In the most difficult moments for our motherland, we must always look first to José Martí, who lived through storms and embraced the wind, who drew ethical lines, planted nests of dreams as possible as they were necessary, and provided answers, in essence, to almost all of our earthly questions.
Always keep him close at hand: on an old or new bookshelf, in a fragment of a poem hanging on the wall, in a photograph, in the noble thoughts that come and go…
To understand childhood, to learn to speak honestly to children, as one speaks to active participants in the present and future, go to Martí.
If simple yet crucial questions get you—How far should I yield?Where should I begin?What is the purpose of my journey?Why awaken?How should I see?Who are my brothers and sisters, even in the midst of sorrow?Whom should I have the wisdom and care to consider and call vile?—go and seek out Martí.
Keep him close, not to rush to him like someone rushing to a dictionary in search of word meanings, like someone rushing to have the meaning of the world dictated to them by rote, but to converse in a way that is equal to one another, never as if he were speaking alone or as if a distant voice were reciting sacred scriptures.
When sectarianism rears its head, when distrust becomes the norm and hatred the method, when solitude claims more merit than it deserves, when they start talking again about "civilization versus barbarism," talk to Martí.
If, from one day to the next, annexationism, so often declared dead, so often buried in the mire, resurfaces with great force, go to Martí.
When the mix America tries to forget itself and divorce itself from the mix America, and someone wants it to be "great again"—and by great they mean blond, selfish, and hostile—go to Martí and discover another greatness, still pending, dangerous, yet to be born, that is the future, and that is ours.
If love suddenly robs you of sleep, run to Martí, who, through so much love, even transformed love into a soldier…; and run to Martí too if you feel fear creeping down your neck and back, if what seems like a giant is stalking you, if all you can find is a slingshot and a dirty piece of stone.
Keep him close, not to become some kind of preacher of the Master, but to include him in the conversation, so that he doesn't fade away, so that his voice doesn't die, especially amidst such perilous urgencies.
To find poetry, precise in verses and rhymes or free in rhymes and verses, with the depth that each moment demands, go to Martí.
To recognize the foundation of a writing style, which is the foundation of a new way of drawing, thinking, and proposing the world, to accept that creating is a choice, go to Martí.
When they confuse the root with the tip, when they try to mass-produce, soullessly, so-called new pines, go to Martí.
When you want to ask forgiveness without humiliating yourself, acknowledge without flattering, respect without surrendering, oppose without ceasing to be just, seek Martí.
When the slaves of Greece appear to lecture on peace, freedom, and democracy, be a little suspicious and go to him.
When you are unsure of how cowards and traitors look and act, when the world seems to be collapsing and it sounds ridiculous or excessive to utter certain words, spend some time with Martí.
When they want to kill your friend, leave your child without peace, sow shame upon your mother and grandfather, rob you of your land, your memory, and Martí himself, go to Martí.
