This black-and-white image, from an old leather-bound album, shows my grandma (Nini)with her family in Cuba. It's one of twenty-five photos her parents took before the 1959 Cuban Revolution. This album is Nini's only object from her Cuban past.

After the revolution, Castro's government seized Nini’s home because my great-grandfather protested against the government's control and threats to property rights and individual self-determination. Their house and belongings were confiscated, and they were forced to leave. This album represents her lost memories and heritage.

In 2017, my family and I visited Cuba and stayed in the house where my grandma was in that photo; there, we saw the drastic difference in life that Nini left compared to where she resettled in Florida. Now, annually, my grandma makes each family member a huge photo album of every memory we send her a picture of from that year. The importance of having tangible evidence of one’s family history is something my grandma taught me early. Tangible evidence connects past and present cultures in the United States. America’s diverse and multifaceted identity is a living testament to the success of society in transforming traditions after new migration and changes in nationality. This album represents the living history of my family’s culture in Cuba. Much like the current American urban landscape, my family's identity reflects how migration generates opportunities and provides a space for security and a sense of belonging. 

– Ana Lago

Relationship:  Grandchild of im/migrant Grandchild of im/migrant