1 10 2 https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/86056/archive/files/e7b3c6ff3d5dbb53e39885bc85f09d3a.pdf?Expires=1773878400&Signature=BPZumBVhTu5ldKaZOtcDRWufx%7En0SFMZNp%7E5HHYiooHSHIhu1dl0KkLm3uPRhGezOPJ-9J3XNUjhXaYPCmG%7EHltSNR04cHSdJw9ckYOOSmE5kD5kF4iI%7ECmdhdFJgTztNxe-OX0YZIKIOhOgq20nvPkioKEKgeAIZkcbXeictWdkpdTNEwTk0uvfH18hcGC3XvQ5dociWw9vtKE-BDk1cwPo8EDvZjwE5QHLLiTntlxiUIB5Ioy-93L8d1JPbjrUngsmcu3XR2pslQjJiz2oe0d9Z%7EIxu6HiRMD97w6fCbYlIakjLWp3vPv3FjHw5-e0B0LNtAV9XCLaEPc-TOE-Xw__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 13d0a84d02909e08798a5da9fbd40d58 PDF Text Text Gabriel Hernandez This conversation was recorded on Tuesday, January 30th, 2024. SUMMARY KEYWORDS parentage, authenticity, Puerto Ricanness, culture, tradition, shared histories, loss of history, cultural transmission, displacement versus privilege, tokenism of land acknowledgments, genocide, violence, empire, reciprocity Chris: Why do you do what you do? What inspired your play, Quarter Rican? Gabriel: I had, like, idle fantasies of, like a stand up set. I'd never done any stand up and I had always wanted to, you know, but without any sort of, like, discipline or whatever, right? I got some funny stories, you know, I got a couple jokes about my kids' jaundice, you know what I mean (laughs) I got jokes about my private school, like being a Latino kid in a private school, you know? So I just had, like little buttons that I was interested in pushing on and exploiting for comedy. So there wasn't even any music yet. There was very little sense of place. I mean, the Puerto Ricanness, was there, you know, because the whole premise was like, ah, is this kid (Puerto Rican enough)? And clearly, underneath the instinct to joke often the jokes come from some true, painful thing. The wondering, like, damn, are my kids just gonna be straight up white voice, you know what I mean? Like, is this kid gonna just gonna be a white boy? Chris: Like that was a fear for you? Gabriel: Yeah, like, it was a fear, yeah. Like, do I have enough, like culturally and genetically? Do I have enough of this thing to transmit it? Is he gonna have enough of this thing to claim it? Chris: Why is that important to you? Gabriel: So, that's the next question, right? It's like, that doesn't matter. Like, you know what I mean, like, is like, is this something that I need to be losing sleep over? Because the idea of pride, that was one that I sort of like kept circling, just being like, it doesn't matter, is being proud of your culture or your heritage or your whatever, is that some shit that should be a legitimate deciding factor in the way you raise (your child)? Ultimately what did feel important, because ultimately, pride leads to all sorts of bullshit too, right? It's like all sorts of, like, foul things in this world because of ethnic pride, right? It's just not something that even, like, is a positive to be leaning into. It's an existential, philosophical question. Ultimately, where I landed was what matters for this little kid who doesn't even exist yet, he should know the stories of the people in his family. He should know ancestors' stories. So even if he has one Puerto Rican grandparent, well that matters. His abuelo matters, and that dude's story matters. So it's like, my pops, even if he's like, one of one of four (grandparents to his son) and it's not a majority of that (his son’s) particular identity or something to be able to hang his hat on and be like, I'm a Puerto Rican kid or something like that. Fuck all that! He should know his dad's island like he should �know his dad's stories. He should know his dad's tradition, his grandfather, his grandfather's traditions. So it was about that, it was about all of these kinds of generation things and what gets lost generation to generation. Even when everybody in the same family is Puerto Rican, some shit gets lost, 25, 30 years in. That's the half life of cultural transmission. So it wound up being sort of always about that, even while also being sort of like just me talking shit and and like telling stories and like cracking jokes at my mother in law's expense (Chris laughs). Gabriel: But then it started like, zeroing in on place. It was kind of like it crept up on me. I realized, like, oh, this play is actually as much as it is about Puerto Ricanness this, or lack thereof, or mixedness, or whatever, this play is also very much about hood, and hoods, and changing neighborhoods. Who gets to live where? And who gets kicked the fuck out! So it started to morph a little bit to take that on in a more sobering