Uncommon Sense

Uncommon Sense turns 4 years old

I started Uncommon Sense on Nov. 29, 2005, and soon afterward its almost singular focus became Cuban political prisoners and others struggling for freedom on the island.

Obviously, work remains to be done, so I'll keep trying to do my part for the cause.

As always, thank you for reading.

A new look, the same Uncommon Sense

I've begun tweaking the look and some of the content on this blog. Just trying to freshen things up, and Typepad makes that somewhat easy. No dramatic changes, I just want to make the site easier to navigate and make the content, including the links, as relevant as possible. Some links will disappear, others will be added.

Let me take this opportunity to thank all my readers for their kind words, their chiding — gentle and otherwise — and most importantly, the time they take to check out what I have to say during the past 22 months or so. Your support — and that's what every visitor gives me when they stop by, even if they don't realize it — is invaluable to me.

You keep me going, none moreso than the friends and inspirations I have discovered in the Cuban blogosphere. You helped me re-discover my Cubanidad, and shown me what is possible with courage, honesty and love. And that we all have a role to play in the struggle for freedom.

One day — soon or far, I don't know, except that it will come — we will celebrate what we have accomplished, in a free Cuba.

This is meaningless, but still interesting

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

death (4x) dangerous (3x) fuck (1x)

You will get no apologies from me. Reporting about oppression and repression is never pretty, and frankly I'm surprised I didn't rate an "R."

Still, consider yourselves, and your children, warned.

(H/T to Marta)

Uncommon Sense, on the radio

Tomas Estrada has invited me to appear tonight on his Internet talk radio show to discuss Cuban political prisoners. The show starts at 9 p.m. EST. Listen in by going here.

I hope you listen, but I cannot promise it will be anywhere near as interesting than Alex's interview Friday with Elsa Morejón, the wife of Cuban political prisoner Oscar Biscet.

Dreaming in Cuban

Forty-eight years tonight, Cuba's nightmare began.

And so did the story of my family in America.

The things that have defined the latter — namely, education, good careers and most importantly, freedom — drive me to do whatever I can to help break the grip of the former, whether it is working on Uncommon Sense or some other chapter in my life still to come.

An horrific dictatorship, whose latest crimes against humanity I try to document here, came to power 48 years ago tonight. And, in part, because of a compliant world purposefully blind to that horror, the dictator and his cronies continue to terrorize their own people. No one in the world, even in America, can consider themselves entirely free, as long as Cubans are enslaved. To remain silent, only magnifies that crime.

For my part, I pledge in 2007 to continue Uncommon Sense, both exposing the truth about the dictatorship and telling the stories of the brave Cuban men and women — the political prisoners, the independent journalists and librarians, the human rights activists, etc. — who stand up to the regime, in the name of freedom for their fellow citizens, and for the whole world.

I think that is what my grandfather, Raimundo Masferrer, and his brothers, Rolando and Kiki, would want me to do. I cannot help but think that these three brave men — who fled Havana for Key West 48 years ago tonight on Rolando's boat — would be proud of my efforts. They, especially Rolando, aka "El Tigre," were men of action, moreso than I have ever been, not afraid to take up a gun to defend themselves and their nation. But one of Rolando's many careers — in addition to lawyer and politician — was as a journalist. He knew the power of the written word to change the world, which I, too, have tried to do as a journalist, for newspapers and on this blog.

My grandfather was the first of my immediate family to reach American shores after Fidel Castro's defeat of the previous Cuban dictatorship. My father, then 15 years old, could have been on that boat, with his father and uncles, but he had to stay in Cuba, to take care of his mother and younger sister. The family would reunite later in America, to begin their American dream.

But they, and their children and grandchildren — each of us American and Cuban, to our cores — have not forgotten the nightmare that is life in Cuba today. Most of us may not fixate about it as much as I do on this blog, but always in the back of our minds is the realization of the sacrifices our parents and grandparents made — They were forced to flee their homes! — so we can have the freedom we enjoy today.

At least this first-generation American of Cuban descent, understands that I will not be truly free until the same liberties I enjoy in my family's adopted home, are shared by my brothers and sisters on the island.

I have faith that one day, perhaps in 2007, that dream will come true.

Uncommon Sense turns 1

One year ago today, without much of a vision and much less of a plan of what it would be, I launched Uncommon Sense. I just wanted an outlet for my writing, since my job at the newspaper leans heavily towards editing. It has been that, and much more.

What I would write about, I really didn't know, but it didn't take long for me to reconnect with my indentiy as a Cuban — well, at least as the son of former refugees — and to dedicate the bulk of my work here to the situation in Cuba. As time has passed, I have further narrowed my primary focus, to the work and struggle of Cuban dissidents, especially the independent journalists on the island.

They are my colleagues and my brothers.

Telling their stories has become a passion for me.

How do I measure the success of this blog?

