Fascinating Story Number 2: Latin@s, Librotraficantes, and [Literally] the Ongoing Struggle to Make Fascinating Latin@ Stories
Arizona keeps hitting us with their racist heart. On January 2012, the Tucson Unified School District were ordered to end their Mexican American Studies program (MAS) and if they didn’t, state funding would be withheld. The MAS program, which improved the retention and college going rates among their students, was deemed to “promote ethnic resentment” against Whites. Subsequently, Sean Arce, MAS’s director, was fired despite having won awards for being an outstanding educator. As any movement demonstrates, Sean Arce was just one of the fascinating Latin@ stories to emerge from this oppressive climate.
Meet Tony Diaz, self-proclaimed “book trafficker” otherwise known as El Librotraficante. Book trafficking is one response to banning books in TUSD, inciting new grammar for Civil Rights and a new revolutionary movement. According to the UK Guardian: “the group has been caravanning throughout the south-west holding readings, setting up book clubs, establishing ‘underground libraries’ and dispensing donated copies of the books that have been removed from Arizona’s public school curriculum.” Luckily, book trafficking spread outside of the Southwest, venturing out to the Northeast via several venues such as CBO’s, colleges and universities, and a little Latin@ Book Store in East Harlem, NY called La Casa Azul Bookstore.
While Arizona was in the business of banning books, a bookstore opened – dedicated to providing a space for Latin@ authors to flourish and inspire future Latin@ to see themselves as authors of “fascinating Latin@ stories”. Founded by Aurora Anaya-Cerda, La Casa Azul is not just a bookstore – it is also becoming a hub for Latin@ literati and a site of protest. On September 21, 2012, La Casa Azul Book Store was one of the sites that held a “50 for Freedom of Speech” event hosted by Charlie Vázquez and Rich Villar. Indeed, while this itself is a fascinating story, people like Sean Arce, Tony Diaz and places like La Casa Azul Bookstore protect the right to create truly fascinating Latin@ stories. Salute.
Fascinating Story Number 3: Living in Two Worlds – What Jenni Rivera’s Death Revealed About the Fascinating Story of Latin@ Reality in the US.
Jenni Rivera, Latina Banda super star, star of Bilingual Reality TV show “I Love Jenni”, actress and business woman and Long Beach, California native died on Sunday, December 9, 2012 in a plane crash that left her fans stunned and wondering why did another Latina role model have to die such a horrible death? Her death was also the first time many Americans learned about La Diva, a story that highlights the cultural segregation that exists in the US as it pertains to Latin@s. Among those who observed this cultural divide in the media, fiercely pronounced by Rivera’s death, included Gustavo Arellano who called the LA Times “the biggest sinner” for completely ignoring any story on La Diva until her untimely death. This was not missed by many a Latin@ media pundit: Jorge Ramos tweeted the following: “La cobertura de TV en español x la muerte del Macho Camacho y Jenni Rivera no la entienden los medios en ingles…por eso caen sus ratings”.
The story of the two “parallel worlds” that Latin@s seem to live in, the cultural segregation that resides within the US, is just ONE REASON why magazines like Latina are so important: while it may not be in Latina magazine’s mission to provide accurate depictions of Latin@ life, they only seemed to cover entertainers like Jenni Rivera when there is gossip, both good and bad. Among the important pieces of gossip on which only Latina magazine seemed to pick up was the upcoming sitcom that Jenni Rivera was scheduled to star in – one reflecting her realities as a single mom working and fighting for her children’s socio-economic success.
The significance of her death, when understood in this way, merited an important reflection for media pundits, but most specifically magazines like Latina. Instead, this fascinating story, that provides an insight into how Latin@s are represented, was trumped by murderers like George Zimmerman who only recently found out he was Latin@ when accused of racism in the death of Trayvon Martin. Perhaps Gustavo Arellano should have included Latina magazine among the sinners for not just ignoring the lives of Latin@s completely (as he has acused the LA Times of doing) – but for also promoting the wrong kind of attention for the sake of a sale, a retweet, and a Facebook like.
