By Carol Colmenares

(Versión en español de este artículo)

Dr. Juanita M. Rodríguez Colon welcomes us into her home in Cayey, Puerto Rico. She alerts us that the rooster we hear belongs to the neighborhood because, contrary to popular belief, roosters don't just crow in the early morning but whenever they feel like it. She's legally known as Juana M., and although she's made peace with her name, there's still a pang because her mother wanted to name her Myrna, "but since it was my dad who registered me, he named me Juana."

This story begins in Salinas, a coastal town in the southern part of the island where the Aguirre Sugar Mill was the sole employment opportunity for everyone there for nearly a century, including Juanita's father, a sweeper. The neighborhood, though poor, had everything: a church, an elementary school, a high school, and a vibrant community where everyone knew each other as they worked at the same place and celebrated the same patron saint festivals every year. "I couldn't wait for June to come because they brought orchestras and artists, and we enjoyed it so much." With a slight smile, Juanita tells us how she loved it when her father's cousin arrived in a car and took her and her seven siblings for a ride around town, in a time when car safety was drowned out by children's laughter and shouts. Despite being so close, the sea was off-limits to her. As is well known, people who grow up by the sea admire its charms and respect its mysteries. "I never learned to swim because Mom didn't let us go alone, and I would have liked to learn. The most I could do was dip my feet in."

Juanita loved not only festivities but also reading. She gained this habit from her mother, who, despite only attending school until the third grade, was a "voracious reader"... "And I know I learned from her because after doing all her chores, she would sit at the dining table to read, and I'd sit to read too, and I'd feel bad because I finished books very quickly." At the end of the school year, her teacher would give her posters, and Juanita would take them home, making everyone there sit down to listen to the lesson. Perhaps that perseverance and discipline were what her teachers saw. "You have to keep going; you have to get out of this," her English teacher would say, even though she didn't know what "this" was. In high school, she had a principal who took her under his wing, "and when I was in 11th grade, they sent us students with outstanding grades to take the college entrance exam." That's how Juanita finished high school with 12 credits from the Catholic University of Ponce. "That also motivated me because I was the first person in my family to go to college.”

Juanita was surrounded by love and support as a child. Whatever little or much they had was shared. "But as I grew up, I worried that we weren't invited to birthdays. We went everywhere together, the same church, the same square. But when there was a party, specifically, we weren't invited. And I'd ask my mom, and she'd say, shut your mouth. That's none of your business."

Only upon reaching university to study rehabilitation counseling did Juanita realize that their exclusion from those parties was because of her brother Mickey, who had multiple impairments. "He could hear but couldn't speak." Especially in the early years, Mickey shouted to communicate, "and people didn't like that." "I didn't notice the prejudice; I knew we were excluded but didn't understand why until I studied and saw the theory, saw the research, and that's what moved me into the field of education and rehabilitation for populations with needs." Connecting the dots, Juanita discovered that Mickey and her mother had developed a sign language. "They had ten signs, basically for his survival—like indicating when he needed to eat, go to the bathroom, get shaved, or when he wanted milk instead of juice or water."

With the resilience of Caribbean women and the certainty of someone who knows what needs to be done, Juanita's mother dedicated herself entirely to raising Mickey and, in turn, teaching her daughters to work with their brother. When Juanita reflects and looks back, she realizes that in the neighborhood, there were three people with the same condition as her brother—it was the era of meningitis in Puerto Rico, some more severe than others. As is well known among Latinos: either everyone is in bed, or everyone is on the floor. Thus, Juanita's family was excluded from the more formal gatherings. It was her mother, their shield, who protected them from mockery and discrimination and instilled in them respect and responsibility for Mickey, who, despite not speaking or walking, was an integral part of the family. "Prejudice is learned, and if adults have attitudes of rejection, it's rejection to what they don't know."

Fortune favors the bold, and opportunity arises when professors from New York University (NYU) visit Puerto Rico to provide training in sign language. "I caught on to the signs quickly, and then I dared to ask if they would give me a scholarship." This enabled her to travel to the United States to work at NYU's Research Center with a federal grant for training personnel to work with people who are deaf. There, she completed her master's degree. Soon after, she earned her doctorate in Curriculum and Teaching in Deaf Education at Penn State University.

One of her greatest dreams was to return as a professor to her alma mater, the Cayey campus. "Exactly 10 years after graduating with a bachelor's degree, already with a master's and a doctorate, they recruited me." The following year, she was asked to lead the program for preparing teachers of the deaf in the Graduate School of Education at the Río Piedras campus. "For me to go to the University of Puerto Rico as a student was one thing, but for me to go as a professor was a wonderful thing," Juanita says, filled with pride. Despite her achievements and studies, Juanita was met with suspicion, and many times, she had to stand her ground and defend what she rightly deserved. "I'm here because of what I know, not who I know," was her response to anyone questioning her place. "It was a great challenge and one of my greatest achievements." Her efforts, especially in sharing her knowledge with special education professionals, were not in vain. Juanita became the dean of the faculty and an active voice in the community for people who are deaf and deaf-blind. "I have been an advocate in that sense, ensuring the rights of others."

Nearly twenty years ago, Juanita received a call from Maria Victoria Diaz, CEO of Dicapta, inviting her to participate in a proposal for accessibility in audiovisual media. When she finally got on the phone, Juanita immediately made her position known; she wasn't interested in another project that used the people who are deaf and Puerto Rican community for the benefit of others. Maria Victoria agreed. It was the beginning of a long collaboration in which they presented projects, conducted research, and produced results benefiting Spanish-speaking populations with sensory impairments.

"I believe I have achieved more than I dreamed of when I was in my neighborhood. I would like to continue helping the deaf community, so they achieve the respect they deserve."

Juanita uses the word "entrepreneurial" to describe herself. She loves to travel, and her work and perseverance have taken her from Australia to Argentina. You can find her in Cayey with a good plate of rice and beans or fried chicken, perhaps listening to some hits from Gran Combo and thinking about her next project: a book about the culture of Puerto Rican deaf individuals.

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