Essential Afro-Latino/ Caribbean Current Events
- Thread starter Poitier
- Start date
Marlon James CreditKatherine Turczan
From Jamaica
to Minnesota
to Myself
I knew I had to leave my home country — whether in a coffin or on a plane.
By MARLON JAMESMARCH 10, 2015
At 28 years old, seven years out of college, I was so convinced that my voice outed me as a faq that I had stopped speaking to people I didn’t know. The silence left a mark, threw my whole body into a slouch, with a concave chest, as if trying to absorb impact. I’d spent seven years in an all-boys school: 2,000 adolescents in the same khaki uniforms striking hunting poses, stalking lunchrooms, classrooms, changing rooms, looking for boys who didn’t fit in. I bought myself protection by cursing, locking my lisp behind gritted teeth, folding away my limp wrist and drawing 36-double-D girls for art class. I took a copy of Penthouse to school to score cool points, but the other boys called me “batty boy” anyway — every day, five days a week. To save my older, cooler brother, I pretended we weren’t related. At home, I lost myself in dikkens’s London, Huck Finn’s Mississippi River or Professor Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. One day after school, instead of going home, I walked for miles, all the way down to Kingston Harbor. I stopped right at the edge of the dock, thinking next time I would just keep walking.
The University of the West Indies was a door: wide open. I found friends who seemed to have been waiting all summer for me to show up. I walked into the library with a back issue of Spin, and somebody asked if that was the one with Tom Waits. I’d known people who were geeky, sarcastic, well versed in the Smiths and “The Wrath of Khan,” but they had never been my friends before. Now I was dragged into word wars because one friend said “Time Bandits” was the greatest movie ever, when everybody knew it was “Life of Brian.” There were cheap liquor, potato chips, ironic quips, mix tapes. But when college ended, I returned home, got a job in advertising and shut myself down again. The people I had left behind were waiting for me when I got back.
The entrance to my cubicle was blocked by a boss with curious eyebrows who asked why all my magazines showed men on the covers, what GQ meant, where was Playboy? Every man in the office had a woman on the side, whether he was married or not, and even monogamous men were considered gay. Memories of childhood returned as nightmares: I was a kid again, frightened by school, praying to God every night, please let me wake up in another body. One that walked and talked right. That did not play house with a boy in the neighborhood that time when he was 8 and I was 9 and ruin him and myself.
One day I bought “Steppenwolf,” by Hermann Hesse, in a bookstore. Early in the book, an irrefutable argument for suicide jumped out and grabbed me by the neck: the scene in which the protagonist, having given himself his own expiration date, realizes that he can put up with anything, tolerate everything, suffer through all things because he knows when he’s going to check out. I hadn’t thought about killing myself since I was 16. But now there were nights when I woke up crying, or found myself out on the jail-terrace sunk so low into sadness that I had no memory of how I got there. I listened over and over again to lyrics from the song “I Found a Reason,” by the Velvet Underground: “I do believe/If you don’t like things you leave.” I cried for a sorrow that I did not know I had.
I was 28 years old, and I’d reached the end of myself. Electric words, “end of yourself” — I first heard them during a sermon in a Kingston church. The preacher was talking about when you reached the limits of your own wisdom and the only person left with any answers was God. A new friend in the office, who went to school in Canada and came in as my assistant, read my sarcasm as a defense tactic, though he didn’t know the reason, and said, “You should come to church this Sunday.” By then I was having panic attacks. I went to a doctor and asked, “Am I normal?” He said normal was a scale, with the left being normal and the right being abnormal, and I was somewhere on the left side of the middle. Then he gave me Xanax and asked if I wanted Prozac. Instead I got saved.
The church was called a clap-hands congregation, meaning charismatic, except it was full of upper-middle-class folk, and a cool pastor who drove a sports car. One Wednesday night, while Pastor was telling us that blessings were five miles upstream so we should, like Enoch, wait on the Lord, I started reading Salman Rushdie’s “Shame,” hiding it in the leather Bible case. I had never read anything like it. It was like a hand grenade inside a tulip. Its prose was so audacious, its reality so unhinged, that you didn’t see at first how pointedly political and just plain furious it was. It made me realize that the present was something I could write my way out of. And so I started writing for the first time since college, but kept it quiet because none of it was holy. I stayed in church for nearly nine years, telling a woman I tried to date that the real reason I had no interest in a relationship was Jesus. In 2005, when I was 34, I published my first novel, “John Crow’s Devil,” and wrote myself all the way to a book tour of the United States.
I stepped off the 6 train at Spring Street. Black combat boots busting a move. The phrase is nearly 20 years old, true, but I claimed it because I needed it, never more than right then. Levi’s Offender jeans sausaging my legs skinny; hip hug, butt squeeze, flaring below the knee and over my boots. Blue Stereolab T-shirt that stopped above the belt, Calvin Klein shades bought cheap at Century 21. Stepping out of the subway, emerging crotch first, posture moving from a slump like a question mark to a buffalo stance, an exclamation point. Walking to where Spring hits Broadway, the sexiest junction in all America, I’d heard. Where modeling agencies look down on modeling hopefuls strutting like peacocks.
Anonymity was a sea to dive into. Stonewall was a club to pass by — I was years away from having the guts to go in. Besides, I had no friends. In store windows, I saw a person who took me by surprise at first. The Strand Book Store, Tower Records, Other Music, Shakespeare & Co.; each was a step further away from the self I had left behind in another country.
It was getting dark, though summer stretches daylight, and I needed to be back in the Bronx. My younger half brother and his mother lived there, on a street of Jamaican immigrants. I walked to Barnes & Noble in Union Square, to the bathroom. I closed the door of the special-needs toilet, the same stall I used seven hours before, pulled my normal clothes out of the backpack and peeled New York off my skin. Back to loose T-shirt. Baggy jeans. Sneakers on my feet, boots in the bag. I took the 5 train home to the Bronx.
In creative writing, I teach that characters arise out of our need for them. By now, the person I created in New York was the only one I wanted to be. Over the next two years, I came and left often, pushing the limits of a student visa. I’d make friends but never get close enough to have them ask me anything too deep, playing at being aloof when I was really just shy, and I’d walk past gay bars, turn and walk past again, but never go in. Back home I fell back into church, knowing I didn’t belong there anymore. Once I forgot to code-switch in time and dashed to the bathroom in J.F.K., minutes before my flight to Kingston, to change out of my skinny jeans and hoop earrings. Eight years after reaching the end of myself, I was on borrowed time. Whether it was in a plane or a coffin, I knew I had to get out of Jamaica.
Then the college called. Macalester, in St. Paul, Minnesota. They liked my application letter, résumé and first novel and wanted to interview me. Minnesota, though. My entire knowledge of that state came from Prince’s movie “Purple Rain.” Everyone I asked said only: “It’s cold.” In January, I flew to the U.S. for an interview, then back to Jamaica, and waited, trying to feel nothing, just to keep from being disappointed. In March, Macalester sent an email. A one-year teaching job, full time. I packed up my entire life — my books — to ship to the States. It may have been only a one-year contract, but I was never going back. I felt no emotion. I didn’t see anything of Minnesota until the day I showed up for work.
I was shocked by my empty apartment, thinking “empty” meant a few chairs and a couch. I bought an air bed from Target. Seven days in, I put on jogging shoes and didn’t stop running until I saw something I liked, the downtown Minneapolis skyline. For a man always fearing what people thought, I was suspicious of “Minnesota nice,” everybody smiling and saying hello while they kept walking. But by the end of the first week, somebody I’d just met gave me a bicycle to get around; someone else bought me coffee mugs. Another professor, Casey, who moved here to teach as well, was into the band My Bloody Valentine and “Project Runway.” We became friends in 36 hours. In less than a year, I moved out of school housing to my first real apartment, and a young man who was my neighbor knocked on my door, asking, “Hey, you wanna smoke a bowl with us?” His name was Alex, and his friend across the landing was John-John. Two handsome straight boys who adopted me and became partners in finding me a life, mostly by getting me drunk at the Irish bar up the road.
I had never set foot in a gay bar without paranoia pushing me back out. During Gay Pride week, Alex and John-John dragged me to one called Camp, which was decorated with disco balls and drawings of octopus tentacles. Alex dressed as a cowboy, John-John as Travolta in “Saturday Night Fever,” both addressing themselves to people who hadn’t asked as my “bytches.” I was almost a cowboy, with a western shirt, vest and boot-cut jeans. I wasn’t quite sure what was supposed to happen, and neither were they, so we just drank.
Three years later, my best friend, Ingrid, visited from Jamaica. She looked at my walls, covered with photos and posters, books all the way to the ceiling, four shelves of vinyl, copies of GQ, Bookforum and Out magazines scattered everywhere, my “simile is like a metaphor” T-shirt, then at my face and said: “This is so you, dude. I’ve never seen you as you before.” I didn’t even realize when it happened, when I stopped playing roles. I wore my New York clothes to class, on the street, to clubs. Nobody cared that my jeans had a nine-inch rise. I no longer looked over my shoulder in the dark.
Marlon James is the author of three novels, “John Crow’s Devil,” “The Book of Night Women” and, most recently, “A Brief History of Seven Killings.” He lives in Minnesota.
http://www.nytimes.com/2015/03/15/m...esota-to-myself.html?smid=tw-nytmag&smtyp=cur
News | teleSUR English > Latin America | teleSUR English
Uruguay Committed to Recognizing African Descendants
A member of the Elumbé dance troupe dances during the carnival parade, which is heavily influenced by Afro-Uruguayan folklore, Montevideo, Uruguay, Feb. 4, 2005. | Photo: EFE
Published 7 October 2015
The initiative is part of the International Decade for People of African Descent, which recognizes the significant contribution made by people of African descent.
The Uruguayan government reaffirmed Tuesday its commitment to progress in the political and social recognition of the Afro-Uruguayan people, who represent about 10 percent of the national population, while the greatest concentration of this ethnic group is located in the capital Montevideo.
Uruguay is raising awareness with this measure and it is promoting transparent and inclusive mechanisms of justice, while also contributing to reducing inequality and improving development policies.
RELATED: The Top 12 Most Racist Countries in the World
The initiative is part of the International Decade for People of African Descent, declared by the United Nations. The program kicked off in January and will run until 2024. The initiative is aimed at providing the opportunity to recognize the significant contribution made by people of African descent to societies.
RELATED: Black Lives Matter and 21st Century Abolition
Countries with populations of African descendants states should, according to the U.N. “take concrete and practical steps ... to combat racism, racial discrimination, xenophobia and related intolerance faced by people of African descent...”
The presence of African descendants in Uruguay dates from the arrival of European settlers, who brought the first black slaves. Official data reveals that the Afro-Uruguayan population has higher levels of poverty than the general population, with many earning via unskilled labor.
In 2012, the government of former president Jose Mujica actively promoted positive discrimination, or affirmative action, which reserves 8 percent of of public scholarships to Afro-Uruguayans and changed the law so that companies that hire African descents receive higher rebates on social security contributions.
Uruguay Committed to Recognizing African Descendants
Uruguay Committed to Recognizing African Descendants
A member of the Elumbé dance troupe dances during the carnival parade, which is heavily influenced by Afro-Uruguayan folklore, Montevideo, Uruguay, Feb. 4, 2005. | Photo: EFE
Published 7 October 2015
The initiative is part of the International Decade for People of African Descent, which recognizes the significant contribution made by people of African descent.
The Uruguayan government reaffirmed Tuesday its commitment to progress in the political and social recognition of the Afro-Uruguayan people, who represent about 10 percent of the national population, while the greatest concentration of this ethnic group is located in the capital Montevideo.
Uruguay is raising awareness with this measure and it is promoting transparent and inclusive mechanisms of justice, while also contributing to reducing inequality and improving development policies.
RELATED: The Top 12 Most Racist Countries in the World
The initiative is part of the International Decade for People of African Descent, declared by the United Nations. The program kicked off in January and will run until 2024. The initiative is aimed at providing the opportunity to recognize the significant contribution made by people of African descent to societies.
RELATED: Black Lives Matter and 21st Century Abolition
Countries with populations of African descendants states should, according to the U.N. “take concrete and practical steps ... to combat racism, racial discrimination, xenophobia and related intolerance faced by people of African descent...”
The presence of African descendants in Uruguay dates from the arrival of European settlers, who brought the first black slaves. Official data reveals that the Afro-Uruguayan population has higher levels of poverty than the general population, with many earning via unskilled labor.