Latinos now comprise of over 16% of the US population and there is nothing to suggest that this will decline anytime soon. While this growth in population of a minoritized group captured the attention of media, another story that emerged concurrently was the political power of the Latin@ population. Not coincidentally, this took more steam during election time. Everyone, from media pundits, to consulting groups in advertising and media tried to “figure us out” – our most “pressing” issues and what mattered to our people. But, this was not the only reason why this was a missed opportunity for Latina magazine to highlight. Three reasons: Rosie Perez, the Castro Brothers, and DREAM’ers.
Rosie Perez – The Latin@ Vote took an interesting turn when Mitt Romney showed his true colors regarding his thoughts on Latin@s. After Mitt Romney campaigned with his own “fascinating Latin@ story” – that of having a pseudo Mexican heritage and using his children, who speak Spanish, to campaign for him – Romney was caught saying that winning the election would probably be easier for him if he was Latin@ (contradicting his own claims of a Latino heritage). While this created an uproar among many, the most memorable person to emerge from that mess was Rosie Perez. Using a sarcastic tone, she highlighted the differences between the “privileges” of being Latin@ versus being a white man. Her response was short and sweet and to the point and can be heard here.
The Castro Brothers – During the Democratic National Convention (DNC), we saw President Obama’s camp try to play defense with the Latin@ community. The Obama presidency has seen the most deportations in our nation’s history which has caused many Latin@ voters to wonder if any of the candidates would work for the advancement of the Latin@ community. The Obama campaign pulled many defensive moves, two of them being the Castro Twins, Mayor Julian Castro and his twin brother, now Representative Joaquin Castro. A political powerhouse, these two Latino politicians were given a national platform when they both were given the spotlight during the Democratic National Convention. Julian Castro, in particular, gave the keynote speech as did President Obama in 2004. Some saw this as a political maneuver to keep Latin@s happy while many others were enthralled with hearing familiar phrases like “Que Dios te bendiga” and were provided with a some laughs when cameras shined on Castro’s daughter, Carina Victoria. While some were, and continue to be, skeptical about the positioning of the twin Latin@ politicians, their history, one that includes a mother who fought for Mexican American civil rights is an interesting one because it also highlights the complexities of Latin@ lives, one that provides just one story from the Latin@ experience, and in danger of setting a narrative for Latino exceptionalism – that of the Super Latino who can make it despite all the odds. This story has yet to unfold – but will be an interesting one to watch in the coming years.
DREAMers – El Voto Latin@ also increased national discussions on the impact of Arizona’s racist laws (SB1070, banning of Mexican American Studies in Tucson Unified School District (TUSD) and detainment and deportation of undocumented immigrants through programs like Secure Communities. But nothing marked el Voto Latin@ the way the DREAM’ers and their allies did. Remember the DREAMers? The DREAMers are young undocumented immigrants who marched, (reminiscent of the Freedom Rides), across the country to protest the deportation of young undocumented immigrants who have lived here most of their lives in the US and seek to pursue higher education. They, along with Latin@ advocacy groups such as Presente.org and the NYSLC (to name just two) contributed to the movement of not only trying to bring an end to mass deportations of undocumented immigrants but also by inspiring underground educational activity such as Freedom University, a higher education institution dedicated to providing undocumented immigrants with a college education.
The DREAMers and allies have achieved a monumental breakthrough when President Obama announced the halting of deportations of DREAM Act eligible students on Friday, June 15, 2012. DREAMers made such an impact on our national imagination of the immigrant experience that many called for their nomination for TIME magazine’s Person Of the Year. Despite all these milestones in the movement, there are still many things to keep working toward as we think about undocumented immigrants in the US. The DREAMers and their allies, provide us with the opportunity to disrupt the narrative of exceptionalism in the Latin@ community. In other words, the movement reminds us that no one Latin@ Super S/Hero is Enough – it takes all of us, collectively, to make changes in our society. Thus, making clear that El Voto Latin@ is nothing to be messed with, reminding us that we are strong as a whole community. This fascinating story will only continue to unfold — perhaps even by sending a Latin@ candidate to the Presidency one day. Or changing the way we think about the voting process altogether.