experience of watching the thing, I think it probably still feels like a comedy, but then there's like, a couple of fucking, you know, like, kidney shots that just are very much intentional that I want to squash the laughter fucking immediately and remind people that, like, you know, fuck a land acknowledgement. These flaccid gestures at like wokeness or whatever, like, if you're sitting there in that audience, chances are you've benefited from from genocide, like straight up you know what I mean? Like if you bought a ticket to my shit, in all likelihood, you're reaping the benefits of fucking violent empire. That isn't just some shit from 300 years ago, either. Shit from 30 years ago, some shit from three weeks ago. So it was like that instinct. It had been developed in the Bronx, and I always knew that I was gonna be doing it and like Pregones (theater) or Puerto Rican Traveling Theater, but when I had the chance to do it at Hoboken, that kind of, like, lit a special little fire under my ass, where I was just like, oh, like, let me hold a mirror up to these gringos who are going to be in that house for that month. The gentrification piece would have been there no matter what but, even this particular song(performed in the play), I'm not 100% sure it would have wound up in there, if not for the Hoboken run. Chris: How does the song go? Gabriel (performing the song): It goes, How you like your fancy buildings, your spotless little piers. This block is in a rears the decks pretty severe. The Mile Square City's not as sweet as it appears. 50 weekends murdered by some filthy profiteers, 50 Puerto Ricans who were sent to die didn't know the end was coming when they went inside for the night. Now they're gone and the rent is high, perfect for these people with expensive lives. We want our reparations, but request the nod. Y'all acknowledge the land. What an empty lie. Want to talk about the hood getting gentrified. No more broken glass trash or rodenticide, but this shit never happens by accident. Rapidly purge all original inhabitants. Out with the old in with the new. Hobokens got blood on his hands. How about you? Who you gonna be when it's all over? Where you gonna go when everything's all done? Everything's all done. What you gonna do when the tide starts rising? Sun's coming up. Now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run… (continued) Nightly demons screaming as my family's hopes and dreams go up in smoke. This can't be real like Ovaltine. Shit is so extreme, we head to parts unknown, pack up our lives, and if we're lucky, find a different home. I guess this is what they call the new normal. My whole �blocks in mourning, this feeling scornful while Whitey sits and eats his eggs florentine. But Whitey brings disease pretty please. Where's my quarantine? Check it, nothing like a arson epidemic to remind these silly liberals that racism systemic, bubbling resentment, Black Lives Matter, and it's wild. How many crackers still struggle with that sentence. A fiery kind of lynching. Now watch us rise up and reduce this troubled paradise to rubble in an instant. The Quakers preach peace when they teach the five tenants, the pacifism for the birds these devils can get it centuries of black and native shit getting ransacked because whiteness is a poison, like weaponized anthrax. The black hands that built this country been sandbag. You want to be an ally, give our fucking lands back. Who you gonna be when it's all over, where you gonna go? And everything's all done. Everything's all done. What you gonna do when the tide starts rising? Sun's coming up. Now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run…out with the old in with the new. Hoboken is a fun little hang, come on through this town was sold for 1000 or two. Hoboken’s balance is long overdue. Who wants another monument to Frankie blue? The city where baseball made its debut. As long as the victims stay completely out of view. Hoboken’s got blood on his hands. How about you? Who you gonna be when it's all over, where you gonna go when everything's all done. Everything's all done. What you gonna do when we start rising? Sun's coming up now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run… � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Oral Histories by Christopher Lopez Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound Chris: Why do you do what you do? What inspired your play, Quarter Rican? Gabriel: I had, like, idle fantasies of, like a stand up set. I'd never done any stand up and I had always wanted to, you know, but without