In 2012, the government of former president Jose Mujica actively promoted positive discrimination, or affirmative action, which reserves 8 percent of of public scholarships to Afro-Uruguayans and changed the law so that companies that hire African descents receive higher rebates on social security contributions.
Uruguay Committed to Recognizing African Descendants
newworldafro
DeeperThanRapBiggerThanHH
Great info still 
Growing Up Latina With Amara La Negra
Viva
Marjua Estevez @_MsEstevez / October 14, 2015
Dominican singer, model and actress Amara La Negra lives for performing, for giving the people something to remember her by. It’s the kind of stuff that feeds her soul and keeps her black woman self moving in a male-dominated industry. Yet Amara, whose music has become increasingly popular even in a Caribbean nation overflowing with racism, refuses to be eclipsed by the overwhelming whiteness that notoriously exists in spheres of music and entertainment.
READ: Growing Up Latina With Nina Sky
In a time where the state of U.S. born Latinos has reached a tipping point, La Negra is proudly rocking her ‘fro, twerking her ample backside and wearing her ebony skin, so unapologetically it’s utterly swoon-worthy. Get to know what it was like growing up Amara, back home near Allapattah, Miami.
–
Unforgettable childhood memory:
Every Sunday, when my mom was off work, she would love to cook and clean. She would put on some loud ass music – Juan Luis Guerra, Celio Vargas – and throw water around the house, on the walls, the floor and just go at it. It was a very Latin thing to do, a very Spanish cultural thing that she did. And she would cook mangu, queso frito, salami, and be dancing and mopping all over the place.
Favorite home cooked dish:
Well, my mom is a chef. So her cooking skills are banging. She’s awesome. And because I’m so accustomed to the fast lifestyle and it’s rare I get to home cooked meals, I love my mangu, queso frito, carne guisada, and what we Dominicans call la bandera — arroz, habichuelas,y la carne (rice, beans, and meat).
Craziest Hispanic proverb as told by mami or abuela:
“Mas hace el que quiere que el que puede,” which essentially refers to the power of will. “She who will does more than she who can.”
Che Guevara moment (greatest moment of rebellion):
So, you know how in school they used to teach you that if your parents hit you, you’re supposed to call 911? I remember this one time, I was probably like 8-years old, and I had the balls to tell my mom, “If you touch me, I’m going to call the police on you!” Oh, my God. This lady got that phone and hit me so hard with that phone – I think she popped my lip – and then she handed me the phone and yelled, “Go ahead and call!” It’s one of those things I’ll never forget. I’m sure plenty of Latino children have similar memories. [Laughs]
I first saw myself as Latina when…
From the get-go. My mom doesn’t speak any English, so I was obligated to speak Spanish at home, whether I wanted to or not. It was the only way we could communicate. I would speak Spanish at home, English at school, and, at times, I would speak Spanglish altogether. But I took special classes for my diction, and she had her own home remedy where she would stick a pencil on my tongue and make me read aloud the newspaper in Spanish, which I hated. I say all that to say, I knew I was Latina fairly young. At the end of the day, I’m grateful for the way she raised me and the things she instilled in me. It’s made me the Dominican-American I am today.
Chupacabra or El Cuco:
My mom never really scared me with the whole El Cuco thing. I mean, I did hear about it, of course. It’s not something she would entertain, though. In fact, I think she was El Cuco growing up. [Laughs] This chancleta is El Cuco. [Laughs] Yea, that’s my mom.
READ: Dominican Artist Amara La Negra Is Unapologetic About The Skin She’s In
Poor man’s meal:
Let me tell you, a lot of people got me confused. People see me and think that because I’m famous and have a fat ass and got a few fans – this is what they tell me – that my life was always like this. It was not. I came from the very bottom. I was raised in a single-parent home, where my mom worked up to four jobs to maintain us. It took a lot for her to maintain, not only the household, but the arts programs I was enrolled in. There were times where all we had was rice. There were times where we didn’t even have the eggs, just rice. Or sometimes, we had the Ramen soup.
Household cure-all/remedy:
Oh, yeaaaa. That Vicks Vapor Rub, how we say, vivaporu, that’s the fixer-upper! Your head hurts? Vivaporu. Your nose is running? My mom would get that vivaporu and shove it up there. She would rub it on my back, on my chest, on the bottom of feet! No, no, no… [Laughs] What a trip. Oh, and another one was Agua de Florida. It’s a small bottle of this cologne. It’s high in alcohol concentration. My mom would rub that in the back of my neck – anything could be wrong. Take the out the Agua de Florida!
Salsa, Bachata or Reggaeton?
I’m very open minded when it comes to music. I love salsa, bachata, reggaeton. I like a little bit of everything. I think as an artist, it’s important for me to be open-minded about the variety of music that’s around the world, not just what’s on the radio. There is kuduro, there is soca, Brasilian funk, jazz, blues – besides the music we’re used to from our popular culture. In my household, we listen to a little bit of everything.
Telenovela guilty pleasure:
My mom raised me very Latina, very Cha-Cha. So back in those days, after 7 o’ clock, we had to watch whatever novela was on. We couldn’t miss it. If she had to work, she would take to her VHS and record it. Novela time was our time to bond as mother and daughter. ‘Til this day, it’s something we like to do together. And me and her are the type of people who cry – we cry when we see something intense or emotional. La novela is often a very integral part of the Latino household. It’s a little lost, I think, with all the American series out on TV today, with the living and working lifestyles in the U.S., with technology and whatnot. Before, there was more of that bond, that space to connect.
Historical hero/heroine?
My mom.
Life mantra:
I have to go with, “Mas hace el que quiere que el que puede!” I live by it.
Growing Up Latina With Amara La Negra | Vibe
Viva
Marjua Estevez @_MsEstevez / October 14, 2015
Dominican singer, model and actress Amara La Negra lives for performing, for giving the people something to remember her by. It’s the kind of stuff that feeds her soul and keeps her black woman self moving in a male-dominated industry. Yet Amara, whose music has become increasingly popular even in a Caribbean nation overflowing with racism, refuses to be eclipsed by the overwhelming whiteness that notoriously exists in spheres of music and entertainment.
READ: Growing Up Latina With Nina Sky
In a time where the state of U.S. born Latinos has reached a tipping point, La Negra is proudly rocking her ‘fro, twerking her ample backside and wearing her ebony skin, so unapologetically it’s utterly swoon-worthy. Get to know what it was like growing up Amara, back home near Allapattah, Miami.
–
Unforgettable childhood memory:
Every Sunday, when my mom was off work, she would love to cook and clean. She would put on some loud ass music – Juan Luis Guerra, Celio Vargas – and throw water around the house, on the walls, the floor and just go at it. It was a very Latin thing to do, a very Spanish cultural thing that she did. And she would cook mangu, queso frito, salami, and be dancing and mopping all over the place.
Favorite home cooked dish:
Well, my mom is a chef. So her cooking skills are banging. She’s awesome. And because I’m so accustomed to the fast lifestyle and it’s rare I get to home cooked meals, I love my mangu, queso frito, carne guisada, and what we Dominicans call la bandera — arroz, habichuelas,y la carne (rice, beans, and meat).
Craziest Hispanic proverb as told by mami or abuela:
“Mas hace el que quiere que el que puede,” which essentially refers to the power of will. “She who will does more than she who can.”
Che Guevara moment (greatest moment of rebellion):
So, you know how in school they used to teach you that if your parents hit you, you’re supposed to call 911? I remember this one time, I was probably like 8-years old, and I had the balls to tell my mom, “If you touch me, I’m going to call the police on you!” Oh, my God. This lady got that phone and hit me so hard with that phone – I think she popped my lip – and then she handed me the phone and yelled, “Go ahead and call!” It’s one of those things I’ll never forget. I’m sure plenty of Latino children have similar memories. [Laughs]
I first saw myself as Latina when…
From the get-go. My mom doesn’t speak any English, so I was obligated to speak Spanish at home, whether I wanted to or not. It was the only way we could communicate. I would speak Spanish at home, English at school, and, at times, I would speak Spanglish altogether. But I took special classes for my diction, and she had her own home remedy where she would stick a pencil on my tongue and make me read aloud the newspaper in Spanish, which I hated. I say all that to say, I knew I was Latina fairly young. At the end of the day, I’m grateful for the way she raised me and the things she instilled in me. It’s made me the Dominican-American I am today.
Chupacabra or El Cuco:
My mom never really scared me with the whole El Cuco thing. I mean, I did hear about it, of course. It’s not something she would entertain, though. In fact, I think she was El Cuco growing up. [Laughs] This chancleta is El Cuco. [Laughs] Yea, that’s my mom.
READ: Dominican Artist Amara La Negra Is Unapologetic About The Skin She’s In
Poor man’s meal:
Let me tell you, a lot of people got me confused. People see me and think that because I’m famous and have a fat ass and got a few fans – this is what they tell me – that my life was always like this. It was not. I came from the very bottom. I was raised in a single-parent home, where my mom worked up to four jobs to maintain us. It took a lot for her to maintain, not only the household, but the arts programs I was enrolled in. There were times where all we had was rice. There were times where we didn’t even have the eggs, just rice. Or sometimes, we had the Ramen soup.
Household cure-all/remedy:
Oh, yeaaaa. That Vicks Vapor Rub, how we say, vivaporu, that’s the fixer-upper! Your head hurts? Vivaporu. Your nose is running? My mom would get that vivaporu and shove it up there. She would rub it on my back, on my chest, on the bottom of feet! No, no, no… [Laughs] What a trip. Oh, and another one was Agua de Florida. It’s a small bottle of this cologne. It’s high in alcohol concentration. My mom would rub that in the back of my neck – anything could be wrong. Take the out the Agua de Florida!
Salsa, Bachata or Reggaeton?
I’m very open minded when it comes to music. I love salsa, bachata, reggaeton. I like a little bit of everything. I think as an artist, it’s important for me to be open-minded about the variety of music that’s around the world, not just what’s on the radio. There is kuduro, there is soca, Brasilian funk, jazz, blues – besides the music we’re used to from our popular culture. In my household, we listen to a little bit of everything.
Telenovela guilty pleasure:
My mom raised me very Latina, very Cha-Cha. So back in those days, after 7 o’ clock, we had to watch whatever novela was on. We couldn’t miss it. If she had to work, she would take to her VHS and record it. Novela time was our time to bond as mother and daughter. ‘Til this day, it’s something we like to do together. And me and her are the type of people who cry – we cry when we see something intense or emotional. La novela is often a very integral part of the Latino household. It’s a little lost, I think, with all the American series out on TV today, with the living and working lifestyles in the U.S., with technology and whatnot. Before, there was more of that bond, that space to connect.
Historical hero/heroine?
My mom.
Life mantra:
I have to go with, “Mas hace el que quiere que el que puede!” I live by it.
Growing Up Latina With Amara La Negra | Vibe
Youngster Uses Technology to Fight Teen Pregnancy in Honduran Village
By Thelma Mejía
Cinthia Padilla, the 16-year-old who has revolutionised the village of Plan Grande on the Caribbean coast of Honduras, where she teaches local residents to use basic computer programmes and is using an Internet platform to help prevent teen pregnancy. Credit: Thelma Mejía/IPS
PLAN GRANDE, Honduras, Oct 14 2015 (IPS) - Four years ago, Cinthia Padilla, who is now 16, learned how to use a computer in order to teach children, adolescents and adults in this isolated fishing village in northern Honduras how to use technology to better their lives.
Now she is using her expertise in an online e-learning platform aimed at reducing teen pregnancies in her remote village and neighbouring communities.
Her father, Óscar Padilla, is the community leader who radically changed life in Plan Grande by bringing it round-the-clock hydroelectricity, as well as a project for the conservation and protection of the Matías River basin. His daughter learned a great deal accompanying him to village meetings from an early age.
“My dad would tell me: ‘Stay home little girl! What are you doing here?’” she told IPS. “But I would ignore him because I liked listening to the adults. That’s how I learned, with a computer project that came to the village, and today I teach kids and adults in my free time how to use programmes like Word, Excel and others that help them in their work and studies.
“I started out with a used computer that a businesswoman from the capital gave me four years ago. So far I have trained more than 60 kids and a number of adults. It hasn’t been easy, because who was going to believe in a girl?” said a smiling Cinthia, who is in the first year of secondary school.
Thanks to the skills of this young girl who dreams of becoming a systems engineer to help her community develop and use technology to protect the environment, the 500 inhabitants of Plan Grande discovered the advantages offered by the Internet and other information and communication technologies (ICTs).
Thanks to what they have learned from Cinthia, local fisherpersons have improved their financial skills when selling their catch and purchasing products.