I write this on the third day of Kwanzaa, in the spirit of Ujima – that of collective responsibility or the understanding that everyone plays a role in the building of their communities. I write this in response to Latina magazine’s “The Six Most Fascinating Latin@ Stories of the Year” in which George Zimmerman, Trayvon Martin’s murderer, is highlighted as second most fascinating story after Victoria Soto, a teacher who was killed after protecting and saving the lives of all her students in the Newtown, CT massacre. I write this in the spirit of playing a role in the advancement of magazines such as Latina, one of the few magazines that centers on Latin@ audiences. I write in the spirit of love for my people with the hopes that it will in some way influence how we use our social media outlets, perhaps more responsibly, in order to use our few magazines not just to advance the Latin@ community, but to educate those who are not Latin@ about who we are as a community.
That being said, I should recognize that this may not be the aim of Latina magazine. Thus, this piece is not written just as a social commentary or critique, but I will also provide my own list of “fascinating Latin@ stories” for 2012. For the next couple of days, I will post different stories, themes that have come up in the media. I may miss a few. But I expect you, readers in the community, to help this list for future years to come.
Before providing my list, the first issue to address is conceptualizing the idea of a “fascinating Latin@ story”. What does this mean? What criteria should be employed? Did Latina magazine accomplish their goal of providing a fascinating Latin@ story?
Latina magazine chose to represent a fascinating Latin@ story by using people who either self identify as Latin@ or Latin American or has been identified by the public in such a way. They describe these individuals without really describing why they provide fascinating Latin@ stories. In so doing, Latina magazine creates the illusion that the individuals highlighted for this piece are “fascinating Latin@ people”. This is highly problematic. If the sole criterion for having a fascinating Latin@ story is only to self identify or be identified as Latin@, then should George Zimmerman, who it seems, only recently became Latin@, be on that list? And what of Dania Londono Suarez, Colombian escort to the Secret Service, highlighted as Latina magazine’s third story? Is the story fascinating just because she is Colombian? While I embrace this hermana as Latin American or Latina, I have to ask what is the fascinating story about her? Indeed, if Latina magazine is going to use these individuals to sell their magazine, then I am requesting that Latina magazine treat their audience with more respect: We enjoy a good story. If you are going to tell me that you are going to write me a fascinating story, then, I expect you to write a fascinating story. We are smart enough to handle it. We don’t need you to throw us some words in Spanish or for you to write some sensationalized story about sensationalized people in order for us to read. You caught the wrong kind of attention, Latina magazine, and many are fed up with the superficial ways in which you treat your readers.
The second issue to address is the use of social media as platforms for representations of the Latin@ community. There are few platforms that are dedicated to the Latin@ community. Latina, specifically, is a fifteen year old media outlet that, whether positively or negatively, has some readership in the Latin@ community. The lack of rigorous discussions that affect Latin@ communities are demonstrated in the ways Latin@s are constantly being overlooked as researchers, commentators, scholars, writers, and even owners of our own experiences and social realities. We are not looked upon as Latin@ intellectuals capable of sitting next to other brilliant scholars when discussing politics, education, or other parts of society. While this is part of the mainstream imagination, I also place some responsibility for this lack of visible Latino intellectuals on our own media outlets – Latina magazine, specifically, with its longevity, for not providing a more comprehensive picture of who Latin@s are; we are not just entertainers and athletes. We don’t just sing and dance. We also teach, write, analyze, make sense of policies, and this is just to name a few things.
Thus, we must occupy this void. Yes, I am looking at you — you wonderful, amazing, brilliant Latina/o scholars/ activists/writers/journalists/dancers/fashionistas/educators/etc. — we must be at those discussion tables, board rooms, policy decision making meetings, and even magazines like Latina. We cannot be satisfied with just being on the menu. We can no longer just sit while we hear others talk about us and make decisions on our behalves. Latina magazine could be an interesting platform for issues that affect our community. Their foci on entertainment and fashion are fine – but why just remain there? In other words, there are very interesting and fascinating stories that could be written out of areas of entertainment and fashion – some I have highlighted in my own examples. A fascinating Latin@ story cannot just have only one criterion – that of highlighting Latin@ people just because they are Latin@s, as Latina’s Top Six Stories demonstrate. Delving deeper, getting insights from thorough and thoughtful Latin@ writers to contribute to Latina magazine could prove to be a fruitful one – as the case with Ebony magazine demonstrates.
