jovenes latinos

El Puertorriqueño y el Resto del Mundo

Como todos sabemos, somos una raza muy especial … y aquí una parte de la prueba.

El Puertorriqueño no se emborracha: se da una
jumeta, se pone como culo, se ajuma, se pone como
tuerca, se jiende.

El Puertorriqueño no se cae: se da una matá, se jode.

El Puertorriqueño no se patina: resbala.

El Puertorriqueño no espía: vela , liga.

El Puertorriqueño no se burla: gufea, vacila, te monta el bellón.

El Puertorriqueño no se enamora: enfusca, se pone
como el cabro e'costa, se enchula.

El Puertorriqueño no convence: coge de zángano,
coge de pendejo.

El Puertorriqueño no se lanza: se tira, se zumba.

El Puertorriqueño no besuquea: se grajea.

El Puertorriqueño no lame: lambe.

El Puertorriqueño no acaricia: soba, manusea.

El Puertorriqueño no molesta: chava o jode.

El Puertorriqueño no se da un duchazo: se baña.

El Puertorriqueño no llena su estomago: se jarta.

El Puertorriqueño no se molesta: se enfogona , se encojona, se encabrona.

El Puertorriqueño no te golpea: te da un trancazo, te mete un puño o un sopapo, te parte la cara, te esbarata, te mete en la cara, te da contra e’ piso.

El Puertorriqueño no te ordena: te manda.

El Puertorriqueño no tiene amantes: tiene cortejas,
tiene chillas, tiene amiguitas, tiene putas, tiene cueras.

El Puertorriqueño no sufre de diarrea: de churra.

El Puertorriqueño orina: echa una meaita.

El Puertorriqueño no fracasa: se cuelga, se chava,
se jode.

El Puertorriqueño no sale corriendo: sale embalao.

El Puertorriqueño no se viste: se muda de ropa.

El Puertorriqueño no encuentra: jalla.

El Puertorriqueño no evacua: echa una rica cagada.

El Puertorriqueño no comparte en grupo: hace corillo, forma un bayú,paricea, tripea.

El Puertorriqueño no se sube: se encarama, se trepa.

El Puertorriqueño no toma siestas: echa ñapitas, echa un sueñito.

El Puertorriqueño no se esconde: se agacha.

El Puertorriqueño no se pone en cuclillas: el se añangota.

El Puertorriqueño no tiene amigos: tiene panas.

El Puertorriqueño no se baja: se apea.

El Puertorriqueño no ríe hasta mas no poder: se muere de la risa, se mea de la risa, le da pavera.

El Puertorriqueño no se retira: se larga, se va pal carajo.

Al Puertorriqueño no le es dificil: se pone jodona la cosa, se pone la cosa pelúa, se le pone la piña agria

El Puertorriqueño no muere: engancha los zapatos,
se jode, se va pa’ la tierra de los calvos.

El Puertorriqueño no tartamudea: gaguea

El Puertorriqueño no balbucea: murmulla

El Puertorriqueño no va rápido: va a las millas de chaflán, Va como una bala, como alma que lleva el diablo.

El Puertorriqueño no dice cosas sin sentido: habla mierda.

El Puertorriqueño no es cobarde: es pendejo.

El Puertorriqueño no enamora: rapea, tira la labia.

El Puertorriqueño no dice … qué problema: dice…qué jodienda. dice…que arroz con culo.

El Puertorriqueño no pide un trago: pide un palo o un diesisei.

El Puertorriqueño no dice … Ay!: dice… coño!!, dice… puñeta!! dice… me caso’e diez!!

El Puertorriqueño no tiene relaciones sexuales: chinga, echa un buen polvo, echa un canelo o da un buen tablazo.

El Puertorriqueño no vive lejos: vive en el culo’ el mundo, en el carajo viejo, en las ventas del infierno.

El Puertorriqueño no te molesta: Te saca por el techo.

El Puertorriqueño no te dice muy bien: Te dice a'pues bien.

Si eres puertorriqueño posiblemente le puedes seguir añadiendo a esta mierda y seguir la pendejá mandándoselo a otro puertorro, primo, boricua, pana, etc.

______________     INCIDENTAL   _______________

Prólogo:

Un viaje a los confines de una tierra de ensueño, que nadie volvería a pisar… Al menos en el mundo de los vivos.

