Feature: Voices of My Nomadic Roots – Jasdomin Santana

Jenn C and Jasdomin Santana 06/12/2025

When I started Voices of My Nomadic Roots, I hoped to find stories that felt familiar and expansive at the same time, stories that carried culture not just in words, but in how people live and create.

Jasdomin Santana is one of those voices. An author, educator, and proud Dominican mother, she speaks from the in-between space many of us know well: not fully here, not fully there—but deeply rooted. Her words don’t need editing. They already feel like home.

Books that celebrate Dominican culture, family, and identity.

What part of your culture still travels with you–in your work, your daily life, or the way you see the world?

Mi Dominicanismo. Its warmth, resilience, and storytelling travels with me everywhere. It shows up in the way I parent, the way I write, and even the way I show up in corporate spaces. Whether it’s the sayings I heard growing up or the smell of cafecito in the morning, my culture is the lens through which I see and feel everything. It’s never separate. It’s woven into every part of my life and my work.

How has your identity as a Dominican woman–or as the child of immigrants–shaped your path or creativity?

Being born into two worlds became even more real for me after I had kids. Growing up, I always knew I was different. My parents didn’t speak English, so Spanish was my first language. But after years in the American school system, I started to lose it. There were moments when I couldn’t find the right words in either language, and Spanglish became my safe space. That in-between space shaped how I saw the world and how I moved through it.

Being a Dominican woman and first-generation daughter of immigrants has given me two gifts: grit and perspective. I learned early on how to work hard and dream harder. My parents instilled in me a deep love for education. Watching them work so hard with so little, while always reminding me that I was meant for more, taught me resilience. I became an overachiever early on, determined to make their sacrifices count. That mindset carried me through earning three degrees with top honors and eventually into executive leadership at a major bank.

When I became a mother, everything shifted. The urgency to protect and pass down Dominican culture became real. I didn’t want my kids to feel lost between cultures the way I sometimes did. I wanted them to celebrate every part of themselves. Dominican. American. Bilingual. Bold. Rooted. Being raised in that in-between space taught me how to survive, how to hustle, and how to turn struggle into stories filled with pride, purpose, and love.

Your work celebrates Dominican culture and is inspired by your little ones. How has becoming a mother influenced the way you tell stories or connect with your roots?

Motherhood shifted everything. After my first born I struggled with PPD (Postpartum Depression) and things became more intense for me, including how I thought about their upbringing (and mine). Suddenly, I wasn’t just holding onto my culture... I was responsible for passing it on. I wanted my children to feel proud of who they are and where they come from, so I started writing books that made our food, our music, our legends, and even our humor something to celebrate. My kids are my biggest inspiration, and through their eyes, I’ve reconnected more deeply with my own roots.

Culture passed down, one bite of mangú at a time.

What does ‘home’ mean to you?

Home is a feeling, but it’s also something that shows up in real ways. It’s my mom’s voice on the phone, her morir soñando waiting when I visit. It’s the sound of bachata playing low in the background while plátanos sizzle on the stove. It’s when my family drives down from New York just to be together, or when my aunts send queso and dulce straight from the Dominican Republic. Home isn’t just a place. It lives in my routines, in the stories I write, and in the spaces I create for my kids. It’s wherever my culture, my people, and that deep sense of belonging come together.

We often carry parts of our identity that others don’t fully understand. What’s helped you move through that with strength or clarity?

Honestly, embracing the fact that I’m not meant to be understood by everyone. I’ve stopped shrinking myself or editing who I am just to fit into spaces that weren’t built for people like me. I’ve stopped following rules that were designed to keep us in boxes. Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s motherhood, but I made a decision. My kids need to see someone lead with authenticity and intention, even when it’s uncomfortable. That’s where my clarity comes from. I know my voice matters. Representation isn’t a trend. It’s a lifeline for the next generation.

What’s something your younger self wouldn’t believe you accomplished?

This one really hits home. I can’t believe I went on this journey just to connect with my roots, and even more, how it’s grown into what it is now. Fifteen books, music, educational programs, and more. Little me, sitting on the rooftop in the Bronx with a notebook and a head full of stories, would be in awe. Back then, publishing felt like something other people did. Now my books are in homes, classrooms, and libraries, sharing the culture I was once afraid might fade away. That’s what would blow her mind the most. Our stories didn’t disappear. They became something bigger. It heals my inner child to see the stories I once craved finally exist, ready for the next generation to feel seen.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After reading Jasdomin’s answers, I found myself in tears. Not because they were sad–but because they felt so real and familiar. I saw my own story in hers.

People often underestimate how deeply our culture shapes the way we see the world–not just in the challenges, but also in the beauty. Jasdomin represents the part of Dominican culture I’m most proud of: the part that teaches us to dream big and work hard, even when the journey demands more from us than we expected.

She reminds us that being an immigrant or a child of immigrants isn’t just about struggle–it’s also about strength, about making space, and about carrying our roots with pride.

I’m proud of her. She’s building spaces where people can feel that their culture matters–even when they’re far from home.

Jasdomin Santana, Author & Cultural Storyteller

Have someone in mind whose story deserves to be shared? I’d love to hear from you. Send me an email at jenniffer.crowe@yahoo.com and follow @nomadic.jenn for more features like this, and help amplify voices rooted in identity, resilience, and culture.