Latin@s have stories, yes, even the monstrous ones, that help us understand the fabric of our Latin@ lives and social realities – our past, our present, and our future. For the sake of our communities and our relationships with allies, we must be more responsible with what we publicly describe as representations of our people. Although I have no official affiliation with Latina magazine, in order for me to truly live in the spirit of Ujima, I must represent Latina magazine as much as Latina magazine represents me. In that spirit, I write these short essays, to provide a strong counternarrative to the poor taste and judgment that Latina magazine employed in their magazine. It is my hope that these conversations continue to not just improve magazines like Latina – but can also be a strong call for the advancement of our people and our community.
The following is a list of the summaries I will post over the next several days. I invite you to share my world, contribute your own stories, or even disagree with the few I highlight.
Attributing Angry Black Man status to an irreverent and emotional Joe Biden is dangerous. At the end of the debate, I read many posts on Vice President Biden’s ability to act out the Angry Black Man – suggesting that it is a role that our President could not easily play and one that President Obama should play. This requires serious racial analysis since the Angry Black Man ideology is one of the many ideologies that supports and maintains White Supremacy and White Supremacist values. Let me take the time to briefly explain.
Why is calling Emotional Joe Biden an Angry Black Man dangerous? First, it puts an unnecessary expectation on our President. When have we ever seen President Obama become unhinged, emotional, or angry? It’s unfortunate that we WANT to see President Obama become angry, like he is supposed to BE angry. I think I can count the number of times on one hand when we have seen our President be a little “off” including his debate with Romney. Why is anger an expected emotion for a Black President to possess when he never exhibited this trait during his Presidency? In fact, many have enjoyed his cool passion and swag.
Secondly, by focusing on the Angry Black Man that President Obama isn’t, we ignore who Joe Biden has been and continues to be – a Vice President who comes out of pocket on many occasions. In fact, many of us EXPECTED to see this side of him come out tonight and why many of us made sure to watch the Vice Presidential debate. I have heard in the past week “Can’t wait to see what Crazy Joe is going to do!” and other phrases like this. Interestingly, even though Joe Biden was expected to play Crazy Uncle Joe, media pundits acted surprised that Joe Biden exhibited this behavior – even though he has been this way all along. Why are they surprised? Even Saturday Night Live makes fun of Joe Biden’s behavior. Did they think he was going to be different tonight? But I digress. Yes, Biden’s White Privilege allows him the ability to express the way he wants without getting maligned too much for it – but this doesn’t mean that this side is the Angry Black Man side. Biden isn’t Black the way Clinton isn’t Black. We continue to call Clinton our First Black President because of some characteristics he demonstrated in public, despite policies he implemented that perpetuated the disenfranchisement of People of Color. This breaks down Black people and People of Color to a set of characteristics rather than whole human beings.
Finally, by reinforcing that Emotional Joe Biden is able to be an Angry Black man, are we saying that President Obama was originally supposed to be an Angry Black Man? To say that Biden could be the Angry Black Man that Obama cannot be, means that we as People of Color also believe that inherently, we are angry people of color. Now, don’t mistake my analysis for a misunderstanding of White Privilege and how it operates. Having been called an Angry Hispanic Woman on several occasions, I am fully aware of how expressing my emotions is not only unacceptable but damn near dangerous sometimes. But I don’t think I was born to be an “angry Latina” – in the same way that I don’t think our President or other Black men were born into the role of angry black men. We experience dignified rage, we fight against social injustice, and we get the diminished “Angry Person of Color” status. I am not just angry and I am not just an emotion – I am a race worker, someone who fights toward racial justice, someone who employs her anger to move this work. To believe and uphold Angry Black Man ideology is to uphold one of the several ideologies that sustain White Supremacy and White Supremacist values. Can we imagine our Black President to be angry? Of course! We all can be angry! But to attribute Angry Black Man status to an emotional and irreverent Joe Biden contributes to the dehumanization of People of Color and in particular Black people.
