having his own money fueled his addiction to hustling because this was the one he was able to get money and girls, and wanting to be el yegua he was in DR was feed by his other addictions.
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I personally didn’t identify with neither Yahaira nor Franklin. Both of their situations are distinct. In Yahaira’s case, “se supero”, she came to the United States and received an education from one of the top institutions in the country but that isn’t everybody’s dream. Franklin was one of those people who didn’t see the U.S as the goal in life. He was living a completely different life in contrast to Yahaira’s. I personally don’t believe that one life was better than the other. They both had their own paths in life. I do sympathize more with Franklin though because I feel like he cared too much about what people had to say,feeling as though his manliness would somehow decrease if he went back to D.R empty handed. He could’ve decided to go back to D.R after he earned the sufficient amount of money to go back but he didn’t and that’s where the addiction comes in to place. Money is an addiction especially if it wasn’t so prominent in your life before. For Franklin he got addicted to the lifestyle that money provided for him and that ultimately ended him up in jail.
Franklin lost his identity twice. The first time was when he emigrated to the United States not knowing the language. He was dependent on his wife for income; he felt like he was losing his self reliance and his duties as a man. He was able to feel independent when he started working out again and hustling for his money (and the women that came along with it), which became his addiction. But, when his comrades from the Dominican Republic came to visit him, they busted his ego. The way he was getting his money wasn’t corresponding with his values and he wasn’t fighting for a cause but rather for selfish means. Both those instances highlighted his losing of his identity.
I can’t say I fully identified with either character but there were some elements of Franklin that reminded me of myself. Franklin, for example, is an intellectual who believed in himself but became complacent and thus depressed because he was not focusing on improving and adapting although he was perfectly capable. I’ve been there before and I’m still trying to strive for better. It’s about knowing your self worth and pushing yourself on the daily no matter how hard it may seem.
I feel that hustling can become an addiction because people that hustle are people that started off from a bad place in their life psychology and the economically so when you start seeing money and the high income is kind of hard to stop and it’s even worst when you become good at it because is there and then that you getting out of the game of hustling reaches almost the point of no return
I identified with Franklin a lot more then Yahaira because Franklin was taken out of his world, he was taken out of his comfort zone and it took a toll on him and i can understand that. Yahaira wanted him to adapt so easily but it takes time and she should have helped him a lot more, maybe try and teach him some English. Also it was wrong for her to just kick him out like that after she brought him from the Dominican Republic and knew he didn’t have anywhere to go. Franklyn lost his identity because he did not know any English and therefore could not find work. He became depressed and starting drinking and became fat. Then Yahaira kicked him out and he started selling drugs. To me his addictions were money and women. He wanted to make a lot of money and was juggling between a couple of women.
I don’t think that I can fully relate to neither Franklin nor Yahaira, but I can identify with certain characteristics that they both have. I think like Franklin I understand the fire within him to be an activist and fight for the rights of my people. But I have never personally had to hustle, but I am close to and have grown up around people who have had to hustle to make a living here in the States and back home in Panama. At the same time I can identify with Yahaira’s mission to educate herself, and surround myself with people who are educated and share her same ideologies. Franklin lost his identity when he came to the States and become a stay at home dad, and he then lost his identity once again when he hit the streets and become a hustler while trying to become the independent revolutionary man he was in DR . His addictions were hustling, money, and becoming the man he once was. In some ways all of his addictions were intertwined, he was fueling one while trying to feed the other. His addiction to having his own money fueled his addiction to hustling because this was the one he was able to get money and girls, and wanting to be el yegua he was in DR was feed by his other addictions.
I identified with Franklin because of his circumstance that led him into a desperate state of helplessness. Franklin, who was once the symbol of valor and loyalty in his natural habitat, now became the hustler and the drug-dealer. It is sometimes impossible to make rational choices because we are so blinded by immediate gratification that we fail to preserve morality in our lives. It was a stain on Franklin’s ego and masculinity that he depended on his wife Yahaira for financial needs. So therefore, he took a step forward to regain control over his life. Now, I am not defending Franklin for wandering around the streets of drug and crime. I am modestly suggesting that given his circumstance, anyone would do as he did if there were no other appropriate means of earning reasonable amount of money.
