Thick girls don’t cry

by Erica González

West Indian Day Parade '09 credit: Erica González

The annual West Indian Day Parade in New York City has plenty of bragging rights when it comes to creativity. No feather, sequin or color is spared in the elaborate and competitive costume-making, which is rooted in carnival traditions. But there is something more to this fabulous display of culture and ethnic pride.

Sure, there IS a lot of eye candy: most of the contingents of dancers wear tiny two-piece costumes or are shirtless—a spectacle boosted by all of the wining to soca and dancehall.

There is also a defiance of mainstream images.

Or maybe defiance isn’t the right word. It’s more like an utter dismissal of what’s propagated by the mass media—that is, how too many women, and men, are conditioned to swallow Giselle Bundchen’s shape as the ideal body goal. (I could get into how unrepresentative she is of most Brazilian women.)

Marching down Eastern Parkway were women of all shapes—a few thin, most thick and all heightened by the regality of their headdresses. They are voluptuous Caribbean women of all ages. They are real life women, sans airbrushing, fake boobs, and liposuction.

West Indian Day Parade '09 by Erica González

West Indian Day Parade '09 by Erica González

The wave after wave of women not beholden to Cosmo and Vogue would make some people gag. But I think that’s a projection of the body insecurities we are all made to feel—as in, “how dare she put on that costume when I wouldn’t.”

Caribbean women may be used to celebrating curves, but the pressure, in one form or another, is always there to hide them. So I appreciate the in-your-face boldness of the parade. It should be a wider standard.

Wise Latinas of the World — throw your hands up!

We know Judge Sonia Sotomayor is wise. But who are some of the other wise Latinas the rest of the world should know about?  Do share in the comments section.

Speaking of…decades ago, some wise women took on machismo in the Young Lords Party (YLP). This month, July, marks the 40th anniversary of the YLP’s establishment in New York City.

Iris Morales, the producer of the documentary ¡Palante Siempre Palante!: The Young Lords, served with the YLP’s education ministry. “We fought against this idea of revolutionary machismo because we said, what is revolutionary racism?” Morales told me in an interview last month. Read the article I wrote on how women shaped the YLP.

A point about the YLP — yes, it was mostly Puerto Rican, but included other Latinos and African Americans. “The Puerto Rican community has an incredible ability to build bridges with other communities,” said Denise Oliver, who was in the YLP.

The New Latino Movement

Sophia Cleland (far left) and José Contreras listening to speakers last week in D.C. at a social networking night of the New Latino Movement.

Sophia Cleland (far left) and José Contreras listening to speakers last week in D.C. at a social networking night of the New Latino Movement.

New may imply that there is an old Latino movement. But veteran Latino activists shouldn’t take that as an insult. The drift here is that political networks have different origins and platforms in the age of social media. And yes, that another generation is stepping up to the plate.

Young Latinos were among the countless people glued to the U.S. Senate hearings on Supreme Court nominee Judge Sonia Sotomayor. Many are inspired by her story. Some are taking that inspiration a step further.

At a gathering last week in Washington D.C., Hugo Nájera called the nomination of Sotomayor a pivotal moment for Latinos. “I think it parallels similarly with the way African Americans see Obama,” said Nájera, of Salvadoran descent. “To see someone physically there [on the Supreme Court] means it’s actually attainable.”

Nájera, 31, also called the expected appointment of Sotomayor to the Supreme Court “a powerful testament to the work of our people.”

Nájera, a policy expert in higher education, is part of a budding progressive social network called the New Latino Movement (NLM). The group describes itself online as a new generation of activists that emerged during the 2008 presidential election. This generation, according to the NLM, is committed to civic engagement and ensuring that the priorities of Latinos are at the forefront of the national agenda.

The NLM includes Latinos who work on Capitol Hill and with policy organizations or in other areas.

Melody Star Gonzales, who along with others has developed the NLM project, said the group organized a Latino political training day in January. NLM’s online community of Facebook supporters has grown to include more than 800 people from 32 states, Gonzales said.

NLM is hoping the excitement around Sotomayor’s nomination will help build on the activism around the last presidential elections. Last Tuesday, the NLM hosted a “Sotomayor supporter networking night” in D.C., where Rep. Charles Gonzalez. (D-TX) and Cesar Perales of Latino Justice PRLDEF were the special guests.

Sophia Cleland, a Mexicana and Native American in her 30’s, told me she attended the gathering because she wanted to celebrate Sotomayor’s nomination. “The criticism of the firefighters’ case – I thought she handled that really well,” said Cleland, a graduate student and immunologist at the National Institutes of Health.

At the reception, Lariss Jude, 22, pointed to the importance of the judiciary to Latinos seeking redress for inequities. Jude, who is of Mexican and European descent, said the day she started working with the national Latina organization MANA was the day Sotomayor’s nomination was announced. “It was a beautiful thing,” said Jude, who is entering law school this fall.