White Supremacy is not just the belief that white people are superior. Racist beliefs undergirds the practices and policies that create and maintain a system of White Privileges. One of these privileges is the ability to express emotion without getting penalized in employment, education, and other important social capital. Angry Black Man status is an ideology, a misconception of Black people specifically and People of Color generally, that is not only maintained by white people but also by People of Color when we start calling emotional white people Angry Black Men. If we want to begin the process of dismantling White supremacy, we as People of Color must understand origins of Angry Black Man ideology – understand that this is a racist misconception – a cultural deficit attributed to People of Color and emotional white people – and reframe what Angry Black Man really is – white folks’ imagination gone wild, fearing the worst in Black men and people of color. And we, People of Color have internalized this – a sign of internalized oppression.
As People of Color we must critically analyze how these ideologies maintain oppressive systems in order for us to begin the road toward racial justice. Let’s begin by questioning why we call emotional white people Angry Black Men.
You lived about 10 blocks away from a college your whole life. In that time, you’ve seen the ways in which the neighborhood has changed as if to fit the expectations of the college. But as hard as this college tries, they can’t get to everyone, some pockets of the neighborhood remain the same.
So you go to those pockets to remind yourself of where you came from and the reason why you wanted to go to that college in the first place. You go to those pockets because engaging in the life of the mind reminds you of how you could have been involved in the life of the streets. The ivory tower calls it “being a statistic”. You call it home.
Those streets that you call home and are simultaneously warned to not become them. Those streets that protected you while catcalling and whistling and hollering at you at the same time, reminding you that you are a female and that means you belong to them.
Them.
“Chula, ven aqui”
“Que Dios te bendiga, mami”
“Pero tu si eres mala, bembona”
Them. Show and prove means something entirely different for women. Show and prove means that you can be that cute girl while at the same time smacking gum with the message that you have the potential to smack someone too should they lay a hand on you.
Them. Those eyes that linger on you as if you are supposed to linger back, as if that should be enough to make you go to them and respond back, Hey chulo.
Their eyes linger on you, whether you think YOU are cute or not.
You know this, this street harassment is a daily experience in the city. So, in the morning it takes you double the time to get dressed. You want to wear something comfortable but nothing too revealing. You want to wear something that makes you feel good but that doesn’t attract too much attention.
You wear a long dress that covers your legs. It clings to your body so you throw over a purse that covers your back so that when the street harassers linger, they only linger on your purse. Not your behind.
Your head held high, your gum fresh, your elbows swinging with your keys or another potential weapon between your fingers — you are ready. You go out because someone told you that these streets could eat you alive. But you’re not about to let that keep you from enjoying your home and walking outside on a beautiful day. You are ready for battle and love. Those are the streets of Harlem undergoing change.
So you walk. The further uptown you go, the signs that you are leaving New Harlem is more real. New Harlem means you overhear conversations about the news or academic thoughts, ivory tower conversations, mostly in English. Walking uptown you hear the news. In Spanish.
You walk a little further and you walk past a huddle of young men, desperate to show and prove. As you walk past, you realize you interrupt their own version of street harassment. That one Asian young man in the huddle of Dominican men who gets slightly taunted enough for him to have a great comeback. The retort that makes you root for the underdog. You hear the retort, and you mistakenly smile. They catch your smile and give the young Asian man pounds.
But you wonder if they will resume to their taunts.
You keep walking further and you hear music that blares from cars, outside bodegas, and homes. Ranging from bachata, to merengue, to reggaeton. You feel very Latina – you know this neighborhood, these are your people. But you remember not to smile.
This time, you don’t make that mistake.
This is New York, you think. Fruit stands are outside because the bodegas sell outdated food sometimes. Mothers and children are struggling with each other to get home, neighbors see you and you stop. “Hey sweetie, haven’t see you in days, where you been?” they ask.
You love those impromptu conversations. You hear about the building you live in, any changes in the neighborhood. This particular neighbor has lived here for over 40 years. They can tell you about the changes, too.
You keep walking up and you run into the bodeguero that knows your father. “Please say hello on our family’s behalf!” Gracias, you respond back. You can’t help but feel proud that your family has built a solid legacy in this pocket of the neighborhood.
This is home, you think. The ivory tower can’t change me all that much. Your heart is warm and you smile again.