Soon Franklin lost his identity from a revolutionist in Dominican Republic to a drug dealer in United States. He found himself plunged into the swamp of drugs, women and finally prison. “When you are poor, money is seductive. When your pockets are full, you feel no pain, or so Franklin thought.” Danny Shaw once again employs the use of language that leaves his readers in awe. His writings can mend your heart while breaking it at the same time.
I identify myself more with Franklin because he had a steady job but started getting into selling drugs. I found that interesting because he started creating his own business to supply others with drugs. I recently seen a show called “Narcos” and the show relates to Franklin as well. I believe franklin lost his identity when he came to the untied States and started getting involved with fast money. Franklin’s addiction was hustling. Hustling it self can because an addiction because he constantly wanted to be busy making money.
I identify with Franklin a little because he left a life that he knew had to adapt to a new life style. The reason being is i came from a warn climate place, never eating fast food. The difference between the two of us was our age and i think that may have been good in my favor, because it made it easier for me to adapt to a new place.
I identify with franklin because when I was younger I moved from a foreign country to New York and it was completely different the weather the food and how fast you would put on weight
Even though it may seem, like you can raise back up from where you have fallen, if the person doesn’t fix what causes their downfall, he will most likely end up right back in the hole he attempted to come out of.
The unfortunate truth is that, in our society, money equals power, and those that are without money are severely disadvantaged as a result. When a person is impoverished, and finds themselves presented with the opportunity to change that, they will do so, no matter what the cost. To those without it, and to those that have been without it for all their lives, money is, or becomes, everything when obtained. For this reason, money (and the power that comes with it) goes to the head, and, as in the case of Franklin, leads to an inevitable downfall.
Great Article!
Franklin started off as Ying and, after life hit, became the “Yang”, however, the point of his life, at least from some super, “God-has a plan for us all”-perspective, was to show human perseverance within a dark city, Gotham, and prove that, despite the obstacles, where there’s a will there’s a way. Franklin is an inspiration, maybe to the youth or maybe to the elderly, maybe not for you and your current life position, but, to another, definitely. At the end of it all, he was eventually caught for the role that he was playing and, whether you agree or not, you’ve definitely gotta respect the hustle (or at least acknowledge it.)
There are three quotes from the excerpt that really stood out to me. The first being, “The chase became an addiction”. I feel like people who end up going down the same path as Franklin can relate to this quote. To some extent, I can even relate to Franklin when it comes to perusing monetary gain. We are all out in the World struggling to make money and to be somebody. How we go about it is what differentiates us.
The idea of an American dream is one which can be altered as we see a good example of Franklin reaching the high life yet falling apart in the end. Starting from nothing as he came fresh into a new country, Franklin hit reality of the mistake he made and the hardness of life. Being stuck in a situation where he had to choose between death and the struggle for life, I do not blame for the path Franklin took as it was needed for him to survive.
One cannot change their culture. For example, when Franklin went out of his environment he did not adjust well to the language nor the food. He was a well respected man in his country but once he stepped into the United Stated he was a nobody. A person like Franklin likes to fell powerful and so he did in the U.S sell his drugs to get his own identity back.
I really enjoyed reading this excerpt. I was truly rooting for Franklin and Yahaira but their plans for their lives were very unrealistic. They met in country where they both spoke the language and had support and love from friends and family. They got married, pregnant, and Franklin moves to United States was not well thought out plan. Moving from one culture to another is not an easy thing to do especially when you don’t speak the language and don’t have a support system. Franklin was used to be in charged and him becoming a hustler, after feeling like a burden to his family, is not surprising.
Franklin experienced a common “side effect” that occurs when you come from a foreign land to start a life in a completely new world. He is tempted by money and power and he is determined to achieve his goals at all costs. Franklin will realize this has lead him to his own failure. Almost stripped away from his identity from the new place and his wife he is presented with many obstacles that will serve him only to realize that he has forgotten his principles learned back home.
Franklin’s story is an example of how easy it is to become seduced by money and power. Also, it shows how settling in the United States has a huge impact on an immigrant’s life and can change them for the better or worse. The immigrant experience is definitely a difficult one, but many have chosen to make the best out of it. Franklin made wrong decisions that lead to his downfall.
This was an extremely interesting article. Many people can relate to something like this because money does take a big part in our lives. Sometimes ambitious and our ego takes over the best of us. I admire Franklin for going out of his way to become someone again. I don’t agree with the way he did it but no one is perfect.