She also launched the e-learning platform to raise awareness among and educate adolescents to prevent teen pregnancy, with the support of the Sustainable Development Network, a civil society organisation that boosts technology use in communities in this impoverished Central American nation of 8.8 million people.
The success of the initiative drew the interest of Noel Ruíz, the mayor of the municipality of Santa Fe, where Plan Grande is located, and of the Global Environment Facility’s Small Grants Programme (GEF SGP), implemented by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP).
With a 50,000 dollar grant from the SGP, the e-learning project will be expanded throughout the entire municipality of Santa Fe and the neighbouring Balfate, starting in 2016. The users will be students and teachers.
In Plan Grande, which is operating as a pilot programme for the platform, the schoolteachers are enthusiastic about the project because teen pregnancy is frequent in this region inhabited mainly by members of the Garifuna ethnic group – descendants of African slaves who intermarried with members of the indigenous Carib tribe.
The National Assembly of Afro-Honduran Organisations and Communities estimates that 10 percent of the country’s population is black.
“This will open kids’ minds and help them not make the mistake of getting pregnant due to a lack of sex education,” Julissa Esther Pacheco, the teacher in Punta Frijol, a hamlet next to Plan Grande, told IPS.
“They have taught us how to use it, even though we don’t have Internet, with interactive educational programmes created to help youngsters learn about their bodies,” she said.
In Punta Frijol, just over three km from the centre of Plan Grande, Pacheco teaches 22 children in grades one through six in the rural schoolhouse. She divides the children by grade and teaches some while the others do homework.
Students in the hamlet of Punta Frijol on the northern coast of Honduras welcome this IPS reporter visiting this remote area to learn about their e-learning programme aimed at bringing down the teen pregnancy rate. The teacher at the one-room rural schoolhouse, Julissa Esther Pacheco, is behind the group of children, to the right. Credit: Thelma Mejía/IPS
Pacheco says the children have been very open to the programme “and are motivated because they know life isn’t all peaches and cream.”
Eight-year-old Javier Alexander Ramos told IPS: “I’m in fourth grade and I like this idea because we’re going to learn by using games, and girls won’t get pregnant or fall in love so young.”
His remarks drew laughter from his fellow students and the parents who had gathered at the school to tell IPS about their expectations for the project, in a demonstration of the importance that local residents put on telling their story, and of their support for the initiative.
Javier said he dreams of a country that is “better educated, in peace and safe, like Plan Grande. I would like to be a congressman when I grow up, to help in so many ways here, and that’s why I like to study. I enjoy learning how to use the computer because although we don’t have our own computers we learn with the ones in the school, which we all share.”
Because of Plan Grande’s location, some 400 km from the capital of Honduras on the Caribbean coast, and only reachable by boat, there are few educational opportunities and locals depend on fishing and subsistence agriculture for a living, while some move away or find seasonal work elsewhere.
Teen pregnancy is frequent in the municipality of Santa Fe, which includes three villages and nine hamlets.
According to Health Ministry and United Nations figures, Honduras has one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in Latin America: one out of four adolescents between the ages of 15 and 19 have given birth.
The birth rate is 108 per 1,000 teenagers in that age group, according to official statistics.
To support the transformation that Cinthia has begun to bring about, Santa Fe Mayor Ruíz came to Plan Grande in September to lay the first stone in what will be a computer lab for the e-learning platform, set to open in January 2016.
“These are very neglected communities, but what they are doing in Plan Grande deserves support; the computer lab will have Internet and other appropriate technologies because we want adolescent girls to one day say: today I’m ready to be a mother,” he told IPS.
Cinthia broke in to say: “Young people here are losing their fear of expressing ourselves, and with this platform we’re going to teach them how to take care of themselves, and how to use the social networks.
“When the SGP proposed this idea, I was the first to say yes because they helped us before to bring electricity, they taught us the importance of nature, and now they’re going to help us educate people so our dreams as young people aren’t cut short at such a young age,” she said.
This remote village of poor fishing families on Honduras’ Caribbean coast has become a national reference point for community-run, clean self-sustainable energy.
And now they want to become an example to be followed in the prevention of teen pregnancy, led by a 16-year-old girl who has also launched a campaign for donations to her village of computers, whether new or used – because she has learned how to fix them as well.
Edited by Estrella Gutiérrez/Translated by Stephanie Wildes
Youngster Uses Technology to Fight Teen Pregnancy in Honduran Village | Inter Press Service
By Thelma Mejía
Cinthia Padilla, the 16-year-old who has revolutionised the village of Plan Grande on the Caribbean coast of Honduras, where she teaches local residents to use basic computer programmes and is using an Internet platform to help prevent teen pregnancy. Credit: Thelma Mejía/IPS
PLAN GRANDE, Honduras, Oct 14 2015 (IPS) - Four years ago, Cinthia Padilla, who is now 16, learned how to use a computer in order to teach children, adolescents and adults in this isolated fishing village in northern Honduras how to use technology to better their lives.
Now she is using her expertise in an online e-learning platform aimed at reducing teen pregnancies in her remote village and neighbouring communities.
Her father, Óscar Padilla, is the community leader who radically changed life in Plan Grande by bringing it round-the-clock hydroelectricity, as well as a project for the conservation and protection of the Matías River basin. His daughter learned a great deal accompanying him to village meetings from an early age.
“My dad would tell me: ‘Stay home little girl! What are you doing here?’” she told IPS. “But I would ignore him because I liked listening to the adults. That’s how I learned, with a computer project that came to the village, and today I teach kids and adults in my free time how to use programmes like Word, Excel and others that help them in their work and studies.
“I started out with a used computer that a businesswoman from the capital gave me four years ago. So far I have trained more than 60 kids and a number of adults. It hasn’t been easy, because who was going to believe in a girl?” said a smiling Cinthia, who is in the first year of secondary school.
Thanks to the skills of this young girl who dreams of becoming a systems engineer to help her community develop and use technology to protect the environment, the 500 inhabitants of Plan Grande discovered the advantages offered by the Internet and other information and communication technologies (ICTs).
Thanks to what they have learned from Cinthia, local fisherpersons have improved their financial skills when selling their catch and purchasing products.
She also launched the e-learning platform to raise awareness among and educate adolescents to prevent teen pregnancy, with the support of the Sustainable Development Network, a civil society organisation that boosts technology use in communities in this impoverished Central American nation of 8.8 million people.
The success of the initiative drew the interest of Noel Ruíz, the mayor of the municipality of Santa Fe, where Plan Grande is located, and of the Global Environment Facility’s Small Grants Programme (GEF SGP), implemented by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP).
With a 50,000 dollar grant from the SGP, the e-learning project will be expanded throughout the entire municipality of Santa Fe and the neighbouring Balfate, starting in 2016. The users will be students and teachers.
In Plan Grande, which is operating as a pilot programme for the platform, the schoolteachers are enthusiastic about the project because teen pregnancy is frequent in this region inhabited mainly by members of the Garifuna ethnic group – descendants of African slaves who intermarried with members of the indigenous Carib tribe.
The National Assembly of Afro-Honduran Organisations and Communities estimates that 10 percent of the country’s population is black.
“This will open kids’ minds and help them not make the mistake of getting pregnant due to a lack of sex education,” Julissa Esther Pacheco, the teacher in Punta Frijol, a hamlet next to Plan Grande, told IPS.
“They have taught us how to use it, even though we don’t have Internet, with interactive educational programmes created to help youngsters learn about their bodies,” she said.
In Punta Frijol, just over three km from the centre of Plan Grande, Pacheco teaches 22 children in grades one through six in the rural schoolhouse. She divides the children by grade and teaches some while the others do homework.
Students in the hamlet of Punta Frijol on the northern coast of Honduras welcome this IPS reporter visiting this remote area to learn about their e-learning programme aimed at bringing down the teen pregnancy rate. The teacher at the one-room rural schoolhouse, Julissa Esther Pacheco, is behind the group of children, to the right. Credit: Thelma Mejía/IPS
Pacheco says the children have been very open to the programme “and are motivated because they know life isn’t all peaches and cream.”
Eight-year-old Javier Alexander Ramos told IPS: “I’m in fourth grade and I like this idea because we’re going to learn by using games, and girls won’t get pregnant or fall in love so young.”
His remarks drew laughter from his fellow students and the parents who had gathered at the school to tell IPS about their expectations for the project, in a demonstration of the importance that local residents put on telling their story, and of their support for the initiative.
Javier said he dreams of a country that is “better educated, in peace and safe, like Plan Grande. I would like to be a congressman when I grow up, to help in so many ways here, and that’s why I like to study. I enjoy learning how to use the computer because although we don’t have our own computers we learn with the ones in the school, which we all share.”
Because of Plan Grande’s location, some 400 km from the capital of Honduras on the Caribbean coast, and only reachable by boat, there are few educational opportunities and locals depend on fishing and subsistence agriculture for a living, while some move away or find seasonal work elsewhere.
Teen pregnancy is frequent in the municipality of Santa Fe, which includes three villages and nine hamlets.
According to Health Ministry and United Nations figures, Honduras has one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in Latin America: one out of four adolescents between the ages of 15 and 19 have given birth.
The birth rate is 108 per 1,000 teenagers in that age group, according to official statistics.
To support the transformation that Cinthia has begun to bring about, Santa Fe Mayor Ruíz came to Plan Grande in September to lay the first stone in what will be a computer lab for the e-learning platform, set to open in January 2016.
“These are very neglected communities, but what they are doing in Plan Grande deserves support; the computer lab will have Internet and other appropriate technologies because we want adolescent girls to one day say: today I’m ready to be a mother,” he told IPS.
Cinthia broke in to say: “Young people here are losing their fear of expressing ourselves, and with this platform we’re going to teach them how to take care of themselves, and how to use the social networks.
“When the SGP proposed this idea, I was the first to say yes because they helped us before to bring electricity, they taught us the importance of nature, and now they’re going to help us educate people so our dreams as young people aren’t cut short at such a young age,” she said.
This remote village of poor fishing families on Honduras’ Caribbean coast has become a national reference point for community-run, clean self-sustainable energy.
And now they want to become an example to be followed in the prevention of teen pregnancy, led by a 16-year-old girl who has also launched a campaign for donations to her village of computers, whether new or used – because she has learned how to fix them as well.
Edited by Estrella Gutiérrez/Translated by Stephanie Wildes
Youngster Uses Technology to Fight Teen Pregnancy in Honduran Village | Inter Press Service
POSTED ON OCTOBER 15, 2015 BY LATINO REBELS
Afro-Colombians Condemn Blackface Soldier TV Character
report this week from Colombia by Jesús Karabalí said that the country’s Afro-Colombian community had set October 8 and 9 as days of protest against Soldado Micolta (Private Micolta), a blackface television character seen on the Sábados Felices (Happy Saturdays) show, broadcast by Caracol TV. According to the report, protesters went to the Caracol studios to speak out again the “racist content” found in several Caracol programs. The protesters also went to the government’s cultural offices as well. They are asking for a real dialogue and action about what they see is an inherent and long-standing problem not only in Colombia, but all over Latin America (read William García’s excellent overview).
Twitter did have one image of the October 8 protest:
A YouTube video of one of the protests is also available:
On October 10, it was business as usual at Caracol, whose Twitter profile was promoting the latest adventures of the Micolta character, a popular figure portrayed by actor Roberto Lozano:
By the way, you should also know that Lozano’s Twitter handle is @negromicolta (“@blackmicolta”). This is Lozano’s official Twitter profile, whose bio reads “Un hermoso niño nacio el 16 de enero de 1978 pero un día se pintó de negro y gracias a sus pequeños ojitos y pulida boquita se creó MICOLTA que sigue ??????????” (“A lovely boy born on January 16, 1978, but un day he painted himself black and thanks to his little eyes and smooth mouth, MICOLTA was created, what will happen next ??????????”)
Here is a video of a Micolta skit with his comedy parter, the character of Lieutenant Rincón (we doubt we need to translate for you):
The report also indicated that Colombian TV has a dreadful history of discrimination against Afro-Colombians, saying that it won’t even give actors opportunities. It cited ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy as a good example of giving opportunities to African Americans because of show creator Shonda Rhimes, but when Colombia’s RCN bought the Spanish-language rights to that show, RCN did not cast any Afro-Colombian actor. Karabalí writes about RCN’s decision: “Esta es la muestra más clara y frontal de racismo de la cual se tenga evidencia en la historia de la televisión colombiana.” (“This is the clearest and most in-your-face example of racism in the history of Colombian television.”)