“Hey ma! Take my number…”
You come back to reality. You purse your lips, make sure not to smile and keep walking ahead. You see scaffolds ahead and make sure to walk around them. If you can’t avoid them, you make sure to be extra alert. Scaffolds mean more opportunities for lingering.
You are at home. But you are also an analyst. A race love analyst. Because you love your streets. You love your home. You work to improve the conditions of your people. And you know you get love back, too.
You count how many blocks you got before you reach your apartment.
“A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.” — Maya Angelou
“Why is everyone so excited to go away, except for me?”
I don’t know why some of your friends may be so excited. I didn’t understand either when I was going away to school. But I do understand why you may not feel as thrilled as your friends may seem. We come from a very close-knit family. Many Latinos/as do. We grow up really appreciating bonds of the nuclear family. For immigrant families, sometimes we are even more closely knit often because our extended family members still live in their countries of origin. Thus, we rely on each other greatly for social activity and economic necessity.
So your excitement to go to college may just be crowded out by your love for your family. I can assure you that you are not alone on this… I felt this way too. Leaving my family to go off to college was one of the toughest things I had to do. But, you have the ability to be both excited and sad to miss your family. When those moments of excitement creep up, please share that with your family too. We often think that expressing our happiness to leave for college is wrong. But it is perfectly natural to be excited one minute and be sad the next.
I think I was less excited about going away to college because I genuinely had no idea what college or being away from home was going to be like. I didn’t know many people who attended and the ones I did know, I didn’t really know what kind of questions to ask. Also, because I knew I was going to miss my family, I stayed close to them as much as possible until it was absolutely time to part. Our family members tried to advise me. That last week before I went off to college was full of family visits and questions I could not answer. Since I was the first to go to college in our family, we were all new to this experience. I heard many warnings of “Be careful” and “Don’t worry — God will protect you”.
As loving as that was, I felt like I needed more. It’s evident to me that you need more too, more answers and more of an idea of what you are about to face. I don’t know what your experience will be like. That is for you to shape. But, I can tell you that we share an identity in common that could influence your experience: we are first generation Latina college students. Before going away, I had no knoweldge of those terms or what they meant together — “Latina” “first generation college” “freshman/freshwoman”. These terms mean that we share a common experience, not exactly the same, but certain things like not being excited about going away is one of them. I know this now. Back then, I started off being me, identified with “those terms” and then I settled into that identity. I write to you from this perspective. I probably will always write from this perspective.
“Did you find your passion in college?”
I think college both helped reveal what I was always passionate about and help nurture new ones. For example, I have always had an interest in race and continue this passion in my doctoral work today. Another passion that I was surprised to discover was my love for Latino culture. Choosing courses that shed light on Latino culture encouraged me to continue to fight for other Latino students to be exposed to similar work. This helped bring my grades up, boosted my confidence, and helped me begin a vocabulary that identified the issues Latino college students faced. I also always had an interest in dance. The opportunity to learn came randomly. My friend, a Black woman, became captain of the cheerleading team. When that happened, the white women all resigned and she was left without a team. She needed her friends then and without hesitation, we joined. This experience has influenced me in many ways – both politically and personally. I’ve been dancing and talking more about race and racism ever since.
“Everyone already seems like they are ahead, like they already know what they want – they worked in their families’ businesses, companies, restaurants over the summer. I feel left behind”
I went to school with people whose grandparents’ names were on buildings. The dorms I slept in, the hallways I walked through, the bench outside my professors’ offices, books that we read — at some point I met people who were closely affiliated to those names I’ve crossed mulitple times to get to class or to go to sleep. In many ways, I felt left behind too. They all seemed to know the popular music, faculty on campus, have worked in internships already and know what they wanted to do. They even knew how to discuss how ironic the word ironic is (true story). I was too focused on what I thought they had and not enough on what contributions I can make. I felt behind because I didn’t reinforce and expand what I already knew. Here are some examples:
1. Family Cultural Wealth – I learned this phrase as a graduate student when I read the book “Over the Ivy Walls: The Educational Mobility of Low-Income Chicanos” by Patricia Gandara. In it she describes the role that recounting family history played in the lives of Mexican-Americans who achieved doctorates. Your grandmother, my Tia Mercedes valued education so much, she was willing to send her children (your mother) away to school so that they received a better education. She used to get criticized for this. But Tia Mercedes was adamant that her daughters receive a formal education. Like my dad, your grandmother only attended up to the second grade. See your grandmother could have easily asked your mom and her sisters to help with the farm. She didn’t. She wanted a different life for her daughters and eventually her grandchildren (you). Family cultural wealth. We value education in our family. Don’t let anyone ever tell you that Latinos don’t value education.
