Ever since the dawn of my activist days, now over 55 years ago (!) I always idealized Cuba. In those days I had no glimmer of awareness of trauma, neglect, or any of what I had experienced or of what now occupies and preoccupies me night and day. I loved the image of Che Guevara, Argentine internationalist, and young physician, leaving his country and privilege to lead the freedom fighting poor in overthrowing their totalitarian, greed driven dictatorship. With a rudimentary army of under-equipped young guerillas running through the rough mountains, they were idealistic and passionate like himself. Against all odds, they prevailed. It was a dramatic David and Goliath story. Che died in a blaze of glory, and the whole story became something of a vision or life plan for me. The revolutionary posters and graffiti proclaimed “Seremos como Che!” We will be like Che. I wanted not only to be like Che, but to be Che, including the part about going down fighting and in dramatic light. Only much later would I realize that this vision was my imagined path to solving major neglect dilemmas: gaining a way to exist and be visible, and also a way to die and escape all the amorphous, largely conscious torture I carried inside and did not understand. I had posters of Che and other revolutionary leaders on my wall, got involved in the ways that I could, and listened to my favorite music night and day, much of which was la Nueva Trova Cubana, the “new Cuban song,” which I still love. I still have the ragged shelf of vinyl, long after not having a phonograph to play the old LP records anymore. Of course, I replaced them all with CD’s and then MP3’s.
I guess somehow, I didn’t quite get it, the Cubans said “seremos como Che,” not “seremos Che.” Someday, now that I am free to do so, I will tell my whole tale about this. Those were dark and lonely days for me, and my life zigged and zagged for many years. I never lost my love for Cuba.
Abandonment
In 1959, the revolutionaries prevailed, the dictatorship was ousted and the people had won. The landed and wealth holding class, fled the country as quickly as they could, with whatever valuables they could get away with. Fidel Castro set about to redesign and restore the beautiful tropical island nation, organizing the new government designed specifically to provide equally for all the people. It was a massive sea of change there, and of course there was a world reaction. It was the time of the Cold War and massive anti-communist fervor. The U.S made haste to put in place a massive blockade, a complete embargo of any trade or export to Cuba, and soon the rest of the world followed suit, except the then Soviet Union that was Cuba’s only ally…for a while. Cuba was like an abandoned child, with nearly all survival needs withdrawn or lost. In 1990 the Soviet Union gradually dissolved and by 1991 collapsed. Having been Cuba’s only ally and source of support, by 1992 that support was completely withdrawn. Cuba was like the orphaned child, left at first with the nanny or grandparent, and then completely alone.
Like many an abandoned child, the Cuban people being resourceful, found ways to maximize what they had. The forests that had been pillaged by violent colonial sugar cane plantation perpetrators, were gradually re-planted with lush trees. And the birds returned. Like the child restored to touch and light, they extended up.
Thinking on their feet and taking action, they made good with what they had and taught themselves many kinds of new skills and capacities. Proud of what they could do on their own, they found a way, with effort, to thrive. Much like our neglect survivor clients, and many of us. And their indomitable spirit is unquestionable in the trova, which remained both powerful and spirited. The self-reliance persisted over many decades. And what we struggle to learn now about sustainability and renewables, they learned out of necessity. They have much to teach us, as evidenced most especially in their agriculture. Any remaining food was fed to animals or went directly to compost, which then went to the growing crops, and back to the table in seamless loops. And nothing was wasted. Despite many years of having only themselves to rely on, they were able to grow and develop. Again, despite the deprivation, like many the abandoned child of neglect and like many of us. Although in the early 1991 and ’92 when this was happening, I had not begun my study of neglect trauma, for some reason unknown to me then, I felt a strong and kindred affinity for these people.
In 2015 then-US president Obama, loosened the restrictions of trade and travel into Cuba. He made his historic visit there, the first US president to do so in over 50 years. As it happened, that coincided with a visit from the Rolling Stones. It was a time of great jubilation for the Cubans, and certainly for me! My long-time vision and hope to make my own visit, became more a more realistic possibility. In 2016 it did come to pass: we made our first of four bike trips in Cuba: the dream come true. From the moment we stepped off the plane, all the books and songs came to life.
Ferocity
What was so immediately apparent, was there seemed to be almost no waste baskets around. They basically threw nothing away, beyond recycling, they repurposed and re-used almost everything. The cars on the road were probably about the same age as me, which was over 60 at that time, but they did not look like “old” cars. They were cared for and polished and beautiful. As there were not gas stations and repair shops everywhere, people helped one another. If someone broke down on the road, the next car would stop, even buses stopped. And there were horse drawn carts as well, and people with cargo on large tricycles. Like many a child of neglect, self-reliance meant being resourceful and often generous.
People were amazingly generous and kind with us. I remember commenting about this to one delightful woman, that I was amazed how open-hearted they could be with us, after we had treated them so badly for so many years. She was quick to respond, “It was not you; it was your government.” As we rode our bicycles down dusty roads, it was not unusual to dodge the proverbial chicken crossing the road. And for the first time ever, anywhere, I saw dogs languishing quietly, who did not chase bikes, but rather calmy watched us go by. Yes, the Cubans were ferociously and tenaciously self-reliant and resourceful, and with heart. The more I reflect on my ever-deeper foray into the study of neglect trauma, I understand better and better my long-standing affinity and identification with these people.
Needless to say, the regime change in the US has radically altered US-Cuba relations. From 2017, things began increasingly to resemble the post revolution isolation of Cuba, and before long, again Cuba had really only one reliable international political and economic ally: Venezuela. Until 2026 when the Venezuelan president was taken down. It is “deja vu all over again.” And Cuba has been without any source of fuel. The whole country has been left literally in the dark, for days at a time. And like the child of neglect, however resilient and tenaciously resourceful, retraumatized they are afraid to trust- even old friends of mine who have provided financial counsel to the Cuban government in the past. Like many of us, hurt and traumatized more than once. I am heartbroken.
My most recent deep foray is in understanding the insidious feedback loop. The dysregulations originating with developmental attachment trauma can be the seeds of violence. Studying the histories of violent of destructive leaders has become a pre-occupation of mine lately. How early neglect and trauma evolves into the larger scale violence which then creates more trauma and dysregulation and more neglected children and on and on and on. Increasingly I am compelled: we have to stop this. It is ever clearer to me that our work with trauma and neglect must attend to prevention. How far upstream can we go, to make it stop? That is what I am pondering. I know the Cubans will be alright, like many of us, but nonetheless I feel deeply compelled with that same ferocity, with whatever time I have left to see and pursue our work through this lens.