                                                Parte 1. Saeta  destino

Ruedas rompiendo la calma de la carretera nocturna,

Qué es…

Una mancha carmesí luchando con las flechas del viento

El volante no puede dar marcha atrás.

Estallidos de huesos al borde de un acantilado,

Los ríos púrpura corriendo por las baldosas.

                                                    Parte 2. Exhalar

Una mano amiga, sostiene un móvil,

Ayuda…

Soporte…

Consuelo…

No es posible condonar…

Tres fallecidos; dos americanos, un latino demasiado joven.

El crepúsculo separa las almas de los cuerpos las arranca al tocar la carne viva,

Voraz y precozmente como una bala atravesando el tiempo…

                                                   Parte 3. Óbito

En el sueño reposa ya,  

Cierra  las puertas  a los ojos de brillo clavel, muralla de

Preguntas sin respuesta.

Llanto y tierra.

Lapidaciones de miradas,

Tiesas de muerte.

Ataúd de velas y flores.

El beso,

Dado en la frete

Frente partida, fría

Cetrina

                                                             FIN

     En memoria de Aron Molina, el chef más guapo del cielo, te amo Picho!!. 

Autor: La Chica laberinto 

 

_____________________INCIDENTAL_________________


Prólogo:

Un viaje a los confines de una tierra de ensueño, que nadie volvería a pisar… Al menos en el mundo de los vivos.

 

                                                Parte 1. Saeta  destino

Ruedas rompiendo la calma de la carretera nocturna,

Qué es…

Una mancha carmesí luchando con las flechas del viento

El volante no puede dar marcha atrás.

Estallidos de huesos al borde de un acantilado,

Los ríos púrpura corriendo por las baldosas.


                                                    Parte 2. Exhalar

Una mano amiga, sostiene un móvil,

Ayuda…

Soporte…

Consuelo…

No es posible condonar…

Tres fallecidos; dos americanos, un latino demasiado joven.

El crepúsculo separa las almas de los cuerpos las arranca al tocar la carne viva,

Voraz y precozmente como una bala atravesando el tiempo…


                                                   Parte 3. Óbito

En el sueño reposa ya,  

Cierra  las puertas  a los ojos de brillo clavel, muralla de

Preguntas sin respuesta.

Llanto y tierra.

Lapidaciones de miradas,

Tiesas de muerte.

Ataúd de velas y flores.

El beso,

Dado en la frete

Frente partida, fría

Cetrina

                                                             FIN



 En memoria de Aron Molina, el chef más guapo del cielo, te amo Picho!!. 



Autor: La Chica laberinto 

Estimado racista...

Estimado racista:

  • Tu carro es Japonés,
  • la cerveza es alemana,
  • tu vino es español,
  • tu democracia es griega,
  • el café es colombiano,
  • el té es chino,
  • tu reloj es suizo,
  • tu moda es francesa,
  • tu camiseta es india,
  • tus zapatos son de Tailandia,
  • tu radio es coreano,
  • el vodka que tomas es ruso.

¿Y te quejas de que tu vecino es un inmigrante?

El Aguante
Calle 13
El Aguante

Letra: René Pérez / Música: Eduardo Cabra

El Aguante

Nacimos para aguantar lo que el cuerpo sostiene
aguantamos lo que vino y aguantamos lo que viene
aguantamos aunque tengamos los segundos contados
nuestro cuerpo aguanta hasta quince minutos ahorcado.
Aguantamos latigazos, que nos corten los dos brazos
fracturas en cualquier hueso, tres semanas con un yeso.
Aguantamos todo el tiempo las ganas de ir al baño
pa’ ver el cometa Halley, hay que aguantar 70 años.
Aguantamos la escuela, la facultad, el instituto
a la hora de cenar, nos aguantamos los erutos
el pueblo de Burundi sigue aguantando la hambruna
aguantamos tres días para llegar a la luna.

Aguantamos el frío del ártico, el calor del trópico
aguantamos con anticuerpos los virus microscópicos
aguantamos las tormentas, huracanes, el mal clima
aguantamos Nagasaki, aguantamos Hiroshima.
Aunque no queramos, aguantamos nuevas leyes 
aguantamos hoy por hoy que todavía existan reyes
castigamos al humilde y aguantamos al cruel
aguantamos ser esclavos por nuestro color de piel.
Aguantamos el capitalismo, el comunismo, el socialismo,
el feudalismo, aguantamos hasta el pendejismo.
Aguantamos al culpable cuando se hace el inocente
aguantamos cada año a nuestro pu… presidente.