2. “Don’t forget to speak Spanish”. — Indeed, this was one of the most valuable lessons my mother, gave me before she and my dad left me on campus. My mother’s initial fear for me going away was that I wouldn’t have anyone taking care of me. What will she eat, she thought? Where will she wash her clothes? When she came to campus on that first day I could tell she was terrified. My father verbalized some of what she was thinking “Who can I talk to in Spanish when my daughter is in trouble?” It was heartbreaking. I didn’t have any answers for them. So before she left, my mother said, “Don’t forget to speak Spanish.” I had no idea the significance then. But I understand now the importance of her statement. It is our link to our family. Our connection to our past. Historically, in the US, Latinos were banned from speaking Spanish in schools. Speaking Spanish, reinforcing it, getting better at it, was therefore a revolutionary act, cloaked in love. I will always thank my mother for that reminder.
3. Read about our history — I fell in love with the Young Lords, the Brown Berets, and the Black Panthers. I fell in love with Junot Diaz, Sandra Cisneros, Edwidge Danticat, Pedro Pietri, Toni Morrison, Gloria Anzaldua, and Sor Juana Ines De La Cruz. I fell in love with Frida Kahlo, Diego Rivera, Guayasmin, and Eduardo Kingman. They increased my Latino cultural wealth. They restored my Latina soul. They gave me an Ecuadorian direction. And I’ve been inspired ever since.
In other words, forget who is behind and who is ahead. Take note of where you are. Step by step. Moment by moment. What can you learn in that moment? Who can you talk to if you need that internship? Where can you go if you are looking for guidance? Get answers to those questions and start working on you.
Finally, I have some last words of advice:
Take pictures of your surroundings. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Pictures and literature are your best defense.
Sit at the front of the classroom. I would sit in the back and become distracted by what I saw. A sea of white kids. One Black student. One Latina student (me). Observations like these are good if you’re a researcher. But since you are there to study, and if you don’t want to be distracted by what you will inevitably witness outside of the classroom, sit in the front. On the occasion that you do want to observe what is happening in a classroom and all its race and class dynamics, go to a class on your free time and sit in the back.
When you hear a comment that you are not sure is racist or not, and you have the urge to say something, try putting it back on them by asking them questions. Things like “How so?” And “What evidence do you have for your statement?” are ways to make those people have to explain their negative comment. And you don’t have to sit there and try to figure out what they *actually* meant.
Be respectful to administrative personnel, maintenance staff, and cafeteria employees. Always say good morning, good afternoon, or evening. When you ask them how are you doing, wait for a response. I always think that they could have been my dad and hoped that someone would be kind to him. Secretaries know when professors will be in and out. Maintenance staff can help you locate items that you may need. And cafeteria employees may help you with getting good food! Above all, they may share with you their own stories, and add to your family cultural wealth. I say this because many of them became my family at Brandeis University. They inspired me with their stories. They were happier to see me than most faculty I knew. They would encourage me to keep going like they would their own children. And – some knew how to pronounce my name and help me never forget to speak Spanish.
I don’t know what your future holds, but if my story, and the countless other stories of Latinas/os in higher education are any indication, you my dear, shall be no different.
It is now your turn to create more family cultural wealth!
I don’t have “wash-and-go” hair like the girls in the commercials. Growing up my hair caused me many problems, as I am sure it has for many little girls. But the kind of problems I had were not just that I didn’t have the right bow to wear, or that maybe I didn’t like the way it happened to look that day. No. My hair just didn’t know itself. Junot Diaz’s character Yunior in Drown may have had Africa running through his hair, but I had Africa, Europe, and Quechua (Native American) running through mine – and my hair was just all confused.
