Latinos

Creating Ourselves: African Americans and Hispanic Americans in Popular Culture and Religious Expression

admin — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 16:01:00 +0000

Edited by Anthony B. Pinn, Benjamin Valentin

The topic of cross-cultural communication has fascinated me for a number of years, partly because of my own experiences in Latin America, and partly from observing the interaction between the Latino/a and African American communities. Watching these two groups interact has taught me a great deal about differences in the ways of communication, how what may be "appropriate" in one culture may not be in the other, and the need for discussion to avoid potential misunderstandings.

Therefore, it was with great interest that I read Creating Ourselves, a study on cross-cultural communication and collaboration between religious scholars of the two largest minority groups in the United States. The timing of the publication of this book is of great importance, as both groups have, to a certain extent, been viewed as "foreign elements" that might threaten the national identity of Americans, especially in the current economic climate. Scholars from both communities engage in a dialogue, an exchange of opinions, perspectives, and hopes, as their history and identity is linked through the cultural production via representations in popular culture.

I found the structure of the work innovative and very much needed in scholarly circles. The book consists of seven sections with two essays in each of them, one from each group. Every article is followed by a response written by a corresponding essayist from the opposite group, each contributor using their own personal experiences to further engage readers.

Teresa Delgado analyses the novel América’s Dream by Esmeralda Santiago, which delves into the life of América González, a single mother who takes a job as a maid in a hotel in New York after suffering abuse by her daughter's father in Puerto Rico. Although América finds freedom in New York, she remains isolated and silent, as she has not broken the dependency of oppression. Cheryl Kirk-Duggan, in response, reflects on the "womanist theory" that calls for revolution in the ways of seeing, living, and being. The term "womanist," coined by Alice Walker, refers to women who are in charge, who champion freedom and who transform the oppressive forms affected by race, gender, and class domination. Kirk-Duggan uses hip-hop artist Lauryn Hill as an example of just one of these extraordinary women.

In "Television and Religion," Jonathan Walton analyses the dramatised faith in megachurch movements; the colossal buildings that house sanctuaries, gyms, daycare, bookstores, and more are especially attractive to African American communities, with their charismatic pastors who even hold worship through an electronic church. Another form of melodrama is found in the Latin telenovelas (soap operas) that have become extremely popular for millions around the world; Kassandra, a Venezuelan soap opera attracts people as far away as Serbia, while The Rich Also Cry is popular even in Moscow.

Overall, I enjoyed reading Creating Ourselves as the subject of creativity in all different forms, styles, colours, and shadows is part of our daily life.

Written by: Anna Hamling, April 30th 2010

Gringa: A Contradictory Girlhood

admin — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 01:02:00 +0000

By Melissa Hart

Seal Press

When Melissa Hart was eight years old, her mother fell in love with Patricia, the woman who drove the school bus. Soon, Hart’s mother left her husband and moved in with Patricia, taking her children with her. Within months, however, Hart learned a heart-wrenching lesson when she discovered that the family courts of the 1970s didn’t regard a woman involved in a same-sex relationship as a fit mother. Hart's dad was given custody, and her mom was left to see her children every other weekend and a few weeks in the summer.

Living in the upscale Manhattan Beach with her upper class father and, after a short interlude, her new stepmother, the author longed for her too-seldom visits to her mother in Oxnard—a place not only geographically distant, but as culturally dissimilar as two places in Southern California could be. This split in her reality left the young Hart understandably confused about her own identity. In Oxnard, she was attracted to the culture of the predominantly Latino neighbors: their lively parties, delicious food, and the warmth that she perceived to be missing from her Manhattan Beach home. As she grew older, Hart longed to emulate her mother’s sexuality. But much to her chagrin, Hart discovered she was attracted to boys, and as much as she yearned to belong to the Latino culture, she was an outsider there as well.