any sort of, like, discipline or whatever, right? I got some funny stories, you know, I got a couple jokes about my kids' jaundice, you know what I mean (laughs) I got jokes about my private school, like being a Latino kid in a private school, you know? So I just had, like little buttons that I was interested in pushing on and exploiting for comedy. So there wasn't even any music yet. There was very little sense of place. I mean, the Puerto Ricanness, was there, you know, because the whole premise was like, ah, is this kid (Puerto Rican enough)? And clearly, underneath the instinct to joke often the jokes come from some true, painful thing. The wondering, like, damn, are my kids just gonna be straight up white voice, you know what I mean? Like, is this kid gonna just gonna be a white boy? Chris: Like that was a fear for you? Gabriel: Yeah, like, it was a fear, yeah. Like, do I have enough, like culturally and genetically? Do I have enough of this thing to transmit it? Is he gonna have enough of this thing to claim it? Chris: Why is that important to you? Gabriel: So, that's the next question, right? It's like, that doesn't matter. Like, you know what I mean, like, is like, is this something that I need to be losing sleep over? Because the idea of pride, that was one that I sort of like kept circling, just being like, it doesn't matter, is being proud of your culture or your heritage or your whatever, is that some shit that should be a legitimate deciding factor in the way you raise (your child)? Ultimately what did feel important, because ultimately, pride leads to all sorts of bullshit too, right? It's like all sorts of, like, foul things in this world because of ethnic pride, right? It's just not something that even, like, is a positive to be leaning into. It's an existential, philosophical question. Ultimately, where I landed was what matters for this little kid who doesn't even exist yet, he should know the stories of the people in his family. He should know ancestors' stories. So even if he has one Puerto Rican grandparent, well that matters. His abuelo matters, and that dude's story matters. So it's like, my pops, even if he's like, one of one of four (grandparents to his son) and it's not a majority of that (his son’s) particular identity or something to be able to hang his hat on and be like, I'm a Puerto Rican kid or something like that. Fuck all that! He should know his dad's island like he should know his dad's stories. He should know his dad's tradition, his grandfather, his grandfather's traditions. So it was about that, it was about all of these kinds of generation things and what gets lost generation to generation. Even when everybody in the same family is Puerto Rican, some shit gets lost, 25, 30 years in. That's the half life of cultural transmission. So it wound up being sort of always about that, even while also being sort of like just me talking shit and and like telling stories and like cracking jokes at my mother in law's expense (Chris laughs). Gabriel: But then it started like, zeroing in on place. It was kind of like it crept up on me. I realized, like, oh, this play is actually as much as it is about Puerto Ricanness this, or lack thereof, or mixedness, or whatever, this play is also very much about hood, and hoods, and changing neighborhoods. Who gets to live where? And who gets kicked the fuck out! So it started to morph a little bit to take that on in a more sobering experience of watching the thing, I think it probably still feels like a comedy, but then there's like, a couple of fucking, you know, like, kidney shots that just are very much intentional that I want to squash the laughter fucking immediately and remind people that, like, you know, fuck a land acknowledgement. These flaccid gestures at like wokeness or whatever, like, if you're sitting there in that audience, chances are you've benefited from from genocide, like straight up you know what I mean? Like if you bought a ticket to my shit, in all likelihood, you're reaping the benefits of fucking violent empire. That isn't just some shit from 300 years ago, either. Shit from 30 years ago, some shit from three weeks ago. So it was like that instinct. It had been developed in the Bronx, and I always knew that I was gonna be doing it and like Pregones (theater) or Puerto Rican Traveling Theater, but when I had the chance to do it at Hoboken, that kind of, like, lit a special little fire under my ass, where I was just like, oh, like, let me hold a mirror up to these gringos who are going to be in that house for that month. The gentrification piece would have been there no matter what but, even this particular song(performed in the play), I'm not 100% sure it would have wound up in there, if not for the Hoboken run. Chris: How does the song go? Gabriel (performing the song): It goes, How you like your fancy buildings, your spotless little piers. This block is in a rears the decks pretty severe. The Mile Square City's not as sweet as it appears. 