In our community, we often talk about the importance of representation.
It matters, as we say. So, what happens when you have multiple communities to represent? Just follow the lead of out and proud Caridad Moro-Gronlier, the Poet Laureate of Miami-Dade County. She’s an award-winning Cuban-American lesbian poet/educator/ activist, and mother. She’s also one of the kindest, and funniest, people you are likely to meet in South Florida, or anywhere else for that matter. Moro-Gronlier is part of two presentations at the Miami Book Fair. The first is Poetry City on Nov. 20, at 6 p.m. in the MDC Live Arts Lab (bldg. 1, 1st floor). The second is the Generation 305 Panel on Nov. 22, at 11 a.m. in room 8303 (bldg. 8, 3rd floor).
Caridad, when did you begin writing poetry in earnest, and how soon after that was your first poem (or were your first poems) published?
I've always written poetry, but I began to send out work for publication in 2005 after a series of poetry workshops I enrolled in through The Writer's Institute at Miami Dade College, Wolfson Campus.
Do you remember how being published for the first time made you feel?
I felt elated. As a lifelong reader and library devotee, I was thrilled. I also felt vindicated. As a first-generation immigrant, the studies I was encouraged to pursue did not include creative writing, so I got the practical degree and continued to write on the side. That first publication was the confirmation I needed, and I haven't stopped writing or chasing new opportunities for publication since.
In addition to poetry, do you also write prose – fiction or creative nonfiction?
I do! I'm currently working on a memoir. My poetry often draws from personal experience and tends to be narrative, so moving into non-fiction has felt like a natural step. Ironically, I read more fiction than any other genre (even poetry!), yet I haven't tried writing fiction myself, at least not yet. It's definitely on my creative to-do list.
Your family appears in your work, which made me wonder what your parents thought about their daughter wanting to be a writer?
I come from a family of poetry lovers. My father can still recite the Federico García Lorca poems he learned by heart in school in Havana, and my mother taught me to memorize and perform poetry when I was a very young girl. They are deeply proud of my literary accomplishments. The publication of my work offers a kind of permanence – something they were denied when they fled Cuba, their homeland. They never could have imagined this future for me, which makes their pride all the more profound.
How do your family members feel about how they are represented in your work?
That can get tricky at times, since I often write about my family – but always from my own perspective. Despite their pride and support, I’ve had to field a few phone calls over the years asking me to explain, clarify, or even dispute certain depictions in my work. I don’t mind those conversations, though; they give me the chance to engage in dialogue about my writing. More often than not, the “offended” party comes to understand that a poem isn’t a lie-detector test or sworn testimony, but rather my interpretation, or the speaker’s version, of the truth. And if that doesn’t work, I invite them to write their own poem in response, though no one has taken me up on that offer, yet.
As a queer writer, has your work always included that aspect of your identity?
Yes, absolutely. My publication history runs parallel to my coming out. While queerness isn’t the subject of every one of my poems, the fact that I am a lesbian poet is always part of the equation – it informs the voice, perspective, and sense of self that shape my work.
When I was preparing to move from Chicago to South Florida in 2013, my poet friends in Chicago, as well as New York, DC, and Boston, kept asking how I could give up living in a city with such a vibrant literary scene to move to a place they believed had none. Of course, you and I know differently. As someone who has lived in the region for many years, how would you say the poetry world has evolved over time?
Over the past two decades, I’ve watched the Miami poetry scene transform into something far more expansive and inclusive than it once was. What used to be a handful of readings tucked away in coffee shops or university classrooms has blossomed into a citywide celebration of language and identity. Festivals like O, Miami have brought poetry into public spaces—onto buses, billboards, and beaches — making it something everyone can stumble upon and claim as their own. At the same time, organizations such as SWWIM (Supporting Women Writers In Miami) have created essential platforms for women and nonbinary writers to share their work and be part of a vibrant, supportive community. The voices, too, have multiplied: queer poets, immigrant poets, multilingual poets, all finding room to speak and be heard. There’s an openness now, a sense that poetry belongs not only to the page but to the city itself, to its people and their many versions of home.