I identified with Franklin. He was a risk taker and fought for what he believed in. I also identified with Yahaira. She was a strong intelligent woman who took care of her family. Yahaira understood Franklin and she was there for him. Even through the culture differences, they were still able to stick through it. I feel like Yahaira should have never kicked Franklin out because of his appearance. He was new to the country and go tied into the lifestyle and culture of eating fast food and other unhealthy food items. But when Franklin started hustling and cheating, I feel like he became addicted to that lifestyle. I do think that hustling is an addiction because its living the fast life. Fast money and multiple women, it all seems like the beauty of life, but it isn’t. Life is about working hard and accomplishing all you set out to accomplish. Nothing comes easy and nothing is free and easy in this world. Franklin didn’t appreciate the woman he had, so it caused him to go in a different route. He got caught up in the American lifestyle. The environment changed his ways. Just like the movie El Cantante, Marc Anthony played Hector Lavoe, the first singer to introduce Salsa. Hector lived in Ponce, Puerto Rico and he was as what people call “pure”. But then when he came to New York City to follow his dream to become a singer, he met his wife Pucchi who was played by Jennifer Lopez and he became apart of Fania Records and was introduced to heroin and all sorts of drugs and alcohol which caused him to get AIDS from sharing needles and mentally depressed and eventually leading to his death. I am saying this because it is so easy to get yourself wrapped up in trouble when you adjust to a new lifestyle. Even though growing up if you were taught morals and values, all of those things fly out the window. The world has drastic effects on human life.
I can definitely relate to Franklin’s because being Dominican and coming from a family of a lot of men that have experienced this before. I have uncles that went through this situation where money played a big part in their lives but have gotten so wrapped up in it that they lost their ways. Now they are back in Dominican Repliblix deported.
Being from the Dominican Republic this story is very familiar to me. I have an Aunt that a similar situation happened to her. I like that I can relate to it but yet gives you drama. Good job
I personally did not identify with neither Yahaira nor Franklin.The reason I cannot relate is because money does not take a big part of my life. Franklin story can relate to a lot of people who was lured into the success of money and power. Franklin is the true story of how many Americans would respect base on the authority he had towards a lot of people. Yahaira was a strong woman who had a mission and goal to educate herself and surround herself with the right people. I would not consider Franklin a take home to momma kind of guy based on the addiction he has for making fast money. Fast money is not good money but being from D.R I can understand why he wanted the fast life. El yegua !
Franklin after moving to America changed for the worst he was so in love with yahira before he came to America and became a product of his environment. He was a cheater and he lost all his family values which caused Yahira to leave him. I can relate to this because my husband is from Trinidad and he came to America with his home values to lose it in the American way. I would also leave him due to infidelity and the disrespect of not putting his family first.
This reading is so interesting to me, and I am very excited about reading the entire book. Born in the Dominican Republic but growing up here, like Yahaira, it is hard for me to actually understand the struggles our people deal with back at home. Sometimes coming from nothing and getting so much at once makes people forget where they came from, sadly that is what happened to Franklin, it became so easy for him to make money and gain power that it made him forget who he was. Everyone coming here from home, expects the perfect American Dream, but not everyone has the same luck, some have it easy, some have to work harder then others, and some are just not strong enough to remain humble. Franklin story is one that repeats itself over and over again with our fellow immigrants, they find themselves stuck, with the only way out being illegal actions. Before they know it their life is over. I look forward to reading the rest of Franklin’s story where I expect everything to turn out in his favor and he can finally be truly happy, but this is reality.
-Perla Consuegra
LLS 124
Franklin’s life is very hectic and has problems in which many individuals may have gone through. He focused his life on hustling which led him to have a major downfall after. A vast amount of minorities who live in rough neighborhoods have gone through this situation. His story illustrates how difficult it is for those who come from latin countries without knowing the english language and without having anyone to help and support you. He came to America and changed for the bad because he was so known in the Dominican Republic for all the good. Franklin got to caught up with the amount of money he got from hustling that he forgot to think of the priorities there are in life. Hustling took away who he actually was and the future that he had ahead of him. A reason as to why he would stick to hustling was maybe because he used it as a way out of his other problems. He thought that living the life was all about having women and lots of money but than later on he realized that it was not like that. However, it was to late to try to get back with Yahaira, and start a future.This story is good for those who have recently arrived to the United States because it shows that bad decisions can cause one to ruin their future.
