The recent update to AncestryDNA results now lists a percentage for the indigenous people of Puerto Rico, historically also known as the Taino. This is truly incredible news. I, as well as many of my fellow Puerto Ricans, have always known from an intellectual and spiritual sense that we collectively come from and continue to represent the Taino Indian. It truly feels amazing to finally see it clearly stated in official DNA results.
Puerto Ricans grow up hearing about the Taino people and know that Boricuas, an indigenous derived word we warmly refer to ourselves as, are made up of Spanish, African, and Taino blood. With the enormous advances in DNA analysis, we can now estimate the percentages of each group that comprises who we collectively are. My genetic makeup includes 15% DNA from the initial inhabitants of the island of Boriken (Puerto Rico.) Research has finally proven that the Taino, believed by some in the scientific community to have been extinct, lives on in the Puerto Rican.
If you are Puerto Rican and have submitted your DNA to Ancestry.com, check out your most recent update and feel free to share your results and thoughts in the comments section. Of course, the new data is not the end-all or be-all of being Puerto Rican, but it’s helpful information that can lead to an insightful conversation with family and friends.
Ancestry.com states it updates its results from time to time to include more accurate information as it gathers additional DNA data sets from across the globe. The new results could be upsetting if, like in my case, one year you are more Portuguese than Spanish and the next year you’re back to being more Spanish than Portuguese.
In any event, I believe it’s important to know your ancestry because the knowledge provides an international perspective on your family history and demonstrates that we are more connected to each other than we are apart.
My blog post from earlier in 2018 revealing my Puerto Rican DNA results, is now outdated thanks to new data from AncestryDNA. My DNA is the same, however, the interpretation has changed.
The juggernaut genealogy company updated its algorithms a few months ago, providing more data on ethnic regions by breaking down larger ones to identify specific areas. This new information differs slightly from earlier in 2018, providing me with a new ethnic perspective for 2019.
My first results showed that 26 percent of my DNA came from the Iberian Peninsula, of which I thought mostly comes from Spain. I knew that some of my DNA could be traced to Spain’s neighbor, Portugal, but I never really thought much about that fact until I was informed of my most recent results.
AncestryDNA can now decipher between Spanish and Portuguese DNA and the incredible find is that I am 29 percent Portuguese and only 16 percent Spanish! This is amazing news to me, but initially, I had a tough time digesting the new information. My entire life I knew I was partly Spanish, but now I am embracing the reality that I’m more Portuguese than I am Spanish. There is a great deal to learn about Portugal, but I have begun the journey of knowing as much as possible.
My new DNA results also changed in regards to my African ancestry. I was first told that my African DNA came mostly from Nigeria and I was pretty excited about that all year. With the new data, my DNA is less Nigerian and actually more from Cameroon, Congo, Benin, and Togo. So much more to learn about these regions of my ancestry as well.
Another discrepancy from last year’s results is that I am less English and no longer Italian. The difference in findings moved to the current Portuguese DNA percentage.
My new ethnic breakdown now looks as follows:
21% Native American (Taino)
18% African (Cameroon, Congo, Benin & Togo)
7% English/Welsh/NW European
2% European Jewish
1% Middle Eastern
In summary, I am 60% European, 21% Native American, 18% African, and 1% Middle Eastern. AncestryDNA did warn that as the technology and science improves, there may very well be a chance that this particular view of my DNA may change again in the future. I am OK with that but do hope any future update will not variate too much from what it is today. We shall see?
Unity March for Puerto Rico in Washington, DC. Sunday, November 19, 2017. (photo by Phil Velez.)
Less than two weeks before this year’s National Puerto Rican Day Parade celebration, a new Harvard University study estimates 4,645 Puerto Ricans died from the devastation caused by Hurricane Maria. As Boricuas prepare to celebrate our culture and mourn the lives lost, it may also be time to seriously reevaluate Puerto Rico’s political status.
As a Puerto Rican born in Brooklyn and raised in the Bronx, also known as a Nuyorican, I’ve known that for 120 years my people have continuously debated between being an independent sovereign nation, a commonwealth/territory of the United States, or the 51st State of the United States of America. Commonwealth has always won out. Puerto Rico has been a U.S. territory since 1898 after the U.S. defeated Spain in the Spanish-American War. It’s classified as an “unincorporated territory,” meaning the island is controlled by the U.S. Puerto Rico has been operating as a U.S. Commonwealth since 1952 when the territory formalized its constitution.
The more than 4,600 Puerto Rican deaths from Hurricane Maria clearly illustrates to me that commonwealth failed Puerto Rico. The United States government pretty much abandoned Puerto Rico at its most dire time. If Puerto Rico had been a State when Hurricane Maria hit, there most likely would have been more U.S. resources allocated for the archipelago’s recovery, thus leading to fewer hurricane-related fatalities.
I dare to speculate that if the citizens of Puerto Rico had decided long ago to be an independent nation, they may have been greater prepared to deal with the aftermath of Hurricane Maria. The proposed Republic of Puerto Rico would have been able to reach out to the international community for assistance as opposed to relying only on the U.S. for help.
The fight for independence has a long history in Puerto Rico, becoming fiercely intense. In 1950 Puerto Rican nationalists tried to assassinate U.S. President Harry Truman and in 1954 nationalists shot-up the U.S. Capitol.
The struggle for independence has never been popular with the majority of Puerto Ricans with historically only about five percent of the citizenry voting in favor. In last year’s plebiscite, 97 percent of Puerto Ricans voted for Statehood, however, only 23 percent of the population voted. Independence and Commonwealth supporters boycotted the status referendum suggesting the vote was rigged in favor of Statehood.
