About The Brand Phoenix, Inc. for Museums

My Story

I grew up in South Brooklyn, with Puerto Rican roots that kept me connected to Quebradillas, Puerto Rico, where my mother is from and much of my family still lives. Weekends often meant visits to Spanish Harlem, where the smell of pan criollo filled the air, cars blasted early hip-hop, and salsa chimed.

I remember my grandfather staring out the window with his yellow canaries, and my grandmother cooking arroz con gandules. Her picture frame of Jesus with a crown of thorns—rendered in hologram—enchanted me as a child (he kept opening and closing his eyes) My father never went to Vietnam because he was the only son, but he still had to fight his own war against an economy that never kept wages in step with the cost of living. At times, his parents could only afford ketchup and rice, but even that gave him enough strength and grit to keep pushing forward.

As a boy, he sang doo-wop in the halls of his housing projects and in the tunnels of Harlem. He was teased for his full lips and curly hair, but his sister Ines made sure no one messed with him for long. He collected comic books, worked as a chef, and later became a jeweler. That’s how he met my mother, whose own father had been a jeweler in Puerto Rico before she left in the 1970s to pursue freedom and dance in New York City.

New York was not the safest landing, but my parents built their life in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn. My father eventually saved enough to buy a house on Neptune Avenue, which he lovingly refurbished. He set up his jewelry shop in the basement and blasted his 8-tracks while he worked. My sister and I grew up rummaging through his collections of records, comics, and other treasures. Dad could draw, sing, and build a house with his own two hands. My mom, meanwhile, was the neighborhood advocate—a Parent Coordinator at Family Head Start—helping children, including many undocumented, find their footing in education. She guided women toward jobs and supported teachers finding their path. To this day, she still has a deep love for jewelry and fashion.

At 76, my father holds a wealth of knowledge about coins, art, poetry, and vintage collectibles. He has a gift for spotting hidden value in everyday objects, knowing whether something is worth a fortune or just a bucket of change.

As for me, I gravitated toward fashion and music as a teenager, which eventually opened doors to careers in marketing, publicity, set design, and fashion styling. Over time, I came to understand that I was always a storyteller, no matter the medium. I began to see how social justice and artistic expression collided, inspiring me to walk with purpose—even when the work was joyful.

I’ve had extraordinary experiences along the way: meeting Maya Angelou, holding Dolly Parton’s hand on a red carpet, and visiting dozens upon dozens of museums. My life and career continue to be experimental. When I dedicate myself to something, I want to see how far I can take it.

That drive led me into the museum world—first in small ways, then more notably as a volunteer advisory board member for the emerging 501(c)(3) International Salsa Museum. What started as passion has grown into persistence. On this website, I share a case study of that journey.

Tell me—do you think I should continue to pursue museology?