50 weekends murdered by some filthy profiteers, 50 Puerto Ricans who were sent to die didn't know the end was coming when they went inside for the night. Now they're gone and the rent is high, perfect for these people with expensive lives. We want our reparations, but request the nod. Y'all acknowledge the land. What an empty lie. Want to talk about the hood getting gentrified. No more broken glass trash or rodenticide, but this shit never happens by accident. Rapidly purge all original inhabitants. Out with the old in with the new. Hobokens got blood on his hands. How about you? Who you gonna be when it's all over? Where you gonna go when everything's all done? Everything's all done. What you gonna do when the tide starts rising? Sun's coming up. Now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run… (continued) Nightly demons screaming as my family's hopes and dreams go up in smoke. This can't be real like Ovaltine. Shit is so extreme, we head to parts unknown, pack up our lives, and if we're lucky, find a different home. I guess this is what they call the new normal. My whole blocks in mourning, this feeling scornful while Whitey sits and eats his eggs florentine. But Whitey brings disease pretty please. Where's my quarantine? Check it, nothing like a arson epidemic to remind these silly liberals that racism systemic, bubbling resentment, Black Lives Matter, and it's wild. How many crackers still struggle with that sentence. A fiery kind of lynching. Now watch us rise up and reduce this troubled paradise to rubble in an instant. The Quakers preach peace when they teach the five tenants, the pacifism for the birds these devils can get it centuries of black and native shit getting ransacked because whiteness is a poison, like weaponized anthrax. The black hands that built this country been sandbag. You want to be an ally, give our fucking lands back. Who you gonna be when it's all over, where you gonna go? And everything's all done. Everything's all done. What you gonna do when the tide starts rising? Sun's coming up. Now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run…out with the old in with the new. Hoboken is a fun little hang, come on through this town was sold for 1000 or two. Hoboken’s balance is long overdue. Who wants another monument to Frankie blue? The city where baseball made its debut. As long as the victims stay completely out of view. Hoboken’s got blood on his hands. How about you? Who you gonna be when it's all over, where you gonna go when everything's all done. Everything's all done. What you gonna do when we start rising? Sun's coming up now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run… Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Christopher López Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Gabriel Hernandez. Gabriel Hernandez is an emcee, voice actor, burlesque artist, playwright, and educator who originally hails from Hoboken, NJ. After receiving a bachelor’s degree in Latin American Studies and a master’s in Education, both from Yale University, he taught history and theater in New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey before transitioning full-time into the performing arts world. He is a proud ensemble member of Pregones Theater in the South Bronx, having appeared in The Marchers, The Desire of the Astronaut, Dancing in My Cockroach Killers, El Bolero Was My Downfall, and ¡Guaracha! Other recent credits include It’s a Wonderful Life (Mile Square Theatre), La Canción (Repertorio Español), El Coquí Espectacular and the Bottle of Doom (Two River Theater), CasablancaBox (HERE Arts), 72 miles to go… (The Alley Theatre), and the world premiere of Quarter Rican (Mile Square Theatre) in March 2023. Quarter Rican was developed through Pregones Theater’s Step-Up Residency under Jorge B. Merced’s mentorship and has had workshops or shared excerpts at various urban gardens in the South Bronx through Pregones’s Stage Garden Rumba programming, the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, Newark Symphony Hall in partnership with Yendor Theatre, Chelsea Factory in partnership with Musical Theatre Factory, and at the Puerto Rican Traveling Theater, where he is beyond thrilled to bring it home for the New York premiere, where it all began five years ago. Gabriel lives in Jersey City Heights with his wife and songwriting partner Rachel and their two young sons. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Gabriel Hernandez, Oral history interview transcription. Subject The topic of the resource Interviews Puerto Ricans--New Jersey Oral history Description An account of the resource A transcription of the oral history interview conducted with Gabriel Hernandez. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Christopher López. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Interview conducted on Tuesday, January 30, 2024. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Courtesy of Christopher López. Copyright held by Christopher López. Restrictions are only in regards to publication; any researcher may view or copy any document in the collection. Note that the written permission of the copyright owners and/or other rights holders (such as publicity and/or privacy rights) is required for distribution, reproduction, or other use of protected items beyond that allowed by fair use or other statutory exemptions. Responsibility for making an independent legal assessment of an item and securing any necessary permissions ultimately rests with persons desiring to use the item. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Oral history (transcription) art artist authenticity culture displagement empire genocide Hoboken Hoboken art scene oral history parentage Puerto Rican Puerto Rico reciprocity tradition violence https://d1y502jg6fpugt.cloudfront.net/86056/archive/files/7ea5756cb5b08d2ece0177b2b4531539.mp3?Expires=1773878400&Signature=TKUc7D1wXLAK5Px2O2FFgyDIHrLxhIuAsk58Y0XTpDb3TxGOmlvoUW%7ETVzBVa7fH4HjRkdW%7Epopaj3z86zn9MY-KwY5BBT-LHwtMHeAIh5v1ZuzSFobQgyEM8q1ExIY72wfLiZ2d20fzYiCFmE%7E6zcPRhJz5QMYXbrCby9korrp1JUD-ePoq%7EEtCgrzrMkr1fd1%7E9emFWtW2Y4CLGAwvHqo1FGh3G469DNEKgkzEV-KHOpfEuKse5YeZ-Qg%7EprnG5gQwyJJjO%7EatZjkv1HvjGzRLSk5b0MPZWKhT0b42Kkx8ucLdVjEgZSMdd9AUC2-6rFSPKqQPSN660wvnbSEohQ__&Key-Pair-Id=K6UGZS9ZTDSZM 0ec62c714243f77a24a387581de4b954 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Oral Histories by Christopher Lopez Oral History A resource containing historical information obtained in interviews with persons having firsthand knowledge. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Digital audio file Duration Length of time involved (seconds, minutes, hours, days, class periods, etc.) 00:10:01 Bit Rate/Frequency Rate at which bits are transferred (i.e. 96 kbit/s would be FM quality audio) 192kbit/s Transcription Any written text transcribed from a sound Chris: Why do you do what you do? What inspired your play, Quarter Rican? Gabriel: I had, like, idle fantasies of, like a stand up set. I'd never done any stand up and I had always wanted to, you know, but without any sort of, like, discipline or whatever, right? I got some funny stories, you know, I got a couple jokes about my kids' jaundice, you know what I mean (laughs) I got jokes about my private school, like being a Latino kid in a private school, you know? So I just had, like little buttons that I was interested in pushing on and exploiting for comedy. So there wasn't even any music yet. There was very little sense of place. I mean, the Puerto Ricanness, was there, you know, because the whole premise was like, ah, is this kid (Puerto Rican enough)? And clearly, underneath the instinct to joke often the jokes come from some true, painful thing. The wondering, like, damn, are my kids just gonna be straight up white voice, you know what I mean? Like, is this kid gonna just gonna be a white boy? Chris: Like that was a fear for you? Gabriel: Yeah, like, it was a fear, yeah. Like, do I have enough, like culturally and genetically? Do I have enough of this thing to transmit it? Is he gonna have enough of this thing to claim it? Chris: Why is that important to you? Gabriel: So, that's the next question, right? It's like, that doesn't matter. Like, you know what I mean, like, is like, is this something that I need to be losing sleep over? Because the idea of pride, that was one that I sort of like kept circling, just being like, it doesn't matter, is being proud of your culture or your heritage or your whatever, is that some shit that should be a legitimate deciding factor in the way you raise (your child)? Ultimately what did feel important, because ultimately, pride leads to all sorts of bullshit too, right? It's like all sorts of, like, foul things in this world