One way is the more than 45,000 visits and more than 80,000 page views I have received since I started. Those numbers won't get me a buyout offer from Google, but each one of those numbers represents a reader who whether by accident or on purpose, found their way here from some Uncommon Sense. Maybe it's because of my newspaper background — we need all the readers we can get — but each visitor is precious to me.

Thank you to everyone who helped bring Uncommon Sense to life, and whose friendship and support sustains it.

What does the future hold for Uncommon Sense?

Like on the day, I started, I don't have a clue, and I couldn't be more excited.

Fan mail from Down Under

Well, it's not exactly from a "fan."

And the message is not just for me.

I'll let the writer, a certain Bill Joice from Australia — who objected to my post yesterday about Hugo Chavez — have the floor.

Unfortunately the only "compost heap" that I have encountered recently is not that of Hugo Chavez, but yours. Stop hanging out in Cuban bars in Miami and either go to a decent school or do some reading; either that or stop writing ridiculous articles for your likeminded friends to read.

Obviously, my "likeminded friends" — you know who you are — we do not have time to hang out in Cuban bars in Miami. Our work is not done.

Column: Another Cuban in Florida (9/21/06)

By MARC R. MASFERRER

Many times in the past 14 months, often as I walk on the sands of Anna Maria Island, I stop, pinch myself and say:

“I can’t believe I am living and working in Florida.”

It’s a strange sensation, being in a place where you always seem to be comparing the fantasy of where you are with the reality. There are similarities — such as at sunset on Anna Maria Island — but there also are stark differences.

It’s almost like the experience is happening to someone else.

Maybe it’s because I never thought I would be here.

As I progressed through my newspaper career, rarely did it cross my mind that I would want to make a stop, much less settle down, in the Sunshine State. For a lot of reasons — for instance, hurricanes, the crazy politics, and the out-of-control growth — Florida just did not hold a lot of appeal for me.

Especially since I already was working in Texas, the greatest state in the union, where the stories are bigger, and where they never run out.

Of course, circumstances changed, so as I looked for a new job, almost all options were open.

More than a year later, I’m still settling in — Florida still doesn’t quite feel like home — but things are good. I live 15 minutes from Anna Maria Island, and professionally, I landed in a great spot. My colleagues are smart journalists, my talents are appreciated and almost daily, I think, I’m making a difference. When you’ve been away from a newsroom like that, it is humbling to find your way back.

As for those things that previously turned me off about Florida — for instance, hurricanes, the crazy politics and the out-of-control growth — they also make it a great place to work for a newspaper.

Overall, it has been a good move.

|—————|

Still, why am I here?

There’s more to the answer than to cover the big story of the day and walk on the beaches. There has to be, for me, at the age of almost 40, to have made a move I never imagined to a place where I didn’t know a soul.

Even the casual reader of this blog knows why.

|—————|

I had visited Florida several times before. But in what might be considered a sociological rarity in the Cuban American experience, my immediate family spent only a limited amount of time here — and all before I was born — before making their way to Texas.

As I prepared last year for the cross-country move, I joked that every Cuban American has to spend at least part of their life in Florida.

However, the experience of being a Cuban American in Florida — albeit more than three hours from Miami and “Little Havana” — has been much more serious than that. It has changed my life.

About four months after I moved here, I started this blog, as a repository of sorts for my views, opinions, etc. on issues of the day. I do hardly any writing in my job as an editor at the newspaper, so I thought I also would use it to keep my skills sharpened.

Cuba was barely on my radar.

But guided perhaps by an invisible hand, I quickly found myself drawn to Cuba-related issues as I delved deeper into the Internet in search of ideas and topics to address. I discovered Babalu, Cuban American Pundits, Wall Street Cafe and other blogs, and started to imagine the possibilities.

As I learned more about the current situation on the island, especially the plight of Cuban independent journalists and other dissidents, I found myself reconnecting with what Val Prieto of Babalu terms my Cubanidad — my “Cubaness.”

Every year, my family celebrates “la noche buena” on Christmas Eve, and I love Cuban food, and the music. But what I have discovered within myself, as I researched and wrote about Cuba, was something much deeper and stronger. It’s as if what is happening to my companeros on the island, especially the journalists, is happening to me.

Their freedom has become my cause.

I am first and foremost an American, and proudly so, but I almost am Cuban, and just as proud.

Earlier this week, in a post and subsequent comments, Val described his Cubanidad, and the fact that his is the most popular Cuba blog on the Internet, as almost a burden. For Val, who I consider a friend, being a Cuban with a blog means having to answer the idiots out there who excuse the Castro regime’s bad behavior and to explain and defend why the focus of his blog is so narrow.

I share his pain. But rather than shirk from it, I, like Val, embrace it.

For me, spending hours almost every day working on this blog is not a burden but a responsibility I embrace proudly. As a journalist, as an American and as a Cuban, I have been guided by an invisible hand, from within and from above, to tell the stories of Cuba as best I can and to do my small part, I hope, to help free a nation.

