Key Takeaways
- The author’s Cuban heritage is symbolized by a wall‑mounted wood‑burning picture of a Cuban farm.
- Both grandfather and father hold divergent views on potential U.S. intervention in Cuba.
- Grandfather backs Trump as the “only one who could open a road” to liberation; father warns against external imposition of democracy.
- The author personally opposes U.S. military action, fearing it will worsen Cuban suffering already exacerbated by sanctions.
- Historical U.S. policies—from the Bay of Pigs to the embargo—continue to shape the island’s present hardships.
- The piece ends with a yearning for a free, stable Cuba that allows family roots to finally be visited.
Setting the Scene
At 4:01 a.m. on June 7, 2026, I awaken to the faint glow of a wood‑burning print hanging on my New York City apartment wall. The artwork depicts a simple island tableau: a farmhouse in the foreground, a towering palm tree, a barbed‑wire fence, and distant mountains. This modest scene is the sole tangible reminder of my Cuban ancestry, the homeland that forced my grandfather to flee as a teenager during the 1959 revolution.
Personal Connection to Cuba
Cuba occupies a layered place in my family narrative. My paternal grandfather, a middle‑class Cuban who escaped to the United States in 1962 through Operation Pedro Pan, built a new life in Kansas before eventually settling in Florida. My father, born in Orlando and raised amid Cuban cultural enclaves, views his heritage through a lens of distance, while I, raised on a blend of Southern whiteness and Caribbean roots, feel both a pull toward and a detachment from that island identity.
Grandfather’s Perspective
During a June phone call, my grandfather—an anthropologist with a doctorate from Rollins College and a lifelong Trump supporter—expressed unwavering confidence in Donald Trump’s capacity to “open a road” to Cuban freedom. He recounted how previous administrations either ignored Cuba or failed to secure its liberation, concluding that Trump might be the sole figure willing to intervene decisively. His optimism is rooted in personal experience: after surviving Castro’s rise, he believes only a strong external push can reverse the island’s decline.
Father’s Viewpoint
My father, by contrast, adopts a more cautious stance. Growing up in Florida and later relocating to North Carolina, he has become increasingly moderate, identifying as a former Reagan Republican. He argues that any U.S. effort to force democracy onto Cuba risks violating the self‑determination he believes Cubans deserve. While acknowledging the island’s infrastructural shortcomings, he insists that “the people should decide” rather than be subjected to foreign‑imposed regime change.
My Own Political Stance
Reflecting on these conversations, I find my own position aligning more closely with my father’s caution. I am convinced that U.S. intervention would likely exacerbate Cuban suffering, especially given the already punitive sanctions that cripple essential services. Instead, I advocate for supporting Cuban autonomy from afar—by lifting restrictions that disproportionately harm ordinary citizens and by encouraging grassroots movements that can organically foster change.
Historical Context of U.S. Involvement
The United States has a long, contentious history of involvement in Cuba, from the early 1900s occupation to the Bay of Pigs invasion and the decades‑long economic embargo. These interventions have compounded the island’s political and economic woes, fostering a narrative that many Cubans feel both victim and protector of American might. Recent moves by President Trump, such as expanding sanctions and alluding to “Cuba as next” in a Miami summit, echo previous patterns of covert pressure.
Recent Trump Administration Actions
Motivation for renewed attention can be traced to the arrest of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro in January 2026, which disrupted Cuban oil supplies. Trump’s public statements—first a subtle hint at a summit, later a “Cuban Independence Day” proclamation—signal a more aggressive posture. Moreover, the U.S. Justice Department’s indictment of former Cuban President Raúl Castro on murder charges reflects a heightened diplomatic alarm that some interpret as a prelude to military action.
Implications of Intervention
Should military intervention materialize, it carries the risk of deepening instability. The Cuban populace, already grappling with shortages and blackouts, would face heightened uncertainty. Moreover, external coercion could galvanize anti‑American sentiment, reinforcing the regime’s narrative of a besieged nation and potentially consolidating authoritarian control under the guise of national defense.
Longing for Heritage
On a daily basis, the burning farm image on my wall summons a visceral yearning to stand on the soil where my grandfather once tended crops. That visual anchor connects me to a lineage marked by exile, resilience, and hope—a hope that one day I might step onto Matanzas’ red‑earth with my own family, experiencing the landscape that has shaped countless generations of Pequeños.
Desire for Cuban Autonomy
My ultimate aspiration is straightforward: a Cuba that enjoys freedom to determine its political destiny without the shadow of foreign powers. I want my grandfather to witness a liberated homeland before his final days, and I wish for my father to see the island he has long missed, not as a battlefield for geopolitics but as a place where everyday life—electricity, clean water, and security—are measured by the rhythm of its people rather than the agenda of external actors.
Conclusion and Reflection
The varied perspectives within my own family illustrate the broader, polarized discourse surrounding Cuba’s future. While my grandfather clings to the belief that Trump could be the catalyst for liberation, my father and I recognize that imposed solutions threaten genuine self‑determination. As I continue to navigate this familial crossroads, I remain steadfast in my conviction that the most respectful assistance the United States can offer is one that respects Cuban agency—supporting economic relief and humanitarian aid while refraining from military entanglements that could deepen the island’s hardships. The wood‑burning picture, then, remains more than decor; it is a compass pointing toward a future in which my Cuban roots can finally be lived, not merely remembered.