Coro:
Por lo que fue y por lo que pudo ser 
por lo que hay, por lo que puede faltar
por lo que venga y por este instante 
¡a brindar por el aguante! 

Por lo que fue y por lo que pudo ser 
por lo que hay, por lo que puede faltar
por lo que venga y por este instante 
levanta el vaso ¡y a brindar por el aguante!
¡A brindar por el aguante! 

Aguantamos cualquier tipo de dolor aunque nos duela
aguantamos Pinochet, aguantamos a Videla
Franco, Mao, Ríos Montt, Mugabe, Hitler, Idi Amin
Stalin, Bush, Truman, Ariel Sharón y Hussein.
Aguantamos mas de veinte campos de concentración
cuando nadas bajo el agua aguantas la respiración
pa’ construir una pared aguantamos los ladrillos
el que no fuma se aguanta el olor a cigarrillo
aguantamos que Monsanto infecte nuestra comida
aguantamos el agente naranja y los pesticidas
cuando navegamos, aguantamos el mareo
aguantamos el salario mínimo y el desempleo.
Aguantamos las Malvinas y la invasión británica
en la ciudad de Pompeya aguantamos lava volcánica
y dentro de la lógica de nuestra humanidad
nos creemos la mentira y nadie aguanta la verdad.

Coro:
Por lo que fue y por lo que pudo ser 
por lo que hay, por lo que puede faltar
por lo que venga y por este instante 
levanta el vaso ¡y a brindar por el aguante!
¡A brindar por el aguante! 

Aguantamos al ateo, al mormón, al cristiano
al budista, al judío, aguantamos al pagano
aguantamos el que vende balas y el que las dispara
aguantamos la muerte de Lennon, la de Víctor Jara.
Aguantamos muchas guerras, Vietnam, la Guerra Fría
la Guerra de los 100 años, la Guerra de los 6 días.
Que aguanten la revancha, venimos al desquite
hoy nuestro hígado aguanta lo que la barra invite. 

For what was 
for what is 
for what will be
Slainte! (en español, ¡salud!)

Coro: 
Por lo que fue y por lo que pudo ser 
por lo que hay, por lo que puede faltar
por lo que venga y por este instante 
¡a brindar por el aguante!

Por lo que fue y por lo que pudo ser 
por lo que hay, por lo que puede faltar
por lo que venga y por este instante 
levanta el vaso ¡y a brindar por el aguante!
¡A brindar por el aguante! 

Grabado en Música Satanica por John Blais
Mezcla: Rich Costey
Asistente de Mezcla / Ingeniero ProTools: Chris Kasych
Mezclado en Eldorado Recording Studios, Los Angeles, California


Músicos:
Bateria: José David Perez
Sintetizadores: Eduardo Cabra
Percusión: Frank Fuentes, Eduardo Cabra y René Perez, William Casper
Flautas Dulces: Edgar Abraham
Guitarra Acústica: Eduardo Cabra
Guitarra Eléctrica: Eduardo Cabra
Acordeón: Eduardo Cabra
Violín: Francisco Jimenez 

Coro: Ileana Cabra, José Cabra, Gabriel Cabra, Ismael Cancel, Ana G. Figueroa, Luis Rodríguez, Eduardo Trabada

Voces de apoyo:
William Casper, Carlos Rodriguez, René Perez, Eduardo Cabra, Ismael Cancel, Frank David Fuentes, Ileana Cabra

BRILLA PUERTO RICO EN CHINA

El Colegio de Mayagüez logra 3era posición en competencia mundial.

Enactus RUM entre los mejores del mundo

El equipo campeón nacional de la Copa Enactus, del Recinto Universitario de Mayagüez (RUM) de la Universidad de Puerto Rico (UPR), obtuvo hoy el 3er lugar en la Copa Mundial que se celebró esta semana en la ciudad de Pekín en China, donde compitió con universidades de 35 países del mundo. La organización estudiantil Enactus RUM pasó, alrededor de las 2:00 a.m. (hora local), a la ronda final, como único representante latinoamericano, junto con los equipos de Irlanda, Marruecos y el anfitrión país de China. Luego de realizar sus presentaciones una vez más para el panel de jueces internacionales, la entidad anunció los ganadores, el primer lugar correspondió a China, el segundo, a Marruecos y en la tercera posición a Puerto Rico. Previo a esa ronda, el grupo boricua obtuvo un pase ante los 35 países para llegar a la semifinal donde se colocó en la cuarta liga compitiendo con Australia, Corea y Alemania en este evento organizado por la organización Enactus, cuya misión es transformar vidas y desarrollar una comunidad sostenible por medio del emprendimiento y la solidaridad.