While the writing is skilled and evocative, and the scenes are vivid, Hart gives us a book that doesn’t quite deliver a satisfying, cohesive story. Despite the themes that she revisits (one of the major themes of Gringa is the search for belonging by a girl whose mother was cruelly ostracized from her children by the legal system), her account lacks a defining arc. In some ways, this is not surprising. After all, this is a memoir, and real life is, by nature, episodic. What marks a skilled memoirist is her ability to sift through the events of her life and distill the story. Unless this is accomplished, her readers will ask themselves, “Why should I read this?”

While I was keenly interested in the problems Hart encounters as a result of her mother’s absence, her experiences as the daughter of a woman in a lesbian relationship, and the challenges she faced living with her often angry father and her new stepmother. I was far less interested in her account of getting a new car, her brief high school acting career, or her interlude as a student in Santa Barbara. A more judicious editor would likely have advised taking much of this material out because, while the writing is competent, it fails to overcome the problems in these chapters: a lack of narrative momentum, a clear relationship with the central story of the memoir, and a compelling conflict that makes the reader care.

Hart’s memoir is important in that it adds to our understanding of the impact of anti-gay prejudice and the bitter price children of lesbian and gay parents have been forced to pay; this is evoked with great emotional resonance in the book. Unfortunately, the strength of the memoir is diluted by the inclusion of material that seems extraneous.

Written by: Elaine Beale, February 25th 2010

Selenidad: Selena, Latinos and the Performance of Memory

admin — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 00:58:00 +0000

By Deborah Paredez

Duke University Press

“This is not a book about Selena, but about what it means to remember her,” explains the author in the opening statement of her book. Remembering Selena is a remedy that releases the emotions of her grieving family, her fans, and those who became engaged in her music only after discovering the impact that she had on Latino communities.

Selena, a pop diva from Corpus Christi Texas, was murdered by her fan club president, Yolanda Saldívar on March 31, 1995. Instantly, Selena became a posthumous icon—a symbol—the object of adoration by many. Selena’s museum was erected in her honour in Corpus Christi, and Selena’s monument graces the downtown area of her native city. Selena: A Musical Celebration of her Life _(2001), the film _Selena (1997) with Jennifer López, and even A Conversation with Academics about Selena that aired on television (1999) explore her life and how she changed the perception of Latino music. In 2003, Selena Live - The Last Concert, which included her famous hit "Como la Flor" (Like the Flower), was released on DVD in her memory. It also served as a method for experiencing latinidad as an effective mode of belonging.

Who was Selena? Selena Quintanilla-Pérez, lead singer of Selena y Los Dinos started singing at the age of five. She was a U.S.-born Latina who grew up speaking English in a working class family that had lived in Texas for several generations. Her father, Abraham Quintanilla Jr. forced her to learn Spanish so she could further her career. Selena was voluptuous, had a Latina’s features and exuded a sexual charisma on stage. Her famous glittering purple pantsuit hugging her hips was a signature of Selena’s skill as a performer. She gained popularity through musical performances of a Tejano music that was often ignored by the mainstream and even by Latino communities. At the age of twenty-three, she was worth over five million dollars.

What does it mean to remember her? When she was murdered, Selena became the ‘Tex-Mex Madonna’ and the focus of collective suffering on both sides of the border. She also became the unquestioned queen of mestizo pop music. Many Americans invested emotionally, politically and financially in Selena’s posthumous life as they had previously in the lives of Evita and Frida Kahlo. The films made about them attracted the attention of people all over the world.

Through remembering them, a Latin explosion or boom promoted the mourning of collective memories; it also capitalized on the cultural, economic, and political concept of latinidad _in the United States. Selena launched not only _latinidad, but also initiated the Latin music boom that emerged in the 1990s and created Latino mega-stars.

Deborah Paredez’ study on Selena’s posthumous importance is well written, engaging, and timely. She reveals the cultural, political, and economic dynamics of some commemorations of Selena. She further explores the reactions of Latinos and mainstream Americans after Selena’s death. Selenidad enables—if only for a moment—a sense of belonging to communities of the living. A great and easy read coupled with a selection of interesting photographs.