In addition, the report is also calling for a boycott of an October 30 Los Siameses Comedy show in Cali, which features Micolta:
Afro-Colombians Condemn Blackface Soldier TV Character
Afro-Colombians Condemn Blackface Soldier TV Character
report this week from Colombia by Jesús Karabalí said that the country’s Afro-Colombian community had set October 8 and 9 as days of protest against Soldado Micolta (Private Micolta), a blackface television character seen on the Sábados Felices (Happy Saturdays) show, broadcast by Caracol TV. According to the report, protesters went to the Caracol studios to speak out again the “racist content” found in several Caracol programs. The protesters also went to the government’s cultural offices as well. They are asking for a real dialogue and action about what they see is an inherent and long-standing problem not only in Colombia, but all over Latin America (read William García’s excellent overview).
Twitter did have one image of the October 8 protest:
A YouTube video of one of the protests is also available:
On October 10, it was business as usual at Caracol, whose Twitter profile was promoting the latest adventures of the Micolta character, a popular figure portrayed by actor Roberto Lozano:
By the way, you should also know that Lozano’s Twitter handle is @negromicolta (“@blackmicolta”). This is Lozano’s official Twitter profile, whose bio reads “Un hermoso niño nacio el 16 de enero de 1978 pero un día se pintó de negro y gracias a sus pequeños ojitos y pulida boquita se creó MICOLTA que sigue ??????????” (“A lovely boy born on January 16, 1978, but un day he painted himself black and thanks to his little eyes and smooth mouth, MICOLTA was created, what will happen next ??????????”)
Here is a video of a Micolta skit with his comedy parter, the character of Lieutenant Rincón (we doubt we need to translate for you):
The report also indicated that Colombian TV has a dreadful history of discrimination against Afro-Colombians, saying that it won’t even give actors opportunities. It cited ABC’s Grey’s Anatomy as a good example of giving opportunities to African Americans because of show creator Shonda Rhimes, but when Colombia’s RCN bought the Spanish-language rights to that show, RCN did not cast any Afro-Colombian actor. Karabalí writes about RCN’s decision: “Esta es la muestra más clara y frontal de racismo de la cual se tenga evidencia en la historia de la televisión colombiana.” (“This is the clearest and most in-your-face example of racism in the history of Colombian television.”)
In addition, the report is also calling for a boycott of an October 30 Los Siameses Comedy show in Cali, which features Micolta:
Afro-Colombians Condemn Blackface Soldier TV Character
In the southern state of Paraná, a descendant of a quilombo, communities established by fugitives escaping slavery, becomes the first to earn a Ph.D
Edimara Soares
Note from BW of Brazil: The history of the quilombo is an important piece in the struggle of Afro-Brazilians. These independent communities were established by fugitives escaping the cruelty and brutality of Brazil’s slave regime. Some of these communities grew to be quite heavily populated and even maintained their independence despite continuous attempts of slave masters to re-capture slaves and destroy these communities. The most famous of them all was undoubtedly Palmares led by the legendary Zumbi and his wife Dandara in the 17th century. Today,throughout Brazil there remain numerous leftover communities of the sort where descendants of these revolutionaries continue to struggle for the legal rights to these lands. As these struggles continue, recently, in the southern state of Paraná, one descendant of these quilombolas made her mark in the history books for an individual accomplishment that deserves recognition. Her story below.
Paraná has the first quilombo Ph.D in Brazil
Courtesy of Secretaria da educação – Governo do Estado do Paraná
Edimara Soares is the first quilombo inhabitant of the state of Paraná to earn a Ph.D
The Department of Diversity of the Ministry of Education of the state of Paraná has its first quilombola Ph.D in Brazil. The professor of the state network of education Edimara Soares finished her doctorate in 2012 at the Federal University of Paraná (UFPR), after defending her thesis “Educação Escolar Quilombola: quando a diferença é indiferente” (Quilombola School Education: When the difference is indifferent).
The knowledge that she gained during her research is disseminated and discussed in courses on quilombola school education. The Department of Diversity has existed since 2008 in the Department of Education, and Edimara Soares works in the coordination of the ethno-racial education diversity relations.
Paraná has two state schools that operate within quilombola communities, Colégio Estadual Quilombola Diogo Ramos, in the João Surá community in Adrianópoli and Escola Estadual Quilombola Maria Joana Ferreira, in Adelaide Maria da Trindade Batista community in Palmas.
In addition, another 43 state schools serve students who live in quilombola communities. Paraná has 37 communities certified by the Fundação Cultural Palmares (Palmares Cultural Foundation), an agency of the federal government, such as the quilombo remnants.
“Paraná is reference in quilombo school education. Other states are beginning to discuss it, and here we already have specific educational projects for the quilombola schools,” said Edimara Soares.
Articulation of knowledge
Edimara devoted four years to her studies, two in field research in quilombo state schools of Paraná and in Vake do Ribeira communities, Palmas and Guaíra. “In my research I dealt with the importance of education in the quilombos, in how to make the articulation of knowledge of the quilombo community with the scientific knowledge produced by mankind,” says the Ph.D Emimara Soares.
Edimara lived up to 15 years in the Estância do Meio/Timbaúva quilombo, located in the city of Formigueiro, on the interior of the state of Rio Grande do Sul. She left there to go to high school in the city and then passed the vestibular (entrance exam) in the field of geography at the Federal University of Santa Maria, where she graduated in 2007.
“I wanted to do research on my quilombo, to do a master’s degree, but there in Rio Grande do Sul, at the time, I didn’t find anyone to advise me on this topic. I discovered that in Paraná there was a professor at the Federal University of Paraná, in the Graduate Program in Education, who was researching the subject. I passed the master’s program and came to study here,” Edimara said.
Professor Tânia Maria Baibich was her advisor on her master’s degree and doctorate. “My master’s thesis was considered unprecedented in Brazil and did at the University what we called up-grade. I went straight to a doctorate,” explained Edimara.
Possibilities and challenges
For doctoral research the professor sent questionnaires to teachers, staff and leaders of quilombo communities of Paraná. Also did several interviews with these people in the initial and continuing education courses offered by the Department of Education about the possibilities and challenges of implementing the Quilombola Education School policy.
There were two years in the field collecting information. All the accumulated knowledge is now passed on in training courses for teachers.
The Superintendent of Education, Fabiana Campos, stressed the importance of the state network relying on a specialized professional working directly in the field where she studied. “This shows the whole appreciation of the process. A person who prepared herself, researched, specialized and will now transmit this qualified knowledge,” said the superintendent.
Source: Secretaria da educação – Governo do Estado do Paraná
http://blackwomenofbrazil.co/2015/1...lave-regime-becomes-the-first-to-earn-a-ph-d/
Edimara Soares
Note from BW of Brazil: The history of the quilombo is an important piece in the struggle of Afro-Brazilians. These independent communities were established by fugitives escaping the cruelty and brutality of Brazil’s slave regime. Some of these communities grew to be quite heavily populated and even maintained their independence despite continuous attempts of slave masters to re-capture slaves and destroy these communities. The most famous of them all was undoubtedly Palmares led by the legendary Zumbi and his wife Dandara in the 17th century. Today,throughout Brazil there remain numerous leftover communities of the sort where descendants of these revolutionaries continue to struggle for the legal rights to these lands. As these struggles continue, recently, in the southern state of Paraná, one descendant of these quilombolas made her mark in the history books for an individual accomplishment that deserves recognition. Her story below.
Paraná has the first quilombo Ph.D in Brazil
Courtesy of Secretaria da educação – Governo do Estado do Paraná
Edimara Soares is the first quilombo inhabitant of the state of Paraná to earn a Ph.D
The Department of Diversity of the Ministry of Education of the state of Paraná has its first quilombola Ph.D in Brazil. The professor of the state network of education Edimara Soares finished her doctorate in 2012 at the Federal University of Paraná (UFPR), after defending her thesis “Educação Escolar Quilombola: quando a diferença é indiferente” (Quilombola School Education: When the difference is indifferent).
The knowledge that she gained during her research is disseminated and discussed in courses on quilombola school education. The Department of Diversity has existed since 2008 in the Department of Education, and Edimara Soares works in the coordination of the ethno-racial education diversity relations.
Paraná has two state schools that operate within quilombola communities, Colégio Estadual Quilombola Diogo Ramos, in the João Surá community in Adrianópoli and Escola Estadual Quilombola Maria Joana Ferreira, in Adelaide Maria da Trindade Batista community in Palmas.
In addition, another 43 state schools serve students who live in quilombola communities. Paraná has 37 communities certified by the Fundação Cultural Palmares (Palmares Cultural Foundation), an agency of the federal government, such as the quilombo remnants.
“Paraná is reference in quilombo school education. Other states are beginning to discuss it, and here we already have specific educational projects for the quilombola schools,” said Edimara Soares.
Articulation of knowledge
Edimara devoted four years to her studies, two in field research in quilombo state schools of Paraná and in Vake do Ribeira communities, Palmas and Guaíra. “In my research I dealt with the importance of education in the quilombos, in how to make the articulation of knowledge of the quilombo community with the scientific knowledge produced by mankind,” says the Ph.D Emimara Soares.
Edimara lived up to 15 years in the Estância do Meio/Timbaúva quilombo, located in the city of Formigueiro, on the interior of the state of Rio Grande do Sul. She left there to go to high school in the city and then passed the vestibular (entrance exam) in the field of geography at the Federal University of Santa Maria, where she graduated in 2007.
“I wanted to do research on my quilombo, to do a master’s degree, but there in Rio Grande do Sul, at the time, I didn’t find anyone to advise me on this topic. I discovered that in Paraná there was a professor at the Federal University of Paraná, in the Graduate Program in Education, who was researching the subject. I passed the master’s program and came to study here,” Edimara said.
Professor Tânia Maria Baibich was her advisor on her master’s degree and doctorate. “My master’s thesis was considered unprecedented in Brazil and did at the University what we called up-grade. I went straight to a doctorate,” explained Edimara.
Possibilities and challenges
For doctoral research the professor sent questionnaires to teachers, staff and leaders of quilombo communities of Paraná. Also did several interviews with these people in the initial and continuing education courses offered by the Department of Education about the possibilities and challenges of implementing the Quilombola Education School policy.
There were two years in the field collecting information. All the accumulated knowledge is now passed on in training courses for teachers.
The Superintendent of Education, Fabiana Campos, stressed the importance of the state network relying on a specialized professional working directly in the field where she studied. “This shows the whole appreciation of the process. A person who prepared herself, researched, specialized and will now transmit this qualified knowledge,” said the superintendent.
Source: Secretaria da educação – Governo do Estado do Paraná
http://blackwomenofbrazil.co/2015/1...lave-regime-becomes-the-first-to-earn-a-ph-d/
The Movimento das Mulheres Negras Capixabas: The Black Woman’s Movement of Espírito Santo
The Black Woman’s Movement of Espírito Santo fight for the empowerment of black women
Note from BW of Brazil: The struggle of black Brazilian women to be simply recognized as black women, change the public perception as well as the social position of black women is one that affects this parcel of the population throughout the country. But while the struggle is the same, the principal voices and oragnizations of this struggle tend to be dominated by cities such as Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo, Belo Horizonte and Salvador. But with the power of internet, black women of other, lesser known regions of the country are making their voices heard as well. In past articles, we´ve presented the struggle of mulheres afro-brasileiras (Afro-Brazilian women) in states such as Ceará, Maranhão, Paraná, Rio Grande do Sul, Piauí, Santa Catarina as well as the Federal District. Today, we bring you a report about black women sharing their struggle from the southeastern state of Espírito Santo.
The black woman’s struggle
By Viviane Machado
Besides prejudice against women, black women confront existent sexism and racism in the state of Espírito Santo. According to the militant of the Movimento de Mulheres Negras (Black Women’s Movement) and the Coletivo Negrada (Negrada Collective), Mirt’s Sants, the majority of the cases of violence against women are against black women.
“In our state the majority who die are black women. Being by racism or sexism. We understand that it is the two. The black woman already lives in a periphery situation, possesses an education still with a discrepancy. Besides this, if white women received less than men, black women receive still less than white women,” she said
“We want black woman to be the protagonist in her life. We don’t stop speaking of the hardships, but it’s the empowerment that motivates us.” – Mirt’s Sant’s
Movimento das Mulheres Negras do Espírito Santo
The Movimento das Mulheres Negras do Espírito Santo (Black Women’s Movement of Espírito Santo) works for the goal of empowering. “We work with self-affirmation, identification and in fact even a support group, because, often times, there is no space of discussion focused on black women. We worked last year in roundtables and conversations,” she pointed out.