Junot Díaz (born December 31, 1968) is a Dominican-American  writer, creative writing professor at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), and fiction editor at Boston Review. He also serves on the board of advisers for Freedom University, a volunteer organization in Georgia that provides post-secondary instruction to undocumented immigrants. Central to Díaz’s work is the immigrant experience. He received the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction for his novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, in 2008. He is a 2012 MacArthur Fellow.

Díaz was born in Villa Juana, a neighborhood in Santo DomingoDominican Republic. He was the third child in a family of five. Throughout most of his early childhood, he lived with his mother and grandparents while his father worked in the United States. Díaz emigrated to Parlin, New Jersey, in December 1974, where he was re-united with his father. There he lived less than a mile from what he has described as “one of the largest landfills in New Jersey”.

He attended Madison Park Elementary and was a voracious reader, often walking four miles in order to borrow books from his public library. At this time Díaz became fascinated with apocalyptic films and books, especially the work of John Christopher, the original Planet of the Apes films, and the BBC mini-series Edge of Darkness. Díaz graduated from Cedar Ridge High School (now merged to form Old Bridge High School) in Old Bridge Township, New Jersey in 1987.[8] Though he would not begin to write formally until years later,[9]

He attended Kean College in Union, New Jersey for one year before transferring and ultimately completing his BA at Rutgers College in 1992, majoring in English; there he was involved in Demarest Hall, a creative-writing, living-learning, residence hall, and in various student organizations. He was exposed to the authors who would motivate him to become a writer: Toni Morrison and Sandra Cisneros. He worked his way through college by delivering pool tables, washing dishes, pumping gas, and working at Raritan River Steel. Reflecting on his experience growing up in America and working his way through college in 2010, Díaz said: “I can safely say I’ve seen the US from the bottom up…I may be a success story as an individual. But if you adjust the knob and just take it back one setting to the family unit, I would say my family tells a much more complicated story. It tells the story of two kids in prison. It tells the story of enormous poverty, of tremendous difficulty." A pervasive theme in his short story collection Drown is the absence of a father, which reflects Diaz’s strained relationship with his own father, with whom he no longer keeps in contact. When Diaz once published an article in a Dominican newspaper condemning the country’s treatment of Haitians, his father wrote a letter to the editor saying that the writer of the article should "go back home to Haiti.”

After graduating from Rutgers he was employed at Rutgers University Press as an editorial assistant. At this time Diaz also first created the quasi-autobiographical character of Yunior in a story he used as part of his application for his MFA program in the early 1990s. The character would become important to much of his later work including Drown and This is How You Lose Her.[12] Yunior would become central to much of Diaz’s work, Diaz later explaining how “My idea, ever since Drown, was to write six or seven books about him that would form one big novel”. He earned his MFA from Cornell University in 1995, where he wrote most of his first collection of short stories. Currently, Díaz teaches creative writing at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology as the Rudge and Nancy Allen Professor of Writing and is also the fiction editor for Boston Review. He is active in the Dominican American community and is a founding member of the Voices of Our Nations Arts Writing Workshop, which focuses on writers of color. Díaz was a Millet Writing Fellow at Wesleyan University, in 2009, and participated in Wesleyan’s Distinguished Writers Series.

Díaz is related to American journalist Nefertiti Jáquez, who currently works for NBC News in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He lives in a domestic partnership with paranormal romance writer Marjorie Liu.

His short fiction has appeared in The New Yorker magazine, which listed him as one of the 20 top writers for the 21st century. He has also been published in StoryThe Paris Review, and in the anthologies The Best American Short Stories four times (1996, 1997, 1999, 2000), The PEN/O. Henry Prize Stories (2009), and African Voices. He is best known for his two major works: the short story collection Drown (1996) and the novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (2007). Both were published to critical acclaim and he won the 2008 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction for the latter. Diaz himself has described his writing style as “[…] a disobedient child of New Jersey and the Dominican Republic if that can be possibly imagined with way too much education.”