How personally involved have you been in the evolution?
I've been deeply involved in Miami's poetry community for many years, not just as a poet but as an organizer, mentor, and advocate. Watching the scene grow has been both inspiring and humbling. Through my work with SWWIM (shout out to my SWWIMSTERS, Jen Karetnick and Catherine Esposito Prescott, who founded the organization), I've helped create spaces where women and nonbinary writers can find support and amplify their voices, something that felt urgently needed when I first came into the scene. I've also been committed to nurturing younger poets – especially those from immigrant and queer communities – helping them navigate the challenges of writing honestly about identity and family in a city as complex as Miami. This evolution isn't just something I've observed from the sidelines, rather, it's been a labor of love, a collective effort, a community calling, and I'm proud to have played a role in shaping the poetry landscape that welcomes so many diverse poets today.
What can you tell the readers about your role as The Betsy’s Writer’s Room Poetry-Curator-At- Large?
As Poetry Curator-At-Large at The Betsy Hotel, I am fortunate to help shape Miami's literary landscape by curating programs that highlight the city's rich diversity and creativity. I collaborate with poets, both local and national, to bring projects to the Writer's Room and the Escribe Aqui/Write Here festival to life so that writers can explore culture, identity, and community. This role lets me blend my love of poetry with my commitment to community, making poetry a living accessible part of our city's culture.
It’s been more than a year since your appointment as Poet Laureate of Miami-Dade County, the second in the county’s history. What does this honor mean to you?
Being named the Poet Laureate of Miami-Dade County is one of the greatest honors of my life and a deeply meaningful validation of my work as a poet over the past twenty years. Miami has shaped every part of who I am as a writer, a teacher, and a person; its rhythms, its resilience, and its contradictions all find their way into my work. To be recognized by this community, and to represent it through poetry, feels like a full-circle moment. It’s also a reminder that poetry belongs to everyone – that our stories, no matter the language or form, have power and value. As Poet Laureate, my hope is to continue creating spaces where those stories can be heard, shared, and celebrated across our county.
What is involved in being the Poet Laureate of Miami-Dade County?
Being the Poet Laureate of Miami-Dade County means serving as an advocate for poetry in all its forms. It's about finding ways to bring poetry into the everyday lives of our residents – into classrooms, libraries, parks, senior centers, and neighborhoods that may not have regular access to the arts. I see the role as one of connection; bridging communities through language and encouraging people to see poetry as something that belongs to them, not something distant or academic. At its heart, being Poet Laureate means using poetry to nurture empathy, creativity, and pride in the Magic City.
In November 2025, you will be one of the featured writers at the Miami Book Fair. What can you tell the readers about what you’re going to be doing during the MBF?
I'm so excited to be unveiling Generation 305, my official Miami-Dade County Poet Laureate project at this year's Miami Book Fair. The event takes place on Saturday, November 22, at 11:00 am in Building 8 at Miami Dade College, Wolfson Campus, and it's the first time that poems created especially for the project will be shared publicly. Generation 305 brings together poets and seniors from across the county to create poems that celebrate intergenerational connection, and the stories that have built Miami and shaped who we are today. During the event, selected readers will share their own Generation 305 poems inspired by relationships between generations – whether that be family, friends, or community. It's really about honoring the people who shape us and keeping their stories, their legacies, alive through poetry.
Of course, the question on everyone’s mind is, have you started working on or completed the follow-up to your award-winning 2021 book “Tortillera”?
I am thrilled to report that my forthcoming chapbook, “Through the Lens--Ekphrastic Poems,” will be launched in March of 2026 by my beloved publishing house, Texas Review Press. Additionally, my second full-length book of poems, “As To Your Comment,” will be published by Texas Review Press in the Spring of 2027. I can't wait to share it with you all.

