Bridging the Cultural Gap

In most of the U.S., they would be something of a rarity these days--three generations under one roof. They share a modest, four-bedroom house in Westchester, a mostly Cuban town in the western part of Dade County: Carlos Marquez Sterling, 83, and his wife Waldina Hernandez Cata, 66; Daughter Uva, 37, and her husband Jorge J. Clavijo, 45; and their two children, Uvi, 17, and Christina, 12. As has been true of other Cuban families with several generations living in South Florida, some members of the Marquez Sterling dynasty have found adjusting to the American way of life difficult. Admits Uva: "We have encountered all the problems of adaptation."

Don Carlos, the patriarch of the family, grew up in Cuba and, as a professor of history at the University of Havana, helped write his country's 1940 constitution. Nearly two decades later he found himself opposing both the corrupt regime of President Fulgencio Batista and the revolution headed by a former student of his named Fidel Castro. After Castro gained power on New Year's Day 1959, Don Carlos, his wife and stepdaughter fled the country and settled in Washington. Uva's boyfriend Jorge left Cuba to join Uva in 1961. That same year, the family moved to New York City, where Don Carlos eventually took a job teaching Spanish at Long Island's C.W. Post College. Jorge and Uva married in 1962. The entire family moved to South Florida in 1978.

The move, Uva believes, was "a great decision." She is a writer and poet at home in the Latin atmosphere of Miami. "Even though I've been in the U.S. for 21 years and know English well enough, I feel in Spanish," says Uva, who has published four books of poetry in her native language. She will begin graduate studies in Spanish literature at the University of Miami this January, while Jorge, a real estate agent, is studying for his B. A. in political science at Biscayne College. Don Carlos still taps out a column three times a week for a Spanish-language newspaper, while Uvi is a freshman at Miami-Dade Community College and Christina is in seventh grade.

There are strains. The grandparents prefer to speak Spanish at home and tune in only Spanish-language TV and radio programs, Don Carlos, center, and his family while Uva and Jorge switch back and forth between Spanish and English programs, and Uvi and Christina strictly prefer American offerings. The grandmother feels that her grandchildren's American friends are "very ill-mannered and have excessive freedom," and Uva must often act as referee between her mother and her daughters. Twenty years ago, for example, the grandparents insisted that a chaperone accompany Uva and Jorge when they went out, but now Uvi is permitted to go on dates without one. Even Uva and Jorge are sometimes divided over U.S. manners and mores. "Cuban men find it difficult to adjust their machismo to allow their women to work," says Uva. "This has been tough on Jorge, but he has adjusted."

The commitment to overthrowing Castro varies from generation to generation. "The people of Cuba will need help from the exiles," says Don Carlos. "I'm ready to serve." Admits Jorge: "We still feel very strongly about what has happened to Cuba, but we must face reality and go on living. And as time goes by, most of the younger generation will not have the attachment to the Cuban cause we have."

More often than not, Uva feels, "I'm part of the generation that is caught in the middle." She and her husband bridge the gap by trying to eat dinner with the entire family every night and serving Cuban food at least twice a week. Uva and Jorge recognize, though, they cannot raise their children as if they still lived in their homeland. They gave Uvi a used Toyota, for example, when she graduated from high school last June. "It would be unthinkable in Cuba," says Jorge, "but she needs the car to drive to college every day."

Still, the family remains close. "My in-laws are smart enough not to live in the past," says Jorge. Don Carlos does seem to accept the American influences on his grandchildren. "They have grown up here, they speak English better than Spanish, and their mentality is more English than Spanish," he admits. Yet Granddaughter Uvi adds, "I know I am an American, but from my parents I feel there is still something that is Cuban in me." Don Carlos would no doubt be pleased.

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