Díaz has received a Eugene McDermott Award, a fellowship from the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, a Lila Acheson Wallace Readers Digest Award, the 2002 PEN/Malamud Award, the 2003 US-Japan Creative Artist Fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts, a fellowship at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study at Harvard University and the Rome Prize from theAmerican Academy of Arts and Letters. He was selected as one of the 39 most important Latin American writers under the age of 39 by the Bogotá World Book Capital and the Hay Festival. In September 2007, Miramax acquired the rights for a film adaptation of The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao.

The stories in Drown focus on the teenage narrator’s impoverished, fatherless youth in the Dominican Republic and his struggle adapting to his new life in New Jersey. Reviews were generally strong but not without complaints. Díaz read twice for PRI‘s This American Life: “Edison, New Jersey" in 1997 and "How to Date a Browngirl, Blackgirl, Whitegirl, or Halfie" in 1998. Díaz also published a Spanish translation of' Drown, entitled Negocios. The arrival of his novel (The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao) in 2007 prompted a noticeable re-appraisal of Díaz’s earlier work. Drownbecame widely recognized as an important landmark in contemporary literature—ten years after its initial publication—even by critics who had either entirely ignored the book or had given it poor reviews.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao was published in September 2007. New York Times critic Michiko Kakutani characterized Díaz’s writing in the novel as:

a sort of streetwise brand of Spanglish that even the most monolingual reader can easily inhale: lots of flash words and razzle-dazzle talk, lots of body language on the sentences, lots ofDavid Foster Wallace-esque footnotes and asides. And he conjures with seemingly effortless aplomb the two worlds his characters inhabit: the Dominican Republic, the ghost-haunted motherland that shapes their nightmares and their dreams; and America (a.k.a. New Jersey), the land of freedom and hope and not-so-shiny possibilities that they’ve fled to as part of the great Dominican diaspora.

Díaz said about the protagonist of the novel, “Oscar was a composite of all the nerds that I grew up with who didn’t have that special reservoir of masculine privilege. Oscar was who I would have been if it had not been for my father or my brother or my own willingness to fight or my own inability to fit into any category easily.” He also has said that he sees a meaningful and fitting connection between the science fiction and/or epic literary genres and the multi-faceted immigrant experience.

Writing for Time, critic Lev Grossman said that Díaz’s novel was “so astoundingly great that in a fall crowded with heavyweights–Richard RussoPhilip Roth–Díaz is a good bet to run away with the field. You could call The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao… the saga of an immigrant family, but that wouldn’t really be fair. It’s an immigrant-family saga for people who don’t read immigrant-family sagas.”

In addition to the Pulitzer, The Brief Wondrous life of Oscar Wao was awarded the John Sargent Sr. First Novel Prize, the National Book Critics Circle Award for Best Novel of 2007 the Anisfield-Wolf Book Awards, the 2008 Dayton Literary Peace Prize for Fiction, the 2008 Hurston-Wright Legacy Award, and the Massachusetts Book Awards Fiction Award in 2007. Díaz also won theJames Beard Foundation’s MFK Fisher Distinguished Writing Award for his article “He’ll Take El Alto”, which appeared in Gourmet, September 2007. The novel was also selected by Time andNew York Magazine as the best novel of 2007. The St. Louis Post-DispatchLos Angeles TimesVillage VoiceChristian Science MonitorNew StatesmanWashington Post, and Publishers Weekly were among the 35 publications that placed the novel on their 'Best of 2007’ lists. The novel was the subject of a panel at the 2008 Modern Language Association conference in San Francisco. Stanford University also dedicated a symposium to Junot Díaz in 2012, with roundtables of leading US Latino/a Studies scholars commenting on his creative writing and activism.

In February, 2010, Díaz’s contributions toward encouraging fellow writers were recognized when he was awarded the Barnes & Noble Writers for Writers Award, alongside Maxine Hong Kingston and poet M.L. Liebler. Also in February 2010, Díaz contributed a highly negative critical assessment of the presidency of Barack Obama to The New Yorker. writing in his essay “One Year: Storyteller-in-Chief”:

All year I’ve been waiting for Obama to flex his narrative muscles, to tell the story of his presidency, of his Administration, to tell the story of where our country is going and why we should help deliver it there. A coherent, accessible, compelling story—one that is narrow enough to be held in our minds and hearts and that nevertheless is roomy enough for us, the audience, to weave our own predilections, dreams, fears, experiences into its fabric. It should necessarily be a story eight years in duration, a story that no matter what our personal politics are will excite us enough to go out and reëlect the teller just so we can be there for the story’s end. But from where I sit our President has not even told a bad story; he, in my opinion, has told no story at all. I heard him talk healthcare to death but while he was elaborating ideas his opponents were telling stories. Sure they were bad ones, full of distortions and outright lies, but at least they were talking to the American people in the correct idiom: that of narrative. The President gave us a raft of information about why healthcare would be a swell idea; the Republicans gave us death panels. Ideas are wonderful things, but unless they’re couched in a good story they can do nothing.