Written by: Anna Hamling, November 14th 2009

El Reflejo

admin — Sat, 16 May 2009 10:02:00 +0000

By Cal State Long Beach students

Long Beach is unlike any other city in Southern California; it is a place where both million dollar homes and low-income housing co-exist within mere miles of each other, it is suburban and urban, it’s an oppressive, concrete jungle that happens to be surrounded by picturesque beaches, but most compelling, perhaps, is the eclectic mix of people that call the city home. Long Beach is a true representation of the term “all walks of life.” Inhabitants include blond beach babes, immigrants from every country, a large black community, the ultra-wealthy, hordes of homeless, a thriving gay community, and a massive Latino culture, which should come as no surprise seeing as how forty percent of the city is Latino. It is these last two segments of Long Beach society that most concern the staff of El Reflejo, a small, self-published zine compiled by students of Cal State Long Beach.

El Reflejo, which means “the reflection” in Spanish, is quite literally a direct reflection of the lives of its writers. Not all of the zine’s staff members are Latino, but many of them are members of campus organizations such as FUEL (Future Underrepresented Educated Leaders) and La Raza Student Association. The content featured in the zine comes in all forms: poems, essays, confessions, drawings and all of it manages to be optimistic, angry, idealistic, tragic, and hilarious, as only young people are apt to be. Though small in size, the publication makes a big impact for students who would otherwise go unheard; either through their own self-imposed silence or because no forum previously existed for them to be heard.

There are two sections guaranteed to be in each issue: Jotos Anonimos and Mojados Anonimos, which are essentially sections cordoned off for writings pertaining to being queer and undocumented; writers can remain anonymous if they choose. Yadira Arroyo, a Chicano studies major and women’s studies minor, is one of El Reflejo’s most outspoken writers and does not pussyfoot her around her intentions for the zine. Arroyo said:

“Personally, I want to smash that macho/hyper-nationalistic stereotype of Chicano activists. I want to replace it with one of love, as corny as that sounds. Love for who you are and where you come from, but not blind love. Despite public perception, Latinos do not inherently come from a place of malice, which is often assumed in the cases of ‘lawless’ undocumented immigrants, for example. Our culture can certainly be ugly at times, but in the end we are just trying to love and survive.”

The zine, which is small and humble… and xeroxed, is a true labor of love. The publication is in no way funded by Cal State Long Beach and none of its eight core staff members get paid. Essentially, it is through the sale of nachos, hot dogs, beer, and liquor at what seems to be a constant stream of fundraisers that El Reflejo gets the meager funds it needs to continue chugging forward into its unsure future.

What began as nothing more than an idea being kicked around at a 2005 student retreat, has since blossomed into a four-year-old publication that gives students such as Pablo Ildefonso, a Chicano studies major, the chance to finally make their presence known on a campus lacking in diversity. “We exist on this campus, which is something the University tends to forget when they generalize the student experience here. Our experiences as Latinos on this campus aren’t known very well and my voice needs to be heard if there are people going through a similar things,” Ildefonso said.

Student publications have famously been the one place where young people can voice their concerns and opinions about the unsure world they are living in. It is only through the blood, sweat, and tears of the unrepresented segment of the Cal State Long Beach student body that this type of alternative media outlet can exist—and that’s not a bad thing. According to Arroyo, the staff’s efforts to keep the zine going and their pained published writings are a record of their existence on campus and it is because of their efforts that people will be able to look back and know how progressive Latino students were managing in a less-than-accepting world.

“This is our voice, our affirmation,” said Arroyo. “We produce work and it validates us in a way that society doesn’t. Mainstream, white-American, classist culture is supposed to be the stamp of approval, but with El Reflejo, we have the opportunity to nourish a beautiful arena—one that’s free from the outsider’s gaze.”

Written by: Tina Vasquez, May 16th 2009