In D.C., there are 34,000 Latinos over the age of 18 out of a Hispanic population of 49,000. In the nation, Latinos are the fastest-growing population, one that skews younger. Each month, thousands of Hispanics turn 18, making them eligible to register to vote.

Besides leaning young, Latinos are incredibly diverse. But Jose Contreras, an NLM member, says the ties that bind are strong. While Sotomayor is Puerto Rican, Latinos of other ethnicities remain enthusiastic about her nomination, said Contreras, 30, and a technology consultant living in Maryland.

“No matter what country you come from, we all have a common thread,” said Contreras, who is Colombian and Salvadoran. “For us, it’s a proud moment.”

Who is American?

Much of the criticism of Sotomayor around her ethnicity has to do with who is perceived—or rather, not perceived to be— a “real” American.

In an insightful op-ed for the NY Daily News, scholar and filmmaker Frances Negrón-Muntaner lays out how the Supreme Court has played a central role in excluding the citizens of Puerto Rico and other U.S. territories from full civil rights.

“Unlike other Latinos, the Supreme Court has deeply scarred Puerto Rican political life,” Negrón-Muntaner writes. “The people who live in the territories, nearly 5 million strong, are American citizens only in name.”

She says this of the Sotomayor nomination – “Given this context, that a Puerto Rican may become a Supreme Court judge is a stunning historical development.”

A very good angle to raise in what’s been a circular debate so far around Sotomayor.

WTF – Coors’ Rican parade ad

From heylatino

From heylatino

So does Coors think it’s being cute with its ad ”Emboricuate” — a spin off the word emborachate, which means get drunk. What do you think about this ad?

And what is up with Heylatino’s ignorance: “Yea, the ad looks great but we mustn’t forget the fact that people will take it literally and another “Puerto Rican RAPE Day” (ca 2000) may cast a shadow over this great event, once again.”

Children should be seen and heard

Brisas Larios and her mother, a domestic worker

Brisas Larios and her mother, a domestic worker

Earlier this evening, 11-year-old Abigail Drach told a packed room
at St. Philips Episcopal Church in Harlem what she thought about the fact that domestic workers don’t have basic labor protections.

“I don’t think it’s fair that some babysitters are not treated fairly,” said Drach, who is cared for by a nanny.

A minute later, Brisas Larios, the daughter of a domestic worker and probably a year younger than Abigail, took the mike. “I hope they win a bill of rights so they can be respected,” she said of workers like her mother.

The wisdom of these young girls should be a lesson for Albany lawmakers. A bill in the NY state legislature would provide domestic workers with the basic rights that too many other workers take for granted. But there are only two weeks left before this legislative session closes.

Domestic Workers United, the chief organizing vehicle by and for these caregivers, has strategically brought together a range of stakeholders—nannies, employers and labor activists—to push a Domestic Workers’ Bill of Rights in New York.

This legislation has been in the pipeline for five years. It’s time—overtime—for Albany legislators to deliver basic worker rights to the thousands of women who take care of families throughout New York.

Domestic workers are not protected under state and federal labor laws. Their work is not covered by the National Labor Relations Act, the Fair Labor Standards Act, the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, or civil rights laws. This leaves them vulnerable to abuse and exploitation.

This unacceptable inequity is historically rooted in the racist and sexist treatment of African-American women, who for centuries performed the drudgery of domestic work. In the 1930s, when labor rights were being written into laws, these women and their long, honest days of work were excluded.

Poet Kim McCrae of the Poverty Initiative spoke these verses to the audience rallying for the legislation: Modern day slavery dressed up in working-class clothes…Invisible chains have a strange weight to them.

What can you do, you ask? Or what should you do? Contact your Assemblymember and State Senator and tell them they are not getting your vote until they approve the Domestic Workers’ Bill of Rights THIS legislative session.

Abigail and Brisas get it. So should the so-called adults in Albany.

Fearless Judge, Fearful Conservatives

The nation has barely had a chance to meet the new nominee for the Supreme Court, but some are all too ready to resent a woman of such fortitude. The author argues that sexism is evident in the agenda of many of Judge Sotomayor’s opponents.

by Erica Gonzalez
The Supreme Court nominee Judge Sonia Sotomayor has been described as a bully and domineering. Critics have questioned her temperament on the federal bench, as well as her intelligence.

Is this a surprise when it comes to a powerful woman?

The language used to describe Sotomayor was tired before it was even launched. It reflects a stale, conservative script with two aims: deflating the power of a woman poised to advance our nation and using her gender against her for political means. And it fuels a Jurassic and patriarchal notion—that leadership and greatness are the domain of only men

Read this entire column here.