In September 2012, he released a new collection of short stories entitled This Is How You Lose Her. The collection was named a finalist for the 2012 National Book Award on October 10, 2012. In his review of the book on online arts and culture journal Frontier Psychiatrist, Editor-In-Chief Keith Meatto wrote, “While This is How You Lose Her will surely advance Diaz’s literary career, it may complicate his love life. For the reader, the collection raises the obvious question of what you would do if your lover cheated on you, and implies two no less challenging questions: How do you find love and how do you make it last?”

A description of the book is as follows:

The stories in This Is How You Lose Her, by turns hilarious and devastating, raucous and tender, lay bare the infinite longing and inevitable weaknesses of our all-too-human hearts. They capture the heat of new passion, the recklessness with which we betray what we most treasure, and the torture we go through – “the begging, the crawling over glass, the crying” – to try to mend what we’ve broken beyond repair. They recall the echoes that intimacy leaves behind, even where we thought we did not care. They teach us the catechism of affections: that the faithlessness of the fathers is visited upon the children; that what we do unto our exes is inevitably done in turn unto us; and that loving thy neighbor as thyself is a commandment more safely honored on platonic than erotic terms. Most of all, these stories remind us that the habit of passion always triumphs over experience, and that “love, when it hits us for real, has a half-life of forever.”

Also in 2012, Diaz received a $500,000 (U.S.) MacArthur “Genius grant” award; however, the reaction to the news was not entirely positive, as evidenced by a negative piece by Nina Burleigh in the New York Observer that called the decision to award Diaz “baffling” in the light of his having already won a number of major literary prizes. Diaz himself is quoted as saying of his award win in the MIT News “I think I was speechless for two days,” and that it was both “stupendous” and a “mind-blowing honor.”

Diaz is currently at work on his second long novel, a science-fiction epic provisionally entitled Monstro. Diaz has previously attempted to write a science fiction novel twice, with earlier efforts in the genre “Shadow of the Adept, a far-future novel in the vein of Gene Wolfe’s The Shadow of the Torturer, and Dark America, an Akira-inspired post-apocalyptic nightmare” remaining incomplete and unpublished. In an interview with New York Magazine prior to the release of This Is How You Lose Her, Diaz revealed that the work-in-progress novel concerns “[…] a 14-year-old “Dominican York” girl who saves the planet from a full-blown apocalypse," but he has also warned that the novel may never be completed: "“I’m only at the first part of the novel, so I haven’t really gotten down to the eating,” he says, “and I’ve got to eat a couple cities before I think the thing will really get going.”

Of writing and the arts, Diaz has said "Art is what matters most, and if you’re not contextualizing for a larger push for the arts, what does it matter? What’s really relevant, important, and exigent is that all of us are under pressure to spend less time with art, and we’ve got to figure out a way to talk and encourage each other to do the opposite." With regard to his own writing, Diaz has said “There are two types of writers: those who write for other writers, and those who write for readers,” and that he prefers to keep his readers in mind when writing, as they’ll be more likely to gloss over his mistakes and act as willing participants in a story, rather than actively looking to criticize his writing.

Díaz has been active in a number of community organizations in New York City, from Pro-Libertad, to the Dominican Workers’ Party (Partido de los Trabajadores Dominicanos), and the Unión de Jóvenes Dominicanos (lit. "Dominican Youth Union”). He has been critical of immigration policy in the United States. With fellow author Edwidge Danticat, Díaz published an op-ed piece in The New York Times condemning the illegal deportation of Haitians and Haitian Dominicans by the Dominican government.

On May 22, 2010, it was announced that Díaz had been selected to sit on the 20-member Pulitzer Prize board of jurors. Díaz described his appointment, and the fact that he is the first of Latin background to be appointed to the panel, as an “extraordinary honor”.

He is currently the honorary chairman of the DREAM Project, a non-profit education involvement program in the Dominican Republic.