We sit on the shoulders of great women, whether they came to the New World as slaves, European or Asian emigrants, or indigenous women who were overtaken by an alien culture. I relish in my diversity, my bouillabaise of blood lines, whether the Spanish, Italian, West African, or Taino parts of me. What a legacy! What a stew! We blithely take so many rights for granted: the right to own property; reproductive rights; to walk out of your home without a male escort; to choose to marry the one you love, even marry someone of your own sex; to read; to think and say what you want without censorship from a male member of your family, or any other male for that matter. This is the story of the remarkable Cuban women, some of whom make up my family tree– brave, beautiful, resourceful, intelligent and memorable, each and every one.