In spite of all the negative points that involve the treatment of women in the state, Mirt’s explains that the group prefers organize around positive and strong points. “We want the black woman to be the protagonist of her life. We don’t stop speaking of the hardships, but it’s empowerment that motivates us to continue the struggle,” she said.
Mirt’s Sant’s (at left)
On the group’s actions, the militant revealed that projects are developed periodically. “We developed a project last year on São Benedito hill. We did a roundtable with the women of the community in which we spoke on the question of the woman and her relation with her children,” she said.
Griots of Dance: strengthening of capixabas black women
Griots dance. With the initial idea of practicing Afro-Brazilian dance in the halls of the Museu Capixaba do Negro, veteran black women in the movement of black men and women of Vitória, Espírito Santostarted a weekly meeting that quickly became one of the most active movements in the state capital.
by Ariane Celestino Meireles via Portal Geledés
Resistance, struggle, human rights with respect and dignity
The circle of Griôs begins with a nominal presentation, where each speaks of herself and “invites” to the circle absent women that were meaningful to their lives. This invitation is sometimes verbal, sometimes just mentalized. And there begins the power of women to reverberate across the dance room. Mothers, grandmothers, healers, artists, children, teachers and other women are invited. Those who did cafuné (ran their fingers) in theircabelos crespos (curly/kinky hair) when children. Those who offered a piece of bolo de fubá (cornmeal cake) when the smell pervaded the street. All entered the circle and begin the dance of Orixás, always initiated by a female voice, ranging from Clementina de Jesus to Clara Nunes, passing through other artists who lend their songs to the Griôs da Dança group, including local black artists. After an hour of dancing, the circle continues with the stories of inspiring black women for the life of all.
Dança afro (African dance) for women, which has transformed itself into the open group Griôs da Dança, had its beginning with women over 40 who wished to get together to have each other’s company, fortify themselves and work out through dance. The storytelling was the principle mark of the small dance group, which quickly grew when several young women and even children started to attend the meetings. And they only enriched what was already good.
In these meetings, many black women have revealed having recognized themselves as black (1) from the stories they heard, and came to respect the religious and cultural traditions of black populations from the dances of the Orixás. These women, with firm and rather strengthened voices, brought to the circles submitting their own stories of submission only revealed there. And they spoke of the coping strategies of experienced submissions. They also brought stories from other women who went on to do research from the stimuli received at the meetings. In this way, in the circle, the life stories of Nina Simone, Benedita da Silva, Carolina Maria de Jesus, Lélia Gonzáles and many other black women of the city, the country and the world were known.
The collective of Griôs da Dança, born in May 2014, continues to reveal inspiring stories of women who came to compose a part of the life of each. Thus, facing racism and other oppressions became their commitment and also with respect to other women who compose them. And they continue dancing, storytelling and changing lives. For the better.
Blessings to all Griôs with the desire for long life!
Ariane is a professor of Afro-Brazilian dance; has a Master’s degree in Social Policy; she is an activist of social movements of black men and women in the state of Espírito Santo.
Source: Portal Geledés, G1
Note
The Movimento das Mulheres Negras Capixabas: The Black Woman's Movement of Espírito Santo
The Black Woman’s Movement of Espírito Santo fight for the empowerment of black women
Note from BW of Brazil: The struggle of black Brazilian women to be simply recognized as black women, change the public perception as well as the social position of black women is one that affects this parcel of the population throughout the country. But while the struggle is the same, the principal voices and oragnizations of this struggle tend to be dominated by cities such as Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo, Belo Horizonte and Salvador. But with the power of internet, black women of other, lesser known regions of the country are making their voices heard as well. In past articles, we´ve presented the struggle of mulheres afro-brasileiras (Afro-Brazilian women) in states such as Ceará, Maranhão, Paraná, Rio Grande do Sul, Piauí, Santa Catarina as well as the Federal District. Today, we bring you a report about black women sharing their struggle from the southeastern state of Espírito Santo.
The black woman’s struggle
By Viviane Machado
Besides prejudice against women, black women confront existent sexism and racism in the state of Espírito Santo. According to the militant of the Movimento de Mulheres Negras (Black Women’s Movement) and the Coletivo Negrada (Negrada Collective), Mirt’s Sants, the majority of the cases of violence against women are against black women.
“In our state the majority who die are black women. Being by racism or sexism. We understand that it is the two. The black woman already lives in a periphery situation, possesses an education still with a discrepancy. Besides this, if white women received less than men, black women receive still less than white women,” she said
“We want black woman to be the protagonist in her life. We don’t stop speaking of the hardships, but it’s the empowerment that motivates us.” – Mirt’s Sant’s
Movimento das Mulheres Negras do Espírito Santo
The Movimento das Mulheres Negras do Espírito Santo (Black Women’s Movement of Espírito Santo) works for the goal of empowering. “We work with self-affirmation, identification and in fact even a support group, because, often times, there is no space of discussion focused on black women. We worked last year in roundtables and conversations,” she pointed out.
In spite of all the negative points that involve the treatment of women in the state, Mirt’s explains that the group prefers organize around positive and strong points. “We want the black woman to be the protagonist of her life. We don’t stop speaking of the hardships, but it’s empowerment that motivates us to continue the struggle,” she said.
Mirt’s Sant’s (at left)
On the group’s actions, the militant revealed that projects are developed periodically. “We developed a project last year on São Benedito hill. We did a roundtable with the women of the community in which we spoke on the question of the woman and her relation with her children,” she said.
Griots of Dance: strengthening of capixabas black women
Griots dance. With the initial idea of practicing Afro-Brazilian dance in the halls of the Museu Capixaba do Negro, veteran black women in the movement of black men and women of Vitória, Espírito Santostarted a weekly meeting that quickly became one of the most active movements in the state capital.
by Ariane Celestino Meireles via Portal Geledés
Resistance, struggle, human rights with respect and dignity
The circle of Griôs begins with a nominal presentation, where each speaks of herself and “invites” to the circle absent women that were meaningful to their lives. This invitation is sometimes verbal, sometimes just mentalized. And there begins the power of women to reverberate across the dance room. Mothers, grandmothers, healers, artists, children, teachers and other women are invited. Those who did cafuné (ran their fingers) in theircabelos crespos (curly/kinky hair) when children. Those who offered a piece of bolo de fubá (cornmeal cake) when the smell pervaded the street. All entered the circle and begin the dance of Orixás, always initiated by a female voice, ranging from Clementina de Jesus to Clara Nunes, passing through other artists who lend their songs to the Griôs da Dança group, including local black artists. After an hour of dancing, the circle continues with the stories of inspiring black women for the life of all.
Dança afro (African dance) for women, which has transformed itself into the open group Griôs da Dança, had its beginning with women over 40 who wished to get together to have each other’s company, fortify themselves and work out through dance. The storytelling was the principle mark of the small dance group, which quickly grew when several young women and even children started to attend the meetings. And they only enriched what was already good.
In these meetings, many black women have revealed having recognized themselves as black (1) from the stories they heard, and came to respect the religious and cultural traditions of black populations from the dances of the Orixás. These women, with firm and rather strengthened voices, brought to the circles submitting their own stories of submission only revealed there. And they spoke of the coping strategies of experienced submissions. They also brought stories from other women who went on to do research from the stimuli received at the meetings. In this way, in the circle, the life stories of Nina Simone, Benedita da Silva, Carolina Maria de Jesus, Lélia Gonzáles and many other black women of the city, the country and the world were known.
The collective of Griôs da Dança, born in May 2014, continues to reveal inspiring stories of women who came to compose a part of the life of each. Thus, facing racism and other oppressions became their commitment and also with respect to other women who compose them. And they continue dancing, storytelling and changing lives. For the better.
Blessings to all Griôs with the desire for long life!
Ariane is a professor of Afro-Brazilian dance; has a Master’s degree in Social Policy; she is an activist of social movements of black men and women in the state of Espírito Santo.
Source: Portal Geledés, G1
Note
The Movimento das Mulheres Negras Capixabas: The Black Woman's Movement of Espírito Santo
Nêga Rosa Project increases income of black women in Rio communities. Women sew, cook and give turban workshops; works to be featured in 2016 Olympics
Instructor Jurema Ferreira and students, Viviane Carrera and Andrea Soares, in a turban workshop, participate in the Nêga Rosa project, which serves women in Rio de Janeiro Communities (Tomaz Silva/Agência Brasil)
Note from BW of Brazil: In recent years, numerous projects, programs and seminars focused on black culture and entrepreneurial enterprises have changed the lives of numerous Afro-Brazilians, bringing opportunities that simply didn’t exist just a few decades ago. While many of these projects have helped their beneficiaries to earn enough income to help make their lives just a little easier or further the expansion ofthe growing ethnic market, some have been able to capitalize on opportunities and business savvy to earn enough income to move into Brazil’s upper middle and upper classes. Below, we bring you yet another inspiring story that is changing the lives of numerous black women in Rio de Janeiro as they continue preparation for the 2016 Olympics.
Project increases income of black women in Rio communities
By Akemi Nitahara and Marcos Xavier Vicente
They sew, cook, give workshops and attend events where they sell their products, teach the tying of turbans and talk about cultural identity. These are some of the activities of Nêga Rosa project, developed in seven areas of Rio de Janeiro and directly serving 240 women in the communities of Mangueira, Barreira do Vasco, Chatuba de Mesquita, Arará, Jacarezinho, Manguinhos and Tuiuti.
Starting from the work of 120 women with low education, 29 of them from the prison system and 20 with cancer, the project will provide 5,200 of 22,700 cushions that athletes will use in the Vila Olímpica (Olympic Village). Because of the Olympics, the project’s production will increase 40% and the income of seamstresses will rise from R$400 to approximately R$1,500.
“This represents a lot for these women, since nearly 90 of them support their children alone, without the help of a companion,” argues the manager of the Nêga Rosa projects, Érica Portillo.
According to the project coordinator, Érica Portilho, working towards women’s empowerment through entrepreneurship and development of identity, black women in situations of socially vulnerability, ex-convicts, single mothers and special needs women were able to increase their monthly income per capita.
To participate in the project, those interested had to fill in forms. “From this we make a selection. The others are on a waiting list. But, as we have several open activities, they also end up participating and, if anyone quits, they will be engaged and we’ll managing partnerships in other territories,” said the coordinator.
Rio de Janeiro – Erica Portillo, project coordinator Nêga Rosa, which serves women in communities of Rio de Janeiro (Tomaz Silva/Agência Brasil)
Érica explains that the idea is to disseminate as much as possible the knowledge passed on by the project, which has received the a prize from the Fundação Banco do Brasil (Bank Foundation of Brazil), of Favela Criativa. “If we managed to develop a social technology that has been recognized by such an important foundation, we think it should be disseminated. We’re going to the territory, do a practice of one week, 20 hours, and then those women are ready to teach and multiply for other women.”
Andrea Soares sews, promotes a turban workshop and also participates in the coordination of Nêga Rosa. For her, one of the most important points of the project is the redeeming of the self-esteem of the black women of the community. “Making a redemption of their citizenship, because today we have within the school study of the culture of another ethnic group, but this is not contemplated, so with this children in the community are without identification. So the idea is to bring this identification to older people so they can also replicate it with their children.”
Vanice Carrera saw in the project an opportunity to make jams to sell (Tomaz Silva/Agência Brasil)
One of the project participants, Vanice Carrera, stitching and cooking, says the Nêga Rosa gave strength and motivation to help her overcome cancer facing for more than two years. “I had a health problem and was very still. And that to me fit like a glove, I can’t sit still, I have a broth to make, I have a jam, sweets to deliver, some seams. For me it’s being very good, passing on to others what I have learned. I’m doing chemotherapy. So here’s what’s maintaining me, it’s very good not to stop, [it’s good] to know that, even with problems, you still have forces, you’re being useful, producing.”
Érica points out that the workspaces assembled by the project, with kitchen and sewing machines, can also be used by women to produce and supply to customers independently of Nêga Rosa. In Mangueira, for example, where the work began a year ago, hair bands and hats for the souvenir shop of the community’s escola de samba(samba school) are made.
According to the coordinator, the project is also looking for partnerships in the area of e-commerce and in November starts working with girls 12-18 years old who meet socio-educational measures in the General Department of Socio-Educational Actions (DEGASE). On October 31st, the Nêga Rosa project will host a fair in Rio de Janeiro State University (UERJ) during the Conferência de Juventude (Youth Conference), in which 30 entrepreneurs of the state of Rio de Janeiro will be present.