As a Puerto Rican born in the States, I have no say in the matter. At first, I thought the status-quo political stance of Puerto Rico was fine by me. It seemed like the best of both worlds. Later I thought my people should make a decision already. If I had a vote, I would vote to cross off Commonwealth and let the people of Puerto Rico finally achieve self-determination. Do you want La Isla del Encanto to be a U.S. State or an independent country?
Becoming a State makes the most sense since it already acts as a State and the position is strongly supported politically. Puerto Rico would be like the Hawaii of the East Coast. We Puerto Ricans can finally live happily ever as officially part of the U.S. with all the benefits that come along with that, like having full representation in Congress and the ability to vote for the U.S. President. Most recently, I had personally wholeheartedly supported this idea.
Then I conducted research on the history of the independence of Puerto Rico and came across Eugenio Maria de Hostos, a Puerto Rican educator, author, and revolutionary. Hostos furiously fought for the independence of Puerto Rico but the U.S. was interested in keeping the potential Caribbean nation a colony. Hostos was upset with this power and the fact that his people did not collectively fight for independence, that he left Puerto Rico and lived his last years in the Dominican Republic where he is buried. Hostos’ final wish was to have his remains stay permanently in the Dominican Republic until the day Puerto Rico is completely independent.
If the government of Puerto Rico negotiates independence with the U.S., it could stipulate that for 10 years the U.S. must financially and structurally help Puerto Rico get on its feet to operate as its own country. It’s a fantastic possibility, but I try to be a true optimist. Maybe the spirits of Puerto Rican freedom fighters are still calling the Boriken subconsciousness.
In any event, I think it’s time to take the Commonwealth option off the table. Puerto Ricans must accept the fact that sitting on the political fence has not worked for our people. It will take some time for Puerto Rico to get on its feet and it may take years to feel some sense of normalcy. During this time of healing, Puerto Ricans need to do some real soul searching to finally decide its political fate. We owe it to the 4,645 Puerto Ricans who lost their lives due to Hurricane Maria. More importantly, we owe it to ourselves.
As a Puerto Rican, I have known for decades that my ethnic makeup consisted of a mix of Spanish, Taino, and African ancestry. However, I did not know the actual makeup of my Puerto Rican blood until now. In December I sent away for my DNA results from Ancestry.com. The company noted results would be ready in six to eight weeks but mine was completed in four weeks. I, of course, am still Puerto Rican, but now that means more to me than just being Spanish, Taino, and African.
I primarily wanted to find out the exact percentage of my Native American and African heritage and more specifically I wanted to know where in Africa my ancestors came from. While I waited for my results, I conducted research online and was surprised to find out that most Puerto Ricans who tested their DNA had traces of Italian and Greek ancestry. I also saw many Puerto Ricans had some heritage from Great Britain. Prior to this research and my DNA results, I never really thought of being anything other than Puerto Rican.
Here is a summary of my Puerto Rican DNA results:
26% Iberian Peninsula (Spanish)
20% Native American (Taino)
18% African (16% Nigeria, 1% Africa North, 1% Ivory Coast/Ghana)
13% Great Britain
8% European Jewish
2% Finland/Northwest Russia
<1% Middle Eastern
I was informed that my great-grandmother on my mother’s side was from Spain, so I thought I would be more than 26% Spanish but happy to finally know the exact percentage. I am very excited to learn that I am 20% Native American and 18% African, which includes 16% Nigerian, 1% North African (Morocco, Western Sahara, Algeria, Libya) and 1% from the Ivory Coast/Ghana.
What I found most amazing is that I am 8% European Jewish (Poland, Belarus, Ukraine, Russia, Hungary, Israel) and 2% from Finland/Northwest Russia. I also now gladly embrace being 13% from Great Britain (England, Scotland, Wales), 10% from Italy/Greece (Europe South), 2% from Ireland, and less than one percent from the Middle East.
My mom and I in Boqueron, Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico, 2017.
This morning I finally spoke with my mom, Lydia, in the Boqueron section of Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico. The last time I heard my mom’s voice was before Hurricane Maria ravaged Puerto Rico. Almost two weeks after the hurricane, food and water has not yet reached Cabo Rojo and most likely other towns in the south west part of the island.
My mom says the supermarkets near her are empty, water pressure is almost non-existent, there is still no electricity, it’s hot, she’s getting headaches, and she and her husband Hector have about three more days of can food left.
“We’re suffering,” my mom told me. “I want to leave Puerto Rico now.”
My mom’s flight to New York is scheduled for October 12. My family will send some packages to my mom and Hector, but I hope they get the items. In such a desparate state, the odds of the packages getting to them may be 50/50, but we have to try.
Fortunately, Hector’s cell phone started to get reception today, but the phone can’t be recharged. Things are getting dire for my mom and Hector in Cabo Rojo, PR. The most frustrating thing for me is the sense of feeling helpless. I need to find a way to help my mom.
The world needs to know there are people in Puerto Rico reaching the end of their rope. These people, my people, American citizens, need our help. Food and water needs to reach remote areas of Puerto Rico now.
Though I cannot do much physically to help my mom, I can respond to my mom’s scream for help by magnifying it as loudly as possible.
(UPDATE: On Thursday, Oct. 5, I received word that my mom and Hector are OK with food and things are getting a bit better overall. There are still others struggling and I hope things get better all around very soon.)