by Father Israel Perez
I was born in the municipality of Marianao in Havana, Cuba, in the same year that man first set foot on the moon. My parents were unable to provide me with a Catholic education, since in Cuba, after 1959, all schooling, from kindergarten through university, has been strictly controlled by the communist system.
I was baptized as a child, but I did not receive the other sacraments.
After my father left in 1980 during the Mariel boatlift, abandoning my mother and siblings, I was only 10 years old when I was sent to what were known as “socialist boarding schools.” These were essentially military-style camps, created by the infamous Che Guevara to ensure that Cuban adolescents would “learn” to work for the revolution and thus be formed into the “new communist man.”
The school was more than 50 miles from home, far from the city, without friends or family. We were there from Sunday afternoon until Saturday at noon, leaving us with only 24 hours at home.
There, we worked in the mornings harvesting potatoes, strawberries, sweet potatoes, and plantains, weeding the fields, and digging irrigation trenches.
In the afternoons, we attended classes, and later continued studying at night, far from the warmth of home and family life, and living among individuals who often abused the younger students when we were left alone in the dormitories throughout the night, with no defense other than our own fists.
In that environment, I survived from ages 11 through 15. I have nothing to thank the communist education for.
I had to escape that situation, and at 16, I managed to “buy” my release from the school by presenting a medical excuse, which allowed me to enroll in a pre-university program in the city, reserved mainly for the elite and the children of communist party members. At the same time, I began working to survive, since my mother had been dismissed from all her jobs.
After my father left, our entire family was labeled “counterrevolutionary.”
I worked as a food prep assistant in a restaurant, a kitchen helper, an orderly in a hospital, and at a radio station where I completed a course in sound recording and editing.
However, I was denied certification because I wore a cross on my chest, which was not well-regarded. I also worked as a linotype operator and proofreader in a printing shop in Havana, located just two blocks from the Church of Our Lady of Charity, where at the age of 20, I received first Communion and the sacrament of confirmation. Three years later, I entered the Seminary of San Carlos and San Ambrosio, thanks to the help of a great priest, Msgr. René Ruiz, who helped me discern God’s call to the priesthood.
There I was truly happy, as I discovered my true identity, encountered the beauty of the Church, and had the blessing of studying philosophy and theology in that “old and beloved house,” the same seminary where the Venerable Félix Varela once taught Cubans to think.
I was ordained a deacon in 2000, and a year later, on June 9, I was ordained a priest for the Archdiocese of Havana.
For more than eight years, I was responsible for the youth ministry in the archdiocese, working closely with young people and organizing events such as World Youth Day in Madrid and Rio de Janeiro.
Many things happened, too many to include in this brief account, before, in 2014, I arrived in Brooklyn by personal decision and by God’s providence.
Here, I was welcomed as a brother by the presbyterate of this beloved diocese. I first served as parochial vicar for Most Precious Blood in Bath Beach, and later at the Co-Cathedral of St. Joseph in Prospect Heights.
There, I had the blessing of living through the pandemic and celebrating Masses for television. Amid illness, silence, and isolation, God multiplied His grace through the Eucharist, as thousands gathered before their screens to see a priest at the altar and to hear a word of faith that encouraged them during their confinement.
Later, I was assigned to the parish of Holy Child Jesus–St. Benedict Joseph Labre in Richmond Hill, where I now serve as pastor, accompanying this wonderful community.
I give thanks to God for these 25 years of priesthood and for every person who, through my ministry, has experienced the presence of God in their life.
May Our Lady of Charity continue to guide me to her son, so that I may “do whatever He tells me.”
Father Israel Perez, pastor of Holy Child Jesus-St. Benedict Joseph Labre Parish in Richmond Hill, is celebrating his 25th year as a priest.