The Rat

Rat on Addams Street, Brooklyn

Rat on Addams Street, Brooklyn

I get a kick out of the big blow-up rat that unions use to call out employers. In this case, it’s Laborers Local 78 claiming that Muss Development and Gotham Stat are putting workers at risk of asbestos.

A Latina for the Supreme Court?

Pace University

Pace University

Justice David Souter will retire from Supreme Court. Obama can make history with the first Hispanic appointment to the Court. El Diario-La Prensa says Judge Sonia Sotomayor should be a leading candidate.

Esquire magazine makes a case for Sotomayor, Huffington Post says she is a favorite and her Facebook fans page is rapidly growing.

Different production, same story?

film poster by Saul Bass

film poster by Saul Bass

The opening on Broadway of a revival of “West Side Story” generated more media coverage than the first Puerto Rican astronaut aboard the recent Discovery mission. Have Puerto Ricans come a long way or not?

Here’s Blanca Vazquez’s take on the musical. What’s yours?

West Side Story, Part 3
Blanca Vázquez
(condensed Spanish version published first by El Diario-La Prensa at http://tinyurl.com/d5pwrv)

I didn’t see the 1957 play but I saw the 1962 film version of West Side Story. The play was staged on every continent, from Australia to Germany to Japan to South Africa. West Side Story, Part 2, the movie, won the Oscar for best picture. Our own Rita Moreno won the best supporting actress Oscar. The film was a smash hit. It introduced Puerto Ricans to Middle America and to the planet. And therein lies its power.

“’Cause every Puerto Rican’s a lousy chicken…”

From the beginning, West Side Story was problematic for Puerto Ricans. The line in the film about letting Puerto Rico “sink back into the ocean” made us cringe. But it wasn’t really about the lyrics. What mattered was the context of 1950s and 60s New York City for Puerto Ricans.

Puerto Ricans came to New York after World Ware II because American capital’s control of the Island’s resources made us redundant in our own land. Challenged by the Nationalist Party and independentistas, U.S. and Island policy makers encouraged migration to blow off political steam. And so the Island’s unemployed working class came to New York. Suddenly, $45 one-way tickets to New York City were easy to get. In the 1950s as many as 50,000 a year arrived to these shores. Congress had made us citizens in 1917, but we were the wrong hue in pre-Civil Rights America — an interracial people in a black and white country, Dios mío.

As Pedro Pietri said in his epic poem “Puerto Rican Obituary,” Juan, Maria, Milagros and Olga worked hard, aspiring to the American dream and then to go back home again. But mass media sensationalism made us somehow responsible for all the city’s ills. A monolingual school system put many in classes for the “retarded,” as they called it back then, and dropped us out in large numbers.

West Side Story is set in this period. Images of savage Puerto Rican hoodlums were on the front pages of the City’s many daily newspapers. In 1959, headlines raged about “The Capeman,” Salvador Agron, who had killed two boys in a rumble in Hell’s Kitchen. At 16 he was the youngest prisoner to be sentenced to death, later commuted to life in prison. West Side Story echoed the already emerging public and media consensus that Puerto Ricans were a burden and a problem population.

Nothing more reflects Puerto Rican reactions to West Side Story than the song “America.” In the original play and in the current production, only the women sing the song. The “sink back in the ocean” line was not in the original play, but it is in the movie. But the film stages the relative benefits of migration as a call from the women for a level of freedom they didn’t have at home. The men respond with a critique of how racism and discrimination slam a people down. Sure, everything’s fine in America — “if you’re all white in América.” We appreciated that, but that authentic Puerto Rican perspective is taken away in the new production.

West Side Story remains both a headache and heartache. The play has real power in the way our music and dance are gloriously appropriated by composer Leonard Bernstein and choreographer Jerome Robbins. The sets are gorgeous. That real Latinos play key roles is welcomed. But it also recycles the essential Puerto Rican image established by the movies of the 1940s and 50s. It’s all about ghetto dwelling gang-bangers and their sexy mamacitas. It’s not our story but it is our stereotype.

Ultimately, as a play, a film and in revival, West Side Story is not about us. I think Frances Negrón-Mutaner got it right. In her article “Feeling Pretty” (available online) she writes that West Side Story’s true forbidden love was the one lived by the gay and bisexual men who created it over 50 years ago. The gender-bending Anybodys character and sensitive Baby John, both representing the white ethnic Sharks gang, fit into that deeper analysis. Somewhere there is a place for that love and the time is really now — witness Iowa and Vermont.

Punto Final: We, the Puerto Ricans of the Diaspora, need to write our own stories, in every conceivable format. That’s the “someday” I’ve been longing for. We have so many compelling and richer stories to tell.

Blanca Vazquez teaches in the Film and Media Studies department at Hunter College, City University of New York.

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