Nuevayorkinos, 1114 Bedford Avenue, New York, NY (2026)

03/13/2026

“🇩🇴 Pictured (left to right) are my parents Marino and Blanca, my aunt Odalisa (my dad’s little sister) and her husband Manuel, and my dad’s stepmother Consuelo. They all came from DR in the 70’s and 80’s. This photo was taken during a birthday or holiday party in my parents’ apartment on 178th street in Manhattan. My mom is fuzzy on the details but she recalls that ‘amanecímos bailando’. This photo encapsulates joy, love, family, and a yearning to keep tradition alive. Consuelo got my mom her first job in this country so they all worked together for a while. After working long factory shifts it was still common to gather around food, drinks, music and family on the weekends and dance the night away in tiny apartments.” - Kim

Kim’s family. Washington Heights, Manhattan, c. 1983-1985.

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03/10/2026

🗣️ Calling on community to help Jan Luis find his birth mother:

🇩🇴 This is a photo of Maria Collado and her son, Jan Luis Collado. Born in Queens in 1993, María was around 17 or 18 years old when she gave him up for adoption. Today, Maria would be around 50 years old.

Jan Luis doesn’t have any more information about his birth mother. If you know her, or can help the family out in any way, please respond here in the comments, or reach out to .

Maria and Jan Luis. Queens, 1990s.

02/25/2026

“🇵🇷 This was my mom’s second look for her wedding day 🤍✨ Classic. Feminine. Timeless. Elegance was simply who she was. 👑✨This photo of my parents, Ed and Lourdes, was taken in December 1993. Two proud Puerto Ricans from Sunset Park, Brooklyn. My mother, Lourdes, has since passed on, and my father, Ed, is still here with us. This is one of the beautiful memories I have of them together. Time changes many things, but moments like this remain priceless. Forever grateful. Forever remembering. 🤍” - Jacqueline

Lourdes on her wedding day, Bushwick, Brooklyn, 9/24/1988, and with her husband Ed, December 1993.

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02/21/2026

Celebrating the life and legacy of people like Willie Colón is laden with complexity.

The celebration of his music. Of songs that have changed our lives. Songs woven into the DNA of so many generations. Lyrics that are as relevant today as they were when released in the ‘60s, ‘70s, ‘80s, ‘90s. Fixtures of our parties and record collections.

People like Willie Colón, who can embody so much, whose catalogs were (and have remained) synonymous with la gente, working class, im/migrant struggles. Rhythms that honored Africa and Orisha. Refrains that spoke to the AIDS crisis and out against homophobia in the community.

And, later in life, become right wing. A look at his instagram, and the staunch, pro-Trump conservatism rings louder than anything else. Standing in contrast against the values he put forth musically for many years. Outwardly supporting rhetoric and policies that are violent, dangerous, antiblack, and xenophobic.

His music will always reverberate throughout our collective consciousness. His voice and trombone will continue to be a soundtrack for generations to come. May he be a reminder of all of our good times, and an invitation to combat the plantaciones adentro where colonialism still exists.

02/20/2026

1/2: “🇩🇴 An original story that begins in the countryside and cities of the Dominican Republic and unfolds
in the heart of New York City.

My parents migrated from the Dominican Republic to Brooklyn, working long hours in factories while welcoming their twin daughters, Emely and Katherine.

When we were two years old, we moved to the Bronx, where our story truly bloomed. While some families worked in factories to rebuild a home back in San Cristobal, Dominican Republic, many aunts and uncles continued their studies while building their lives in New York.

New York in the 80s and 90s was a different world, affordable, bustling, and full of opportunity. From Brooklyn to the Bronx , shops filled with leather coats, dresses, berets, shoes, and every color of denim. Factories were everywhere, and immigrant families like ours always found work.

Like many Dominican families, ours built a life through both labor and entrepreneurship. There were bodegas, supermarkets, art framing businesses, and continued education. My great grandparents harvested to***co, honey, and rice in San Christobal, traveling to the city for to obtain products they couldn’t find in the country side, such as salt and sugar. My other grandparents became bodega owners in Santiago, and their father before them in Mao Verde.

That spirit of work and reinvention traveled with us.” - Katherine

Katherine and Emely, and their parents. NYC, 1980s-1990s.