Kely Maria Silva, 48, already knows what she’ll do with the extra income: devote more time to family recreation. “I want more take my grandson for a walk, go to the movies, the mall and have lunch out more often with my husband and my children. It’s great to know that we work in order to do this,” said Kely, one of the oldest members of the project.
The pieces follow the standardization of the Comitê Rio-2016 (Rio 2016 Committee) in terms of colors. However, the seamstresses are free to create the design that will be on one of the cushion faces – in the case of Nêga Rosa, with elements of Afro-Brazilian culture. On the other, there will be a text explaining the project so that athletes learn about the initiative.
Jurema da Silva, 55, unemployed for 15, promises not tear her eyes away from the television during the Olympics. In addition to tracking competition, she will be attentive if any athlete doesn’t appear taking home a souvenir of the cushion she made. “Can you imagine if an athlete appears with the cushion I made? I’ll be very proud,” said Jurema, who has a preference for one in particular: volleyball player Lucarelli. “Besides being a dedicated young man, he is very handsome,” she says.
But to try to find her cushion on television, Jurema will have to get a new pair of glasses, which she hasn’t changed since 1996. “With the money from the cushions, I’ll buy a new one,” she says of her plans for the money.
Other work is being done for the Olympic Committee Rio 2016. Nêga Rosa won an edital for a printing press that will provide 5,000 cushions for the accommodation of athletes. “There were four winning projects. Our stamp is a samambaia do mangue (mangrove fern), a plant of Brazilian vegetation. Behind the cushion, tells the story of the project, in Portuguese and English and will be a cushion for athletes to take to the whole world,” said Érica.
Source: Agência Brasil, Gazeta do Povo
Nêga Rosa Project increases income of black women in Rio communities. Women sew, cook and give turban workshops; works to be featured in 2016 Olympics
Instructor Jurema Ferreira and students, Viviane Carrera and Andrea Soares, in a turban workshop, participate in the Nêga Rosa project, which serves women in Rio de Janeiro Communities (Tomaz Silva/Agência Brasil)
Note from BW of Brazil: In recent years, numerous projects, programs and seminars focused on black culture and entrepreneurial enterprises have changed the lives of numerous Afro-Brazilians, bringing opportunities that simply didn’t exist just a few decades ago. While many of these projects have helped their beneficiaries to earn enough income to help make their lives just a little easier or further the expansion ofthe growing ethnic market, some have been able to capitalize on opportunities and business savvy to earn enough income to move into Brazil’s upper middle and upper classes. Below, we bring you yet another inspiring story that is changing the lives of numerous black women in Rio de Janeiro as they continue preparation for the 2016 Olympics.
Project increases income of black women in Rio communities
By Akemi Nitahara and Marcos Xavier Vicente
They sew, cook, give workshops and attend events where they sell their products, teach the tying of turbans and talk about cultural identity. These are some of the activities of Nêga Rosa project, developed in seven areas of Rio de Janeiro and directly serving 240 women in the communities of Mangueira, Barreira do Vasco, Chatuba de Mesquita, Arará, Jacarezinho, Manguinhos and Tuiuti.
Starting from the work of 120 women with low education, 29 of them from the prison system and 20 with cancer, the project will provide 5,200 of 22,700 cushions that athletes will use in the Vila Olímpica (Olympic Village). Because of the Olympics, the project’s production will increase 40% and the income of seamstresses will rise from R$400 to approximately R$1,500.
“This represents a lot for these women, since nearly 90 of them support their children alone, without the help of a companion,” argues the manager of the Nêga Rosa projects, Érica Portillo.
According to the project coordinator, Érica Portilho, working towards women’s empowerment through entrepreneurship and development of identity, black women in situations of socially vulnerability, ex-convicts, single mothers and special needs women were able to increase their monthly income per capita.
To participate in the project, those interested had to fill in forms. “From this we make a selection. The others are on a waiting list. But, as we have several open activities, they also end up participating and, if anyone quits, they will be engaged and we’ll managing partnerships in other territories,” said the coordinator.
Rio de Janeiro – Erica Portillo, project coordinator Nêga Rosa, which serves women in communities of Rio de Janeiro (Tomaz Silva/Agência Brasil)
Érica explains that the idea is to disseminate as much as possible the knowledge passed on by the project, which has received the a prize from the Fundação Banco do Brasil (Bank Foundation of Brazil), of Favela Criativa. “If we managed to develop a social technology that has been recognized by such an important foundation, we think it should be disseminated. We’re going to the territory, do a practice of one week, 20 hours, and then those women are ready to teach and multiply for other women.”
Andrea Soares sews, promotes a turban workshop and also participates in the coordination of Nêga Rosa. For her, one of the most important points of the project is the redeeming of the self-esteem of the black women of the community. “Making a redemption of their citizenship, because today we have within the school study of the culture of another ethnic group, but this is not contemplated, so with this children in the community are without identification. So the idea is to bring this identification to older people so they can also replicate it with their children.”
Vanice Carrera saw in the project an opportunity to make jams to sell (Tomaz Silva/Agência Brasil)
One of the project participants, Vanice Carrera, stitching and cooking, says the Nêga Rosa gave strength and motivation to help her overcome cancer facing for more than two years. “I had a health problem and was very still. And that to me fit like a glove, I can’t sit still, I have a broth to make, I have a jam, sweets to deliver, some seams. For me it’s being very good, passing on to others what I have learned. I’m doing chemotherapy. So here’s what’s maintaining me, it’s very good not to stop, [it’s good] to know that, even with problems, you still have forces, you’re being useful, producing.”
Érica points out that the workspaces assembled by the project, with kitchen and sewing machines, can also be used by women to produce and supply to customers independently of Nêga Rosa. In Mangueira, for example, where the work began a year ago, hair bands and hats for the souvenir shop of the community’s escola de samba(samba school) are made.
According to the coordinator, the project is also looking for partnerships in the area of e-commerce and in November starts working with girls 12-18 years old who meet socio-educational measures in the General Department of Socio-Educational Actions (DEGASE). On October 31st, the Nêga Rosa project will host a fair in Rio de Janeiro State University (UERJ) during the Conferência de Juventude (Youth Conference), in which 30 entrepreneurs of the state of Rio de Janeiro will be present.
Kely Maria Silva, 48, already knows what she’ll do with the extra income: devote more time to family recreation. “I want more take my grandson for a walk, go to the movies, the mall and have lunch out more often with my husband and my children. It’s great to know that we work in order to do this,” said Kely, one of the oldest members of the project.
The pieces follow the standardization of the Comitê Rio-2016 (Rio 2016 Committee) in terms of colors. However, the seamstresses are free to create the design that will be on one of the cushion faces – in the case of Nêga Rosa, with elements of Afro-Brazilian culture. On the other, there will be a text explaining the project so that athletes learn about the initiative.
Jurema da Silva, 55, unemployed for 15, promises not tear her eyes away from the television during the Olympics. In addition to tracking competition, she will be attentive if any athlete doesn’t appear taking home a souvenir of the cushion she made. “Can you imagine if an athlete appears with the cushion I made? I’ll be very proud,” said Jurema, who has a preference for one in particular: volleyball player Lucarelli. “Besides being a dedicated young man, he is very handsome,” she says.
But to try to find her cushion on television, Jurema will have to get a new pair of glasses, which she hasn’t changed since 1996. “With the money from the cushions, I’ll buy a new one,” she says of her plans for the money.
Other work is being done for the Olympic Committee Rio 2016. Nêga Rosa won an edital for a printing press that will provide 5,000 cushions for the accommodation of athletes. “There were four winning projects. Our stamp is a samambaia do mangue (mangrove fern), a plant of Brazilian vegetation. Behind the cushion, tells the story of the project, in Portuguese and English and will be a cushion for athletes to take to the whole world,” said Érica.
Source: Agência Brasil, Gazeta do Povo
Nêga Rosa Project increases income of black women in Rio communities. Women sew, cook and give turban workshops; works to be featured in 2016 Olympics
Guilhermina and Candelário’ is the first cartoon to feature a majority of black characters on Brazilian television
Note from BW of Brazil: Brazil’s media has long had a problem with showing the diversity of its population in the mainstream. And in a society in which skin color, hair texture and other racial characteristics play an important role in the way people will be seen and treated and ultimately influence their success in life, black children have very few reflections in which to identify themselves and thus not internalize negative stereotypes about the group to which they belong. The under-representation of black people can be noted in the ever popular TV novelas (soap operas), the movies, news programs and even the cartoons. But recently, new ground was broken in regards to children’s cartoons as a new series with a cast of black characters was recently released in the nation’s capital city. Judging from the comments of some of the children, it was quite refreshing to see characters that reminded them of themselves. Hopefully, this is not the only series that portrays the black population. After all, decades of invisibility cannot be erased with only one series, but it IS a start.
Cartoon that appreciates black culture will appear in TV
It deals with one of the first cartoons of its kind with black protagonists on Brazilian television. In honor of Dia das Crianças (Children’s Day), TV Brasil shows four episodes in sequence, at 9:45 am and 1pm
By Portal EBC
The siblings Guilhermina and Candelário are laughing and very imaginative. They are black and live on the shores of a beach in their grandparents’ house. They spend the day playing, making discoveries and inventing things. The siblings Guilhermina and Candelário make up a black family, much like millions of Brazilian families, currently underrepresented in the media.
It is one of the first cartoons of its kind with black protagonists to appear on free Brazilian TV.
And starting on the 12th, they will delight the audience with the integration of the programming of Hora da Criança (Children’s Hour) on TV Brasil. In honor of Hora da Criança, four episodes will be shown in sequence, at 9:45 am and 1pm.
As of Tuesday, the 13th, the cartoon will air from Monday to Saturday during Hora da Criança.
Children comment on the debut of Guilhermina e Candelário, a new cartoon on TV Brasil
By Adriana Franzin
Siblings Guilhermina and Candelário are part of a black family, much like millions of Brazilian families, currently underrepresented in the Brazilian media, especially in children’s cartoons. But starting on the 12th, it will be every morning on TV Brasil. The Colombian animation (1) joins the Hora da Criança (Children’s Hour), which airs on Monday to Saturday morning on TV Brasil. Check out the show times.
Friday, 10, in Brasilia, an event the cartoon’s release was held.
Many children attended the showing of the new cartoon
Children in the audience gave their opinion of the debut of a “different” cartoon because it shows black children on the screen.
“I thought it was cool because it has black characters and Brazilian television has more white people,” opined David da Costa.
“And that means that everyday black society is taking another step,” added Pedro de Souza.
In the video on the release of the Guilhermina e Candelário cartoon in Brasilia, the children share their opinion. The series, of 20 episodes of 12 minutes is a co-production of Señal Colombia with Fosfenos Media.
Guilhermina e Candelário: Meet the characters design
By TV Brasil
In their adventures they are always creating creative solutions to the problems that arise, giving wings to the unlimited child ingenuity. They experience quite ordinary situations to the everyday reality of Brazilian children.
GUILHERMINA – An 8-year old girl, she’s very outgoing, affectionate, and loves to make new friends. For being the darling of her grandfather Faustino, she takes advantage of the situation to create some mischief. She is also very curious and has a fertile imagination. She always asks questions about situations around her. She spends most of her time with her older brother, Candelario, who helps her feel more secure in new situations. She has a big dream: to be the captain of a big ship.
CANDELÁRIO- An 8-year old boy, he’s very intelligent and creative. He has a great sense of humor, which sometimes makes him a naughty boy that takes advantage because of being the big brother to play pranks on his younger sister, Guillermina. He attends the third grade in school, his favorite subject is math. He dreams of being a great engineer to make big constructions. The little boy is a perfectionist and sometimes gets frustrated by not achieving his goals.
AVÔ FAUSTINO (GRANDPA FAUSTINO) – He is an experienced fisherman of 70 years. Very calm, he is a good storyteller. He usually like to share his exciting marine and coastal experiences with his grandchildren, Guilhermina and Candelario. He’s a great musician and supporter of cultural traditions of his people. He knows the outskirts of the beach like the back of his hand, besides being a great connoisseur of the sea, in which he faced large storms, hurricanes and even sharks. On many occasions he is very permissive with his grandchildren, what costs him placing limits on the desires of the little ones. He always seeks to give advice to his grandchildren, sharing his vast experience of life.
AVÓ FRANCISCA (Grandma Francisa) is a woman of 58 years, full of life, cheerful and affectionate with her grandchildren. She enjoys the tranquility of the beach, the friendship of her neighbors and the company of Grandpa Faustino who respects and supports her decisions. She’s a great cook of typical dishes of the region, and this passion for cooking was passed to her grandson Candelario, who when he has the opportunity to help his grandmother prepare a dish. She is also a great artisan, works with natural fibers, creating hats, baskets and furniture, awakening this taste in her granddaughter Guilhermina. His great passion is taking care of her grandchildren.
