Pensamientos Blog

I have learned that Black History Month is not just to celebrate the sacrifices and the culture. It’s a time to open up oneself and truly reflect on who I am and what being Afro-Latino means to me. I am both Black and Latino—not just one or the other, and both should be celebrated.

CumbreAfro 2024 was dedicated to Haiti’s legacies and the need to show solidarity with the Haitian people's struggles today. This served as both the starting point and the endpoint of the Summit and is a crucial part of its conclusions: the significance of positioning Haiti as the number one priority on the agenda of Afro-diasporic black movements in Latin America and the Caribbean.

Recoding people who identify as monoracial into a multiracial category results in undercounts and nullifies our ability to accurately assess racial disparities. Additionally, the involuntary reclassification of a race response can be interpreted as a violation of respondent self-identification.

Empathy appears when we glimpse kindness among those of us who migrate clandestinely, and we become siblings. Those of us who manage to arrive know the gaseous state to which one aspires to avoid being seen or perceived in transit, to avoid sounds. Networks are woven, a discourse about walking and the awareness that everyone cares for themselves. There is no strength to carry the weight of others. The repercussion of how they see us is critical, and if they don’t see or read us, the better. Always better. We access the memory with diffuse details tinged with fright—long-term memories. We are bodies in a light atmosphere. Invisible and mirrored, we were others to be able to exist. When one arrives alive, it becomes clear that the prize was not to arrive.

My week at the UN reiterated my belief in Pan-Africanism and that human effort can improve the world. I was reminded that my voice matters even when others disagree with what I am saying. Throughout the week, I crossed paths with many Black leaders who used their privilege to denounce anti-Black racism and demand tangible changes to protect people of African descent.

I once showed up in the world as a black-appearing man. Yet now, I’m simply a black man who embraces beauty in multiple variations: Kinky. Wide. Melanated. Soulful. Ebony. Brilliant. Griot. Earthy. As loud as, “I’m black and I’m proud.” As subtle as the dark matter that holds our galaxy together.

The Office of Management and Budget (OMB) has just released proposed changes that would make Hispanic ethnicity and race analytically equivalent. This proposed change will lead to reductions in the AfroLatin@ count and distribution of resources to our communities. We must act now!

To understand the implications of the people of Yanga--and of Cuajinicuilapa, El Ciruelo, Corralero, and other like communities--we must go beyond physical appearance, cease determining the extent of Africa's influence simply by how much one "looks" African, and go forward to critically examine what indeed is Mexico and who are the Mexicans. So, yes, there are black people in Mexico.

It’s June 11th, your birthday, and I can imagine myself ending a long subway ride at the Atlantic Station, still wrestling with which ofrenda to bring you, or better said: which would least frustrate you. El biscochito you love pero hecho por “el presentao,” whose bakery you vowed to never patron again, or pick up another pinot? I know this to be your favorite wine though you never drink a drop of my selections.