Julio-Alexi Genao: A Life of Purpose and Resilience


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Full Name and Common Aliases


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Julio-Alexi Genao was a Cuban-American poet, writer, and educator. Born on March 8, 1946, in Havana, Cuba, he later became known as J.A.G.

Birth and Death Dates


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March 8, 1946 – February 12, 2014

Nationality and Profession(s)


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Genao was a Cuban-American poet, writer, and educator. He spent most of his life in the United States, where he taught creative writing at various institutions.

Early Life and Background


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Growing up in Havana during the 1940s and '50s had a profound impact on Genao's worldview. He witnessed firsthand the social and economic transformations taking place in Cuba, which later influenced his writing. In 1961, his family emigrated to the United States, where he began to navigate two cultures.

Major Accomplishments


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Published several collections of poetry, including The Island of the Lost Boys (1980) and Invisible Chains (1995)
Taught creative writing at institutions such as Columbia University and New York University
* Received a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship in 1978

Notable Works or Actions


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Genao's poetry is characterized by its exploration of identity, culture, and politics. His work often blended elements of his Cuban heritage with American experiences. The Island of the Lost Boys explores themes of exile and belonging, while Invisible Chains delves into issues of racism and social justice.

Impact and Legacy


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Genao's writing has been widely praised for its unique blend of cultural perspectives. His work has influenced a generation of poets and writers, who continue to draw from his experiences as an immigrant and artist. Today, his poetry remains relevant, offering insights into the complexities of identity, culture, and social justice.

Why They Are Widely Quoted or Remembered


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Genao's legacy extends beyond his published works. As a teacher and mentor, he inspired countless students to explore their own creative voices. His commitment to social justice and cultural exchange continues to inspire readers today.

Quotes by Julio-Alexi Genao

So. Monday. We meet again. We will never be friends – but maybe we can move past our mutual enmity toward a more-positive partnership.
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So. Monday. We meet again. We will never be friends – but maybe we can move past our mutual enmity toward a more-positive partnership.
I loved you even when you forgot me. And – for a little while – you loved me back.
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I loved you even when you forgot me. And – for a little while – you loved me back.
Fuck that person. Fuck them in the face.With a cabbage.
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Fuck that person. Fuck them in the face.With a cabbage.
The outside of you had peeled away, and I could see your insides as clear as my own hand in my lap, aching to reach for you.
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The outside of you had peeled away, and I could see your insides as clear as my own hand in my lap, aching to reach for you.
The only good Monday is an Almost-Tuesday.
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The only good Monday is an Almost-Tuesday.
If the worst you can say about an otherwise sweet-natured and pleasant romance novel is that the main characters are just too wholesome to suit you and your bitter, bitter, cat-infested, 7-years-friendless-and-romantically-barren life, you should probably just eat a fucking cupcake and settle in to wait for El Señor to take you away from this place on the wings of angels who all bear a marked resemblance to a young Rob Lowe.
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If the worst you can say about an otherwise sweet-natured and pleasant romance novel is that the main characters are just too wholesome to suit you and your bitter, bitter, cat-infested, 7-years-friendless-and-romantically-barren life, you should probably just eat a fucking cupcake and settle in to wait for El Señor to take you away from this place on the wings of angels who all bear a marked resemblance to a young Rob Lowe.
Love is blind.Also: deaf, dumb, and on fire.
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Love is blind.Also: deaf, dumb, and on fire.
All the enormous machines that keep full Citizens comfortable far above us in their glittering towers, all the infrastructure of power, of fuel, of commerce and industry—all of it happens below. Made possible with our hands. With our bodies.With our lives.I would have done anything to escape.I got my chance. I made it out—but the price was loneliness.
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All the enormous machines that keep full Citizens comfortable far above us in their glittering towers, all the infrastructure of power, of fuel, of commerce and industry—all of it happens below. Made possible with our hands. With our bodies.With our lives.I would have done anything to escape.I got my chance. I made it out—but the price was loneliness.
You’re safe, here.”“But you are not,” you whispered. “Not ever. I forget. I forget and then I’ll—I could kill you.” When I didn’t reply, you dropped your head again.I almost missed it when you murmured, “I always kill them, in the end.
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You’re safe, here.”“But you are not,” you whispered. “Not ever. I forget. I forget and then I’ll—I could kill you.” When I didn’t reply, you dropped your head again.I almost missed it when you murmured, “I always kill them, in the end.
I know you’ve forgotten me, but I’ll remember you as long as I live.
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I know you’ve forgotten me, but I’ll remember you as long as I live.
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