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02/15/2026

“🇩🇴 Back then, people just took the picture. No one cared if you were looking at the camera, half out of frame, mid-sip, or having a full wardrobe malfunction and identity crisis. They pressed the button anyway because it wasn’t about perfection. It was about the memory.“ - Stefany

Stefany’s family. Washington Heights, Manhattan, 1991.

Submitted by .stefany_
—
“🇩🇴 En aquel entonces, la gente tomaba fotos. A nadie le importaba si estabas mirando la cámara, medio fuera de marco, medio sorbo, o teniendo un mal funcionamiento de ropa y una crisis de identidad. Aun así pulsaron el botón porque no se trataba de la perfección. Era sobre el recuerdo.” - Stefany

La familia de Stefany. Washington Heights, Manhattan, 1991.
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“🇩🇴 Naquela época, as pessoas tiravam fotos. Ninguém se importava se você estava olhando para a câmera, meio fora do enquadramento, meio tomando um gole de bebida, ou tendo um problema com o figurino e uma crise de identidade. Elas ainda apertavam o botão porque não se tratava de perfeição. Tratava-se da memória.” - Stefany

Família de Stefany. Washington Heights, Manhattan, 1991.

02/14/2026

7 years ago today, I started NuevaYorkinos.

A love letter to our beautiful city.

To the Caribbean, Latine, and Latin American diasporas that make Nueva Yol what it is. To the barrios and street corners. To the crossing guards and señoras that call you Mi Vida at the Dominican spot. To the hair dressers and barbers. To the bus drivers and those still keeping the livery cab services alive. To the librarians at the NYPL an teachers who care for their students like they were their own.

To all who’ve come to New York and have built, deconstruct, and reconstruct ideas of family. For the families: biological, chosen, made, blended, and all that exist in the in-between.

To be engaged in memory work is a blessing, and a privilege I hold dear. Finding ourselves in the midst of xenophobic violence at the federal level, the commitment to preserving our memory is that much more crucial.

This story is one that always stands out, representing the mission, the love, the ethos behind this work.

Thank you all for your love, support, and participation these past seven years!

“🇵🇷 Although Gay Marriage laws were passed not too long ago, it’s insane to imagine at one point love was illegal. That didn’t stop my family from celebrating! My great uncle Valentine (left) was a Vietnam Veteran and married his lover in my grandmother’s living room. My own mother was a child, her little sister confused at the two men on the cake. The house was packed in fabulous style with drag queens and the open minded community of love.” - Natalie

Valentine’s wedding. Anthony Avenue, The Bronx. Early 1980s.

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01/27/2026

🔗 Sharing tips for parents: on how to show up in the movement (via ) and on how to have difficult conversations with your kids at various ages ()

What are some other ways you’re activating community right now? How have you and your kids spoken about the current state?

Image: by Joseph Rodriguez (), from his book Spanish Harlem: El Barrio in the 80s.

01/23/2026

In preparation for the upcoming Code Blue NYC, via . Know your rights, share resources, and if there are any more organizations offering their support, please comment below.

01/15/2026

🔗 Share resources. Sara vigilant. Be in comm(unity).

Rapid Response to Raids and Deportation Defense via .

Available for download at maketheroadny.org/we-protect-us/

01/15/2026

🔗 Stand together. Share resources. Know Your Rights.

Via x . For more, go to: www.nyc.gov/knowyourrights

Image from “Spanish Harlem: El Barrio in the 80s” by

01/15/2026

“🇩🇴 Here my dad stands at home in the South Bronx, 1968, wearing a Yankees uniform. It reminds me how baseball came to symbolize the American Dream: the promise that if you work hard and keep the faith, you can rise. For my grandmother, that dream meant leaving her distinguished law career in the Dominican Republic to sew in a NYC factory by day and study at CUNY City college by night, so her son could simply be a child, free to imagine himself in pinstripes, pitching dreams of his own.

The dream, like baseball, promises fairness but runs on inequality. The Yankees, like the city itself, have become big business, with towers rising where stickball once echoed in neighborhoods now rebuilt for investors instead of working families. The same system that turned the national pastime into spectacle now prices out the people who built the bleachers, yet I still want to believe it can be different. My American Dream is simpler: that the laborers who raise these buildings can afford to live in them, and the migrants who thread their stories through New York’s fabric are not written out of it. ⚾️🗽.” - Chelsea

Chelsea’s dad. South Bronx, 1968.

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