Cuban kids in south Florida grow up fearing a boogie man, one who is a living, breathing person. There's no way you could be raised in a Cuban household and not hear of Fidel Castro, whose name is usually preceded or followed by a string of expletives. You're taught to hate Castro with all your being.
I grew up in the quintessential blue-collar Cuban exile community of Hialeah, Florida. The industrial Miami suburb was so blue-collar that we had a self-deprecating slogan to describe it: "Hialeah: Agua, Fango y Factoria" (Hialeah: Water, Mud and Factories).
I recall Cuban children openly chanting, "Arriba, abajo, Fidel para el carajo," which translates roughly to something like, "Up and down, Fidel can go f--- himself.