My Puerto Rico
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My grandparents, Dr. Gustavo Candelas and Dr. Graciela Candelas, had a meaningful influence and left an enduring legacy on the island or Puerto Rico. They each shaped the island in distinct ways, Dr. Gustavo Candelas widely regarded as the "father of ecology" in Puerto Rico, and Dr. Graciela Candelas, a pioneering and celebrated molecular biologist. Together, they forged a path in the sciences that continues to resonate today. As professors and researchers at the University of Puerto Rico, they were also part of a vibrant intellectual community deeply committed to the arts, with passions including classical music, painting, theater and ballet.
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My childhood visits to the island were filled with days spent in my grandmother's lab and boat rides through the mangroves with my grandfather, documenting lifeforms in my notebook as they each carried out their research. Evenings were shared with family and interesting guests my grandparents entertained, including Nobel laureates, painters, and musicians. This was the Puerto Rico I came to know and love. ​​
I fondly recall one of my father's stories from his teenage years. His father gave him a paid assignment: to document trash scattered across the isalnd. Those images became a traveling exhibit, displayed in malls and town squares, raising awareness about the environmental impact of human activity in Puerto Rico. He continued to protect the island from ecological harm and never wavered in his convictions, even when offered bribes in the form of luxury housing, he stood firm against the development of ecologically vital areas. He went on to found and serve as the President of the Conservation Trust, which today protests over 35,500 acres across 65 natural areas throughout Puerto Rico.
My grandmother was a firecracker. As a molecular biologist at UPR (University of Puerto Rico), she led a lab of PhD students and taught at the medical college. When I was old enough to understand, she already commanded deep respect. I remember the day my sister presented her research, when Graciela, or “Ela,” as I called her, walked into the lecture hall, the room rose in applause. That moment was a "tell all" for me and captured who she was in her career. But my memories are softer. I remember sitting on her lap in this very chair, talking about history, politics, and the world. We used that very same chair to play video games together.
She lived in university housing for professors, the coolest home you can imagine. It had paintings, books, theater programs, vinyl records and a turntable. My grandparents were avid art collectors with paintings lining the walls, each stacked one on top of the other.
Hurricane Maria destroyed her home. She passed away just before the storm, spared from seeing it destroyed. Returning last year, I found only remnants, the chair and a forgotten painting, once a valuable memory now waterlogged and eaten by termites. I could hear echoes of a life that once was.
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My grandparents shielded me from the harsher realities of the island. There were subtle signs during my childhood visits, moments that didn't fully register at the time. I remember one night, my mother hurried us out of bed and onto the floor, telling us it was just fireworks. Only later did I learn it had been a gang war in a nearby community. Despite living in university housing, my grandparents were not immune to the underlying dangers that I only came to recognize much later in life.
These stories and experiences are my photo journey on a side of the island that is often overlooked, sometimes willfully ignored. It was a side of my grandparents shielded me from, out of love. The stark contrasts are everywhere: the tourist strolling through Old San Juan, the magnificent ecological santuaries protected by the Conservation Trust, the streets of Rio Piedras, Cataño, and the barrios scattered across the isalnd. With my camera, I seek to celebrate the spirit of kindness, resilience, and vibrant joy of the Puerto Rican people. "This is my Puerto Rico, shaped by the legacy my grandparents left behind and the path I now walk".
Bullets in Barrio Obrero, 2025
POLAROIDS OF GRACIELA AND TIAS, Old San Juan 2025