AURORA – Nice, observant and thoughtful. Candelario’s classmate. Just like him he is very studious, having much affinity for the social sciences. Her big dream is to become a nurse as an adult. Greatest fears: the beach, animals and typical insects of the region where she lives.
CAMILO – Restless and mischievous. For being too stubborn, he is learning to deal with the consequences of his actions. She has a little dog, Luna, that he considers a family member. He dreams of being a great carpenter like his father, Ismael. In his spare time, he likes to play with his friends, Guilhermina and Candelario.
ISMAEL – Father of Aurora and Camilo, he is passionate about his work – carpentry, an art he inherited from his family. Ismael is a demanding father, so his relationship with his kids is reserved. By working from home, he likes to share his free time with his family. His greatest dream is to see them grow up happy and keep the family together.
ROSITA – Very hardworking, kind and caring; a devoted mother who worries about her children, Aurora and Camilo. For her, the beach is the ideal place to raise children. In her free time, she is dedicated to gardening. She has a good relationship with Grandma Francisca, that welcomes her with great affection.
LUNA – An affectionate and playful puppy. An inseparable friend of Camille. Always in search of new adventures, seeks to hide bones in neighborhood gardens and running after beach animals.
Source: EBC, Revista Forum
Note
Note from BW of Brazil: Brazil’s media has long had a problem with showing the diversity of its population in the mainstream. And in a society in which skin color, hair texture and other racial characteristics play an important role in the way people will be seen and treated and ultimately influence their success in life, black children have very few reflections in which to identify themselves and thus not internalize negative stereotypes about the group to which they belong. The under-representation of black people can be noted in the ever popular TV novelas (soap operas), the movies, news programs and even the cartoons. But recently, new ground was broken in regards to children’s cartoons as a new series with a cast of black characters was recently released in the nation’s capital city. Judging from the comments of some of the children, it was quite refreshing to see characters that reminded them of themselves. Hopefully, this is not the only series that portrays the black population. After all, decades of invisibility cannot be erased with only one series, but it IS a start.
Cartoon that appreciates black culture will appear in TV
It deals with one of the first cartoons of its kind with black protagonists on Brazilian television. In honor of Dia das Crianças (Children’s Day), TV Brasil shows four episodes in sequence, at 9:45 am and 1pm
By Portal EBC
The siblings Guilhermina and Candelário are laughing and very imaginative. They are black and live on the shores of a beach in their grandparents’ house. They spend the day playing, making discoveries and inventing things. The siblings Guilhermina and Candelário make up a black family, much like millions of Brazilian families, currently underrepresented in the media.
It is one of the first cartoons of its kind with black protagonists to appear on free Brazilian TV.
And starting on the 12th, they will delight the audience with the integration of the programming of Hora da Criança (Children’s Hour) on TV Brasil. In honor of Hora da Criança, four episodes will be shown in sequence, at 9:45 am and 1pm.
As of Tuesday, the 13th, the cartoon will air from Monday to Saturday during Hora da Criança.
Children comment on the debut of Guilhermina e Candelário, a new cartoon on TV Brasil
By Adriana Franzin
Siblings Guilhermina and Candelário are part of a black family, much like millions of Brazilian families, currently underrepresented in the Brazilian media, especially in children’s cartoons. But starting on the 12th, it will be every morning on TV Brasil. The Colombian animation (1) joins the Hora da Criança (Children’s Hour), which airs on Monday to Saturday morning on TV Brasil. Check out the show times.
Friday, 10, in Brasilia, an event the cartoon’s release was held.
Many children attended the showing of the new cartoon
Children in the audience gave their opinion of the debut of a “different” cartoon because it shows black children on the screen.
“I thought it was cool because it has black characters and Brazilian television has more white people,” opined David da Costa.
“And that means that everyday black society is taking another step,” added Pedro de Souza.
In the video on the release of the Guilhermina e Candelário cartoon in Brasilia, the children share their opinion. The series, of 20 episodes of 12 minutes is a co-production of Señal Colombia with Fosfenos Media.
Guilhermina e Candelário: Meet the characters design
By TV Brasil
In their adventures they are always creating creative solutions to the problems that arise, giving wings to the unlimited child ingenuity. They experience quite ordinary situations to the everyday reality of Brazilian children.
GUILHERMINA – An 8-year old girl, she’s very outgoing, affectionate, and loves to make new friends. For being the darling of her grandfather Faustino, she takes advantage of the situation to create some mischief. She is also very curious and has a fertile imagination. She always asks questions about situations around her. She spends most of her time with her older brother, Candelario, who helps her feel more secure in new situations. She has a big dream: to be the captain of a big ship.
CANDELÁRIO- An 8-year old boy, he’s very intelligent and creative. He has a great sense of humor, which sometimes makes him a naughty boy that takes advantage because of being the big brother to play pranks on his younger sister, Guillermina. He attends the third grade in school, his favorite subject is math. He dreams of being a great engineer to make big constructions. The little boy is a perfectionist and sometimes gets frustrated by not achieving his goals.
AVÔ FAUSTINO (GRANDPA FAUSTINO) – He is an experienced fisherman of 70 years. Very calm, he is a good storyteller. He usually like to share his exciting marine and coastal experiences with his grandchildren, Guilhermina and Candelario. He’s a great musician and supporter of cultural traditions of his people. He knows the outskirts of the beach like the back of his hand, besides being a great connoisseur of the sea, in which he faced large storms, hurricanes and even sharks. On many occasions he is very permissive with his grandchildren, what costs him placing limits on the desires of the little ones. He always seeks to give advice to his grandchildren, sharing his vast experience of life.
AVÓ FRANCISCA (Grandma Francisa) is a woman of 58 years, full of life, cheerful and affectionate with her grandchildren. She enjoys the tranquility of the beach, the friendship of her neighbors and the company of Grandpa Faustino who respects and supports her decisions. She’s a great cook of typical dishes of the region, and this passion for cooking was passed to her grandson Candelario, who when he has the opportunity to help his grandmother prepare a dish. She is also a great artisan, works with natural fibers, creating hats, baskets and furniture, awakening this taste in her granddaughter Guilhermina. His great passion is taking care of her grandchildren.
AURORA – Nice, observant and thoughtful. Candelario’s classmate. Just like him he is very studious, having much affinity for the social sciences. Her big dream is to become a nurse as an adult. Greatest fears: the beach, animals and typical insects of the region where she lives.
CAMILO – Restless and mischievous. For being too stubborn, he is learning to deal with the consequences of his actions. She has a little dog, Luna, that he considers a family member. He dreams of being a great carpenter like his father, Ismael. In his spare time, he likes to play with his friends, Guilhermina and Candelario.
ISMAEL – Father of Aurora and Camilo, he is passionate about his work – carpentry, an art he inherited from his family. Ismael is a demanding father, so his relationship with his kids is reserved. By working from home, he likes to share his free time with his family. His greatest dream is to see them grow up happy and keep the family together.
ROSITA – Very hardworking, kind and caring; a devoted mother who worries about her children, Aurora and Camilo. For her, the beach is the ideal place to raise children. In her free time, she is dedicated to gardening. She has a good relationship with Grandma Francisca, that welcomes her with great affection.
LUNA – An affectionate and playful puppy. An inseparable friend of Camille. Always in search of new adventures, seeks to hide bones in neighborhood gardens and running after beach animals.
Source: EBC, Revista Forum
Note
- Intriguing how the program is yet another foreign production. While TV Brasil should be given credit for adding the cartoon to its programming, it continues a pattern on Brazilian television. Most TV programs that Brazilians see that feature a majority black cast are foreign productions, the vast majority coming from the United States. For examples, seehere and here.
With black representation lacking in Brazilian media, actors bring their perspective to You Tube
Note from BW of Brazil: In past posts, we have seen numerous examples and proof of the vast under-representation of Afro-Brazilian actors in Brazilian film and television. We also have a wide array of evidence that shows that Brazil’s media intends to continue portraying black characters in traditionally stereotypical roles. But in response to this, we have seen in recent years a number of Afro-Brazilian groups addressing this issue in their own creative ways, telling their own stories and revealing their own perspectives, which are for the most part, invisible in the mainstream.
Just over the past few years we’ve seen a number of intriguing pieces of black theaterand independent black films that are being recognized by an international audienceeven though Brazil continues to ignore them. Recently, in Rio, the short film K-Bela debuted to critical acclaim with its portrayal of the issues black women go through in terms of race and beauty. And in Bahia, a family group of actors have produced and starred in a series of commercial-like videos that bring black invisibility in product advertising to the forefront. The videos have been recorded especially for You Tube, an idea that another group of black actors in Bahia, featured below, is also making use of. See the videos below.
Black people on Youtube: Ouriçado is Black Humor to blacken the Internet
By Silvia Nascimento of Mundo Negro with contributions and photos courtesy of Correio Nagô
Denegrir or to denigrate means to torna-se negro (become black) and it’s in this way that the You Tube channel Ouriçado, takes its place to attract the public to reflect on what it means to be black in Brazil, by means of humor.
The videos are produced by actors of the Oficina de Performance Negra (Black Performance Workshop) put on by Bando de Teatro Olodum (Olodum Theater Band) – which includes names like Lázaro Ramos and Luiz Miranda – of the free theater course of the Federal University of Bahia, as well as guest actors.
Directed by Leno Sacramento, who is also an actor of Bando de Teatro Olodum, the first of the videos, with an everyday scene in which veiled racism is put into practice, is now available for access. In the cast are Elcian Gabriel, Taimara Liz, Tainara Arão, Heraldo de Deus, Naira da Hora with the production of Luciene Brito. In the beginning, the work highlights ‘white face’, an irony of ‘blackface’, which marks the history of racism in audiovisual productions including that of Brazil.
The group also warns, “Ouriçado didn’t come about simply to provoke laughter. It comes with the purpose of arousing their critical, political and social sense given what we live. So don’t miss the opportunity to enjoy, share and comment, and remember the laughter in this case is just a detail.”
Mundo Negro chatted with Heraldo de Deus, one of the project’s producers.
Where does the inspiration for creating the videos come from?
Our itineraries are unfortunately inspired by the day-to-day, they’re a reflection on our society. All we seek to portray is not at all different from the reality of black and periphery youth in Salvador (Bahia) and what we’re used to seeing on the news and advertising.
How often are the recordings of the videos?
Currently, for still not having own materials (different than Glauber Rocha, we have the ideas in our head, but we still don’t have a camera in hand). Our recordings have taken place monthly and we have utilized most of the time our own homes as the set. The goal is to be able to increase our production capacity so that we can produce and publish more than one video per month, but for now it’s what we do.
Still from Ouriçado production
Does Ouriçado have any sponsorship or is it done with your own resources?
We have no sponsorship. We have some supporters, some of them have left along the way. The camera and technicians are ceded by the director of Audiovisual Board of the State of Bahia Cultural Foundation (DIMAS / FUNCEB) and all expenses offset and pre-production has also come out of our own pockets. If any reader of the Mundo Negro site is interested in sponsoring us, we will accept very willingly!
As how has reaction been?
The feedback so far has been positive, being able to give visibility to black artists in our town (we have a 90% black population but we don’t feel represented on TV, including local advertising and not in some other web channels – there are always two or three in a universe loaded with very competent black artists) and really because of this we satire the practice of blackface in most of our productions.
There are those who call us racists who think that our videos are positive reinforcement of something so negative, Ouriçado didn’t come about with this objective. We really want is to put a finger on the wound, it is to show something that often goes unnoticed, but what’s in front of our nose, every day, every hour.
Some of our videos already have a thousand views and mainly the fact of becoming a protagonist in a daily struggle that is so much ours is the greatest return we can achieve. Knowing that our videos have been shown in classrooms, proposing a reflection on society and allowing us to dream of a reality where skin color is no reason to differentiate.
With black representation lacking in Brazilian media, actors bring their perspective to You Tube
Note from BW of Brazil: In past posts, we have seen numerous examples and proof of the vast under-representation of Afro-Brazilian actors in Brazilian film and television. We also have a wide array of evidence that shows that Brazil’s media intends to continue portraying black characters in traditionally stereotypical roles. But in response to this, we have seen in recent years a number of Afro-Brazilian groups addressing this issue in their own creative ways, telling their own stories and revealing their own perspectives, which are for the most part, invisible in the mainstream.