It also has further defined who I am. I am a better journalist because of my Cubanidad and my ability to express it through my writings. And I am a better American, too. I have learned that the freedom I enjoy in this country will only be sweeter when it is shared by my fellow Cubans.

It may not be easy to be Cuban, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Whether all this would have ever happened for me in Texas or anywhere else I might have landed last year, I do not know.

But I do know it happened, if only because of geography, only when I got to Florida.

So for this Cuban American, for whom Florida used to be an idea to be avoided, that’s why I am here.

Labor Day break

Notwithstanding any big news breaking that might be worth a comment or two, I'm going to try to take a blogging break this holiday weekend. I have to work on Saturday, and I'm back to work on Tuesday — which is primary election day here in Florida. We don't have any big plans, but I think I just need to recharge my batteries a bit.

The blogging was fast and furious this month, starting with the news about Fidel Castro's bellyache, and all that has brought.

By far, August was the busiest month here at Uncommon Sense, since I started blogging last November.

According to my count, I received more than 6,000 visits, for a total of more than 12,000 page views. That's a fraction of what other sites get, but I still think it's pretty cool.

(The previous busiest month was April when I received about 3,000 visitors, and 7,000 page views.)

Also worth noting is that sometime in August, I received my 25,000th visitor, and passed the 50,000 mark in page views.

A huge thank you to each and every one of you. Even if you never comment or e-mail, you help make Uncommon Sense better.

And again, thank you for everyone who inspired me to start this and supports me to this day.

So what to do this weekend?

Maybe hop in the truck for a road trip with Pat Green in the CD player:

Life will make sure that you got your troubles

Life will make sure that you work too hard

There ain't nobody that don't get tired

Watching troubles pile up big in your own backyard

Sometimes you got to grab your world with your own two hands

Set it spinning off on a course all your own

Take yourself a big bag for your shoulder

Find yourself some good times and bring 'em on back home

— "Carry On," by Pat Green.

Coming now to Uncommon Sense

Publishing Uncommon Sense has been once of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

Frustrating, at times, yes.

All-consuming, at times, yes.

Tiring, at times, yes.

But also tremendously satisfying, as I explore this still rather new mode of communication, to express my viewpoints, and to learn more about the world around me.

And I have learned so much, primarily about my home of Cuba.

When I started Uncommon Sense, my intent was to write about various topics of interest. I'm not even sure Cuba was on that list.

But I soon realized that reading and researching and trying to capture with my words the tragedy that is Cuba was my new passion.

I love the art of journalism, and the opportunities that working in newspapers for more than 17 years have provided me.

However, Uncommon Sense is different, because it is mine, and mine alone. I share it with my readers, especially that small cadre that returns almost daily to read with what I have to say next, but if you want to know who I am — well, at least part of who I am — you have to read this blog.

In recent weeks, I have blogged almost exclusively about Cuba, as Cubans and the world try to figure what happens next on the island, under the dictatorship, temporary or otherwise, of Raúl Castro.

I still want to write about other topics, and I will when I'm so inspired, but starting immediately I am tightening the focus on all matters Cuban — with special attention to the various dissident movements on the island and the gulag's political prisoners, especially my fellow journalists.

Anyone with even a cursory familiarity with Uncommon Sense might ask, "So what will be different?"

Not much. I will try to find more Cuba-related links to my sidebar, and I might even tweak the design of the state.

This new statement of purpose, however, is more for me, to help me focus on the task at hand.

And that is an important task — educating the world about the enslavement of an entire nation and what is being done, and can be done to break those chains.

I will seek out other topics to address, but when it comes to Uncommon Sense, my first task, as it has been for quite some time now, will be to do what I can to inform my little slice of the world about my homeland.

I owe many people my gratitude for the success of Uncommon Sense.

The friends who prodded me to go online with my views and my writing. Their faith gave me a bold confidence, at a time I was running low. I just wish I had taken their advice sooner. I hope a visit here makes them smile.

My fellow Cuba bloggers, who inspire me with their passion, and stoked this daily newspaperman's competitive fires. Too many times, I have read Babalú or Cuban American Pundits, and said, "Damn, I wish I had that first!" Those new friendships are perhaps this experience's sweetest rewards.

The readers who honor me with their loyalty, especially those who return on a daily basis, if not several times a day.

And most of all, for to my wife and family, for their support and for understanding how driven I can be when I believe in something, as I do in Uncommon Sense.

In terms of content, little will change, but I will make an effort each week to produce a regular column, in addition to the shorter writings, links, I publish on a regular basis. Often, I suspect, the topic will be Cuba, but I also plan to address other subjects with these longer pieces, which will be akin to what you might find on a newspaper's opinion page.

The first column will be posted sometime after midnight tonight. Subsequent columns will appear on Fridays.