In My Opinion
Fabiola Santiago: Jail time for this brat was a good call
If you hear the walls of the Miami-Dade criminal justice building rattling, its from the applause for Circuit Judge Jorge Rodriguez-Chomat.
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Born in Matanzas, Cuba, in 1959, Fabiola Santiago grew up in Miami enamored of her family's nostalgic stories and their memories of the softest sands and the bluest beach in the world, Varadero. Exiled to the United States in 1969 with her parents and younger brother on one of the historic Freedom Flights, Fabiola has been a writer and editor for The Miami Herald since 1980.
Her award-winning stories and essays on arts, culture and identity have been published in several magazines and anthologies in the United States and abroad. She was the founding city editor and managing editor of the Spanish-language El Nuevo Herald from 1987 to 1993, and in 2001, shared in a Pulitzer Prize for coverage of the federal government seizure of the child Elian González.
She has taught journalism at the University of Florida, Florida International University and Barry University. Fabiola is a graduate of the University of Florida and has three daughters. She lives in Miami. Her novel, Reclaiming Paris, is the story of a woman's quest for identity set in contemporary Miami to the backdrop of the city's Cuban culture and history. The book has also been published in Spanish as Siempre París and in Norwegian as Habanita. Read more about her work at www.reclaimingparis.com and www.fabiolasantiago.com.
You can contact Fabiola at fsantiago@miamiherald.com
If you hear the walls of the Miami-Dade criminal justice building rattling, its from the applause for Circuit Judge Jorge Rodriguez-Chomat.
The ugly duckling of Capitol Hill — immigration reform — has turned into a swan.
I propose a new nickname for Florida: State of the Absurd.
It will be a moment to savor, a ground-breaker, in a people’s decades-long journey to become a part of this country.
This is the kind of country we have become — a nation of checkpoints.
You don’t see the usual markers this anniversary — not the front-page stories, the analysis, and certainly not the hopeful mantra the exiles have traditionally embraced with certainty: Next Year in Cuba.
I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea. Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground.
There are no words for a tragedy this grim, this incomprehensible, one that strikes so close to home for every parent in America.
Dear Miami art collectors,
Miami deserves an iconic Museum Park in its downtown.
Gov. Rick Scotts latest brilliant idea: He wants you, young Floridian, to get a cheap college education.
Im not big on anniversaries, but who can ignore a plump number like 100?
Friends warn me that, in the aftermath of death, holidays are rough.
Preacher Terry Jones’ hub of hate sits on vast green grounds in the northwest fringe of this otherwise progressive college town.
I dont remember his name or his movie, but I remember the misguided words of the visiting Cuban filmmaker showing his film at the Tower Theater in Little Havana.