The hardships, struggles, and obstacles that Latinos are faced with on a daily basis originate from a mixture of the past, the present, and the future. In similarity to many immigrants, Franklin is someone who went from having almost everything he wanted and needed in the Dominican Republic to eventually throwing it all away with unfortunate decisions and terrible mistakes. Countless people, like Franklin, will always have a certain mindset that there is more to experience in life; therefore, causing him, along with several others, to desire a better future for themselves. For Franklin, money, power, and women were the most important things to him, despite the fact that it pulled him away from his people, his home, and his sense of belonging and purpose as he migrated to the United States. Sometimes moving to another location is not all what it appears to be. False expectations, hopes, and realities are exposed as not everyone will have similar experiences. Adjusting to a new lifestyle is always going to be difficult and Franklin’s narrative uncovers a deeper interpretation of a new beginning that makes it hard for him to accept the truth he both, attempts to avoid and so desperately seeks. I was very much moved by Franklin’s story in which I know many individuals who have come across the same wall of boundaries and barriers that have changed who they ultimately were, in ways that they never would have imagined.
This story is so very true! A lot of people come to the USA thinking that they’re going to be able to get a great salary job right away especially without proper education and that is not always the case. They start to crave fast and ” easy ” money. Then, they fall into the wrong business and start selling drugs. This risk their whole life and reason as to coming to the United States. On the other hand, Franklin wasn’t sitting on his ass. It wasn’t easy, but he made it work in his own way and a way in which he thought was best. The drug industry is very dangerous and you don’t have any friends! It is an industry in which money comes first no matter what. I understand how Franklin felt, he didn’t like who he became, and it happens so much more common than it should.
This topic hits close to home because it is directly correlated with my culture and my experiences. Recently an uncle of mine came to live in the United States from Dominican Republic and he was telling my mom and I how different it was. Back in Dominican Republic he was the boss at his old job. After he came here he had to start from the bottom all over again. He experienced some struggles that he hasn’t encounter beforehand because they’re unique to being an immigrant in the United States. In Dominican Republic, he owned a home that housed his family of four comfortably compared to the studio apartment that his family and he are now tightly living in. Working more than he ever has before has changed his perception of who he is as a person. Just like Franklin my uncle lost his sense of who he was as soon as he lost his title and his power.
This story reminds me of everyday life of a minority living in a bad neighborhood or people living in the projects. I relate people living in the projects to this story as far as hustling and doing whatever it takes to make it somewhere or making money. They would sell drugs, or even attempt a robbery so they can make some kind of profit from it. I also relate this to minorities living in a bad neighborhood because that was me and my friends. But the people I knew would hustle so much until they got all the money for non sense accessories. But even when they got the accessories they couldn’t stop and kept chasing the money. I did it in another way, I went out to seek jobs and if I had to get two jobs to survive I would do it. So I can relate to this story. At the end of the day, people see it as survival of the fittest. But people need to realize that there is more life to this world rather just hustling.
As I was reading this article, I realized that in this life you could be on top of the hill or at the bottom of nothing. The story of Franklin and Yahaira was a sad story. I started to cry when I read how is possible that one love story can be ended is this way?
Franklin was a risk taker and he always fought for what he believed in. On the other hand, Yahaira was a strong woman. It was a couple that completed each other, but a little thing changes your whole life. One thing and here we are ending in an unbelievable way.
For many people coming to the USA it’s a dream. I agree with that because in many other countries the life is so difficult. The economy is too low and coming to the USA the life will change. But nothing is like you think or dream. For Franklin was a disillusion. He thought that he is going to get a great salary job, but what happened is a disaster. Entering to the drug industry was the best solution. I personally don’t blame him because he had to do something to survive. Even though doing that kind of job is wrong but for him choosing that was the best choice. He come to the USA without knowing nothing, nobody. He had to adjust with the environment. Coming to a new lifestyle will lead you to wrong paths like hustling or cheating. That’s what Franklin did.
As I said before, it was a way of surviving in this wild world. I totally understand how Franklin felt, he didn’t like who he became but in this world you have to face out with all good and bad things.
That’s human life.