because of ethnic pride, right? It's just not something that even, like, is a positive to be leaning into. It's an existential, philosophical question. Ultimately, where I landed was what matters for this little kid who doesn't even exist yet, he should know the stories of the people in his family. He should know ancestors' stories. So even if he has one Puerto Rican grandparent, well that matters. His abuelo matters, and that dude's story matters. So it's like, my pops, even if he's like, one of one of four (grandparents to his son) and it's not a majority of that (his son’s) particular identity or something to be able to hang his hat on and be like, I'm a Puerto Rican kid or something like that. Fuck all that! He should know his dad's island like he should know his dad's stories. He should know his dad's tradition, his grandfather, his grandfather's traditions. So it was about that, it was about all of these kinds of generation things and what gets lost generation to generation. Even when everybody in the same family is Puerto Rican, some shit gets lost, 25, 30 years in. That's the half life of cultural transmission. So it wound up being sort of always about that, even while also being sort of like just me talking shit and and like telling stories and like cracking jokes at my mother in law's expense (Chris laughs). Gabriel: But then it started like, zeroing in on place. It was kind of like it crept up on me. I realized, like, oh, this play is actually as much as it is about Puerto Ricanness this, or lack thereof, or mixedness, or whatever, this play is also very much about hood, and hoods, and changing neighborhoods. Who gets to live where? And who gets kicked the fuck out! So it started to morph a little bit to take that on in a more sobering experience of watching the thing, I think it probably still feels like a comedy, but then there's like, a couple of fucking, you know, like, kidney shots that just are very much intentional that I want to squash the laughter fucking immediately and remind people that, like, you know, fuck a land acknowledgement. These flaccid gestures at like wokeness or whatever, like, if you're sitting there in that audience, chances are you've benefited from from genocide, like straight up you know what I mean? Like if you bought a ticket to my shit, in all likelihood, you're reaping the benefits of fucking violent empire. That isn't just some shit from 300 years ago, either. Shit from 30 years ago, some shit from three weeks ago. So it was like that instinct. It had been developed in the Bronx, and I always knew that I was gonna be doing it and like Pregones (theater) or Puerto Rican Traveling Theater, but when I had the chance to do it at Hoboken, that kind of, like, lit a special little fire under my ass, where I was just like, oh, like, let me hold a mirror up to these gringos who are going to be in that house for that month. The gentrification piece would have been there no matter what but, even this particular song(performed in the play), I'm not 100% sure it would have wound up in there, if not for the Hoboken run. Chris: How does the song go? Gabriel (performing the song): It goes, How you like your fancy buildings, your spotless little piers. This block is in a rears the decks pretty severe. The Mile Square City's not as sweet as it appears. 50 weekends murdered by some filthy profiteers, 50 Puerto Ricans who were sent to die didn't know the end was coming when they went inside for the night. Now they're gone and the rent is high, perfect for these people with expensive lives. We want our reparations, but request the nod. Y'all acknowledge the land. What an empty lie. Want to talk about the hood getting gentrified. No more broken glass trash or rodenticide, but this shit never happens by accident. Rapidly purge all original inhabitants. Out with the old in with the new. Hobokens got blood on his hands. How about you? Who you gonna be when it's all over? Where you gonna go when everything's all done? Everything's all done. What you gonna do when the tide starts rising? Sun's coming up. Now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run… (continued) Nightly demons screaming as my family's hopes and dreams go up in smoke. This can't be real like Ovaltine. Shit is so extreme, we head to parts unknown, pack up our lives, and if we're lucky, find a different home. I guess this is what they call the new normal. My whole blocks in mourning, this feeling scornful while Whitey sits and eats his eggs florentine. But Whitey brings disease pretty please. Where's my quarantine? Check