When I was younger, family members called me “sambita” because I had curlier hair than my mother and sisters. I had no idea what this term meant at the time. All I knew was that it meant “different” to them and it meant “no one knew how to help me take care of my hair” to me. So for years I would spend my time pouring over magazines like Teen magazine, magazines not meant for girls of color, to figure out ways to straighten my hair to look like the women in my immediate family. “ESTE PELO!” my mother would exclaim trying to get through the African and Native American in my hair – and it all just turned into one ball of a frizzy mess.
Until one day I went to Ecuador. I was 16 years old and it was my first trip back since I was three. There I met more women from my family, more Ecuadorian women. These women didn’t have tight curls – they had frizzy curls like me but they looked healthier. They didn’t have straight hair like my sisters did – their hair was definitely curlier. That in-between state of hair – that mixture of people – evidence of our heritage – was stated plainly in our hair and on our lips. And for the first time, looking at them, I felt normal.
So I asked – “How do you keep your curls? I brush and brush, use water, pull it back at night, pull it up in the morning—I feel like I tried everything and nothing works!”
My cousin looked at me like I was crazy. She said very pointedly – “Stop brushing.”
Lightning bolt.
What?! Could it really have been that simple? Stop brushing?! For years, I saw Marcia Brady brushing her long blonde hair 100 times a day and I thought something was wrong with me!
For years, I hated THE BRUSH. Who knew a brush was a tool for my own oppression!
During that time, although I was racially aware, I was not racially conscious. I was, however, mad that I had this “kind of hair” and that I had to learn this late in the game how to “manage” it. Even the term “managing” seems so oppressive. As we “manage” diversity on our college campuses or corporations or celebrate “difference” rather than discuss the inequalities that those differences represent. At a very micro-level I was learning about the ways women of color have been oppressed for years – through our hair.
A revelation is only the beginning of acceptance. From then on I looked to magazines that were dedicated to women of color – Essence, Ebony – even though I was not a Black woman they were magazines that more closely addressed my issues with hair. Latina magazine popped up in my late teenage years and that helped this mission to destroy THE BRUSH a little more.
Despite all these discoveries, I still had my struggles with hair – all issues of acceptance of course. I went through my hair-straightening stage. When I thought I would be accepted more in college if I had long, straight hair. Then I went through my curly hair stage, when I chopped my hair off and realized the curls bounced back and my hair seemed happy. This stage was really my ‘I don’t care what you think” era. I was more politically active on campus, I was more outspoken, and I didn’t spend money on a brush. A curling iron instead was used to push the European strands of hair to join the rest of the curls.
I can’t say I loved my hair growing up. The tugging, pulling, straightening, moisturizing, moussing, brushing – all of that my hair endured – just to help it finds its place. All because I didn’t feel like I had wash-and-go hair.
Today is a different story. I appreciate my hair now. I can curl it when I want. Straighten it when I want. Both are still long processes but I have learned that this is just my hair. Putting myself in the world where women have similar hair also helped. After all, who can help teach you how to love your African and Native hair – except for other women who have African and Native hair?
Today I don’t hate the brush – that much. I understand now that it is used as one of those oppressive tools – teaching some of us from jump that some of us have Marcia Brady hair and some of us don’t. So when people around me say that children don’t see color – I laugh.
What’s lovely about today is that we no longer just have Marcia Brady to teach us about hair – today we have people like Natasha Tarpley, author of I Love My Hair and Camille Yarbrough’s Cornrows, Lucille Clifton’ poetry and many others. And in following this tradition of race-work, I hope to expand this by adding my own testimony of what it means to be a little Ecuadorian girl with frizzy hair growing up on the Upper West Side of Manhattan – and my mission to use THE BRUSH for race-love and not for race-evil.
There is a lot of race-work to do out there!
PS: I look like the little girl in this video when she wears it up in a ponytail
Race-work, Race-love explores how race work affects the way we love, and conversely, how love affects and contributes to race work. Race work is explored through the eyes and experiences of a Latina educator, specifically an Ecuadorian-American woman whose life’s work revolves around racial justice. All posts are written by ... Continue reading →
Race-work, Race-love 