photo courtesy of Hiram Martinez-Cabrera
KISS& TELL
Hiram Martinez-Cabrera was just a young boy when he experienced sexual assault. Years of suffering at the hands of his stepfather led him to take action—and take back control over his life. Today, he is a sophomore at the University of Florida in Gainesville where he is studying public relations. Vice President for the university’s Pride Student Union (the LGBTQ group), he is well-known on campus as a brave trailblazer for human rights, equality and safety from violence. Here, Martinez-
Hiram Martinez-Cabrera’s third grade class photo
Cabrera shares his journey.
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heard my mom mutter prayers through her tears—she prayed this situation would pass. When I was five, I knew that money brought joy and happiness and that no money brought distress and pain. Watching my mom suffer, I wished for things to somehow change. My wish came true when I was six.
y mother and father came from Puerto Rico to the United States to live the American dream and create a better life for their children than the one they had known. But working full time while facing the stress of trying to raise young children unraveled their marriage. They divorced when I was three years old.
As the only male in a Latino household, a lot was expected of me. I had to protect my mother, and my older sister. I had to live up to a level of machismo—not shedding a tear when the tough things kept getting tougher. But I got emotional very quickly and easily. I would rather stay inside and play with my sister’s toys than go outside to play catch with the boys from my neighborhood. If my mother was disappointed in me, she never said so. She was busy working at Sea World Amusement Park from dawn to dusk. Each day, my sister and I would get dropped off at the sitter’s with a kiss and picked up at around 9 p.m. with another kiss. Going from living in a house with two parents working full time to a house supported only by my mother was hard. Our socioeconomic situation drastically changed. My mother took my sister and me to offices with posters on the walls that read: “Medicaid” and “food stamps.” People in those offices cried and begged for assistance. At home, I over26 Safe. Issue I
After years of my mom going to sleep in a bed by herself, I noticed her going more and more to her friend Salvador’s place. We all went to Salvador’s for holidays and special occasions. As time passed, Salvador began taking us to school. One day, my mom told us Salvador would be moving in with our family, and he would be our new “papi.” My sister and I were ecstatic. My mom could stop working so much. She seemed happier with a partner by her side, and, above all, my family was finally considered “normal” like those of other children in my class. Little did I know, this move marked the beginning of what would turn into eight years of experiences no person should ever be forced to face. Every Thursday night, my mother, sister, Salvador and I would gather around the TV to watch our favorite show, “World Wrestling Entertainment: Smackdown.” The show was two hours long. My mother and sister often went to bed early, and I stayed downstairs until I fell