it, nothing like a arson epidemic to remind these silly liberals that racism systemic, bubbling resentment, Black Lives Matter, and it's wild. How many crackers still struggle with that sentence. A fiery kind of lynching. Now watch us rise up and reduce this troubled paradise to rubble in an instant. The Quakers preach peace when they teach the five tenants, the pacifism for the birds these devils can get it centuries of black and native shit getting ransacked because whiteness is a poison, like weaponized anthrax. The black hands that built this country been sandbag. You want to be an ally, give our fucking lands back. Who you gonna be when it's all over, where you gonna go? And everything's all done. Everything's all done. What you gonna do when the tide starts rising? Sun's coming up. Now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run…out with the old in with the new. Hoboken is a fun little hang, come on through this town was sold for 1000 or two. Hoboken’s balance is long overdue. Who wants another monument to Frankie blue? The city where baseball made its debut. As long as the victims stay completely out of view. Hoboken’s got blood on his hands. How about you? Who you gonna be when it's all over, where you gonna go when everything's all done. Everything's all done. What you gonna do when we start rising? Sun's coming up now, where you gonna run? Where you gonna run? Run, run, run… Interviewer The person(s) performing the interview Christopher López Interviewee The person(s) being interviewed Gabriel Hernandez. Gabriel Hernandez is an emcee, voice actor, burlesque artist, playwright, and educator who originally hails from Hoboken, NJ. After receiving a bachelor’s degree in Latin American Studies and a master’s in Education, both from Yale University, he taught history and theater in New York, Connecticut, and New Jersey before transitioning full-time into the performing arts world. He is a proud ensemble member of Pregones Theater in the South Bronx, having appeared in The Marchers, The Desire of the Astronaut, Dancing in My Cockroach Killers, El Bolero Was My Downfall, and ¡Guaracha! Other recent credits include It’s a Wonderful Life (Mile Square Theatre), La Canción (Repertorio Español), El Coquí Espectacular and the Bottle of Doom (Two River Theater), CasablancaBox (HERE Arts), 72 miles to go… (The Alley Theatre), and the world premiere of Quarter Rican (Mile Square Theatre) in March 2023. Quarter Rican was developed through Pregones Theater’s Step-Up Residency under Jorge B. Merced’s mentorship and has had workshops or shared excerpts at various urban gardens in the South Bronx through Pregones’s Stage Garden Rumba programming, the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, Newark Symphony Hall in partnership with Yendor Theatre, Chelsea Factory in partnership with Musical Theatre Factory, and at the Puerto Rican Traveling Theater, where he is beyond thrilled to bring it home for the New York premiere, where it all began five years ago. Gabriel lives in Jersey City Heights with his wife and songwriting partner Rachel and their two young sons. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Gabriel Hernandez, Oral history interview audio recording. Subject The topic of the resource Interviews Puerto Ricans--New Jersey Oral history Description An account of the resource The digital audio recording of the oral history interview conducted with Gabriel Hernandez. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Christopher López. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource Interview conducted on Tuesday, January 30, 2024. Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Courtesy of Christopher López. Copyright held by Christopher López. Restrictions are only in regards to publication; any researcher may view or copy any document in the collection. Note that the written permission of the copyright owners and/or other rights holders (such as publicity and/or privacy rights) is required for distribution, reproduction, or other use of protected items beyond that allowed by fair use or other statutory exemptions. Responsibility for making an independent legal assessment of an item and securing any necessary permissions ultimately rests with persons desiring to use the item. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource MP3 Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Oral history (digital audio file) art artist authenticity culture displagement empire genocide Hoboken Hoboken art scene oral history parentage Puerto Rican Puerto Rico reciprocity tradition violence