Just over the past few years we’ve seen a number of intriguing pieces of black theaterand independent black films that are being recognized by an international audienceeven though Brazil continues to ignore them. Recently, in Rio, the short film K-Bela debuted to critical acclaim with its portrayal of the issues black women go through in terms of race and beauty. And in Bahia, a family group of actors have produced and starred in a series of commercial-like videos that bring black invisibility in product advertising to the forefront. The videos have been recorded especially for You Tube, an idea that another group of black actors in Bahia, featured below, is also making use of. See the videos below.
Black people on Youtube: Ouriçado is Black Humor to blacken the Internet
By Silvia Nascimento of Mundo Negro with contributions and photos courtesy of Correio Nagô
Denegrir or to denigrate means to torna-se negro (become black) and it’s in this way that the You Tube channel Ouriçado, takes its place to attract the public to reflect on what it means to be black in Brazil, by means of humor.
The videos are produced by actors of the Oficina de Performance Negra (Black Performance Workshop) put on by Bando de Teatro Olodum (Olodum Theater Band) – which includes names like Lázaro Ramos and Luiz Miranda – of the free theater course of the Federal University of Bahia, as well as guest actors.
Directed by Leno Sacramento, who is also an actor of Bando de Teatro Olodum, the first of the videos, with an everyday scene in which veiled racism is put into practice, is now available for access. In the cast are Elcian Gabriel, Taimara Liz, Tainara Arão, Heraldo de Deus, Naira da Hora with the production of Luciene Brito. In the beginning, the work highlights ‘white face’, an irony of ‘blackface’, which marks the history of racism in audiovisual productions including that of Brazil.
The group also warns, “Ouriçado didn’t come about simply to provoke laughter. It comes with the purpose of arousing their critical, political and social sense given what we live. So don’t miss the opportunity to enjoy, share and comment, and remember the laughter in this case is just a detail.”
Mundo Negro chatted with Heraldo de Deus, one of the project’s producers.
Where does the inspiration for creating the videos come from?
Our itineraries are unfortunately inspired by the day-to-day, they’re a reflection on our society. All we seek to portray is not at all different from the reality of black and periphery youth in Salvador (Bahia) and what we’re used to seeing on the news and advertising.
How often are the recordings of the videos?
Currently, for still not having own materials (different than Glauber Rocha, we have the ideas in our head, but we still don’t have a camera in hand). Our recordings have taken place monthly and we have utilized most of the time our own homes as the set. The goal is to be able to increase our production capacity so that we can produce and publish more than one video per month, but for now it’s what we do.
Still from Ouriçado production
Does Ouriçado have any sponsorship or is it done with your own resources?
We have no sponsorship. We have some supporters, some of them have left along the way. The camera and technicians are ceded by the director of Audiovisual Board of the State of Bahia Cultural Foundation (DIMAS / FUNCEB) and all expenses offset and pre-production has also come out of our own pockets. If any reader of the Mundo Negro site is interested in sponsoring us, we will accept very willingly!
As how has reaction been?
The feedback so far has been positive, being able to give visibility to black artists in our town (we have a 90% black population but we don’t feel represented on TV, including local advertising and not in some other web channels – there are always two or three in a universe loaded with very competent black artists) and really because of this we satire the practice of blackface in most of our productions.
There are those who call us racists who think that our videos are positive reinforcement of something so negative, Ouriçado didn’t come about with this objective. We really want is to put a finger on the wound, it is to show something that often goes unnoticed, but what’s in front of our nose, every day, every hour.
Some of our videos already have a thousand views and mainly the fact of becoming a protagonist in a daily struggle that is so much ours is the greatest return we can achieve. Knowing that our videos have been shown in classrooms, proposing a reflection on society and allowing us to dream of a reality where skin color is no reason to differentiate.
With black representation lacking in Brazilian media, actors bring their perspective to You Tube
WAVING THE FLAG: JAMAICA, NEO-COLONIALISM, AND THE BEAUTY OF CARIBBEAN DEFIANCE
5 minute readby Jonathan Jackson
In Culture, Race & Identity
Photo: my-island-jamaica.com
West Indians share many things. Cuisine, music, an impenetrable resilience and national pride. But we also collectively share a history of colonialism that set the majority of Europe up for generations of fiscal success built on the slave trade and years of colonial rule.
Despite the furrowed brows and hushed voices that accompany conversations about reparations, there is a global precedent for this, especially when it comes to the former British Empire. By definition, reparations are simply “making of amends for a wrong one has done, by paying money to or otherwise helping those who have been wronged.”
In 2013, Britain apologized to the members of the Mau Mau Uprising, Kenya’s struggle for independence. Britain set up colonial detention camps and physically and mentally abused Kenyans who opposed their colonial government. The settlement was around 20 million pounds, paid out to approximately 5,228 of the victims and their families. William Hague, who was serving as the secretary of state for foreign and commonwealth affairs at the time, went on record:
“The British government sincerely regrets that these abuses took place and that they marred Kenya’s progress to independence. Torture and ill-treatment are abhorrent violations of human dignity which we unreservedly condemn.”
Mr. Hague also made sure to qualify this ruling as not a matter of justice, but a simple court preceding with absolutely no relevance to anything else:
“We do not believe that this settlement establishes a precedent in relation to any other former British colonial administration…”
You’ll never be successful telling a Jamaican to be quiet, especially when they have something to say. You’ll be even more unsuccessful suggesting that an entire nation simply “move forward” as a means to avoid a difficult and uncomfortable conversation. That’s not progress. It’s benevolent subjugation under the guise of shared prosperity. If aid looks like a new prison to extradite offenders back to Jamaica, I’d hate to see what advancement looks like. Most developing nations have had their progress delayed or impeded at one time or another because someone else tried determine their destiny for them.
Popcaan was right: the system is designed to set we up.
For a living definition of black excellence, you don’t have to look much further than the Caribbean. Ravaged for its natural resources, delegated as the property of its colonial overseers, politically disenfranchised via countless policy restrictions and legal adaptations and denied access to self-determine their economic identity, except for under the control and watchful eye of the same European nations who unjustly benefited, prospered and created a sustainable world on the backs and broken necks of black bodies. Still, we rise.
As Ta-Nehisi Coates points out in The Case for Reparations:
“Plunder in the past makes plunder in the present efficient.”
This dialogue is part of a global sentiment that rings true from South London to Portmore; that contrition is only one of many outputs for reconciliation to become tangible, not the sole outcome. That policies with historical ties to slavery are, in fact, not to be passed off as ancestral burdens, but are even more salient today because their legacy keeps people bound by their situations and their mind state. That the economic condition of Jamaica and other nations in the region is neither a random turn of fate or a cosmic act of happenstance. That if you seek to come here, build relationships and promote shared peace and prosperity, you are also bound to share in not just thefeeling of development, but the actual work.
David Cameron doesn’t have to talk about slavery. But that doesn’t make its legacy any less salient. He doesn’t have the power to change history, even if his comments belittle it. But like any leader, his positioning represents the feelings and sentiments of a nation, past and present. Black people are not afforded the ability to disassociate from their individual pasts, and are judged every single day by them in a myriad of situations that can often cost our lives. We must know our history well enough to not let anyone else dictate it, and to make them aware every time they try to co-opt the narrative.
That truth is a violently inconvenient one, that former Jamaican prime minister P.J. Pattersoneloquently articulated:
“Those 180 years were followed by another 100 years of imposed racial apartheid in which these families were racially oppressed by British armies and colonial machinery. The scars of this oppression are still alive in the minds and hearts of million of Jamaicans.”
I am not naive enough to assume that reparations can fix or permanently mend the economic binds or conditions that many Caribbean countries find themselves in. But, as someone who is a product of Trinidadian sun and Mississippi mud, I am keenly aware that there is blood in this water, no matter how clear or warm it is.
But it doesn’t define us. Instead, Jamaica and her many cousins have found ways to survive and persist, regardless of the circumstances. We wave our flags. We create micro-communities where our food, traditions, and communal history is protected and nurtured. We show up to the Olympics and leave the world breathless. Your favorite artist’s favorite artist probably has roots near the equator. We throw the best functions on the planet, and the entire world scrambles to get on the guest list. Our defiance takes many forms and a variety of mediums, but there is an enduring loudness in how we engage with a world that loves what we make, but despises who we are.
Dem nuh worry we. They never have.
Waving The Flag: Jamaica, neo-colonialism, and the beauty of Caribbean defiance -
5 minute readby Jonathan Jackson
In Culture, Race & Identity
Photo: my-island-jamaica.com
West Indians share many things. Cuisine, music, an impenetrable resilience and national pride. But we also collectively share a history of colonialism that set the majority of Europe up for generations of fiscal success built on the slave trade and years of colonial rule.
Despite the furrowed brows and hushed voices that accompany conversations about reparations, there is a global precedent for this, especially when it comes to the former British Empire. By definition, reparations are simply “making of amends for a wrong one has done, by paying money to or otherwise helping those who have been wronged.”
In 2013, Britain apologized to the members of the Mau Mau Uprising, Kenya’s struggle for independence. Britain set up colonial detention camps and physically and mentally abused Kenyans who opposed their colonial government. The settlement was around 20 million pounds, paid out to approximately 5,228 of the victims and their families. William Hague, who was serving as the secretary of state for foreign and commonwealth affairs at the time, went on record:
“The British government sincerely regrets that these abuses took place and that they marred Kenya’s progress to independence. Torture and ill-treatment are abhorrent violations of human dignity which we unreservedly condemn.”
Mr. Hague also made sure to qualify this ruling as not a matter of justice, but a simple court preceding with absolutely no relevance to anything else:
“We do not believe that this settlement establishes a precedent in relation to any other former British colonial administration…”
You’ll never be successful telling a Jamaican to be quiet, especially when they have something to say. You’ll be even more unsuccessful suggesting that an entire nation simply “move forward” as a means to avoid a difficult and uncomfortable conversation. That’s not progress. It’s benevolent subjugation under the guise of shared prosperity. If aid looks like a new prison to extradite offenders back to Jamaica, I’d hate to see what advancement looks like. Most developing nations have had their progress delayed or impeded at one time or another because someone else tried determine their destiny for them.
Popcaan was right: the system is designed to set we up.
For a living definition of black excellence, you don’t have to look much further than the Caribbean. Ravaged for its natural resources, delegated as the property of its colonial overseers, politically disenfranchised via countless policy restrictions and legal adaptations and denied access to self-determine their economic identity, except for under the control and watchful eye of the same European nations who unjustly benefited, prospered and created a sustainable world on the backs and broken necks of black bodies. Still, we rise.
As Ta-Nehisi Coates points out in The Case for Reparations:
“Plunder in the past makes plunder in the present efficient.”
This dialogue is part of a global sentiment that rings true from South London to Portmore; that contrition is only one of many outputs for reconciliation to become tangible, not the sole outcome. That policies with historical ties to slavery are, in fact, not to be passed off as ancestral burdens, but are even more salient today because their legacy keeps people bound by their situations and their mind state. That the economic condition of Jamaica and other nations in the region is neither a random turn of fate or a cosmic act of happenstance. That if you seek to come here, build relationships and promote shared peace and prosperity, you are also bound to share in not just thefeeling of development, but the actual work.
David Cameron doesn’t have to talk about slavery. But that doesn’t make its legacy any less salient. He doesn’t have the power to change history, even if his comments belittle it. But like any leader, his positioning represents the feelings and sentiments of a nation, past and present. Black people are not afforded the ability to disassociate from their individual pasts, and are judged every single day by them in a myriad of situations that can often cost our lives. We must know our history well enough to not let anyone else dictate it, and to make them aware every time they try to co-opt the narrative.
That truth is a violently inconvenient one, that former Jamaican prime minister P.J. Pattersoneloquently articulated:
“Those 180 years were followed by another 100 years of imposed racial apartheid in which these families were racially oppressed by British armies and colonial machinery. The scars of this oppression are still alive in the minds and hearts of million of Jamaicans.”
I am not naive enough to assume that reparations can fix or permanently mend the economic binds or conditions that many Caribbean countries find themselves in. But, as someone who is a product of Trinidadian sun and Mississippi mud, I am keenly aware that there is blood in this water, no matter how clear or warm it is.
But it doesn’t define us. Instead, Jamaica and her many cousins have found ways to survive and persist, regardless of the circumstances. We wave our flags. We create micro-communities where our food, traditions, and communal history is protected and nurtured. We show up to the Olympics and leave the world breathless. Your favorite artist’s favorite artist probably has roots near the equator. We throw the best functions on the planet, and the entire world scrambles to get on the guest list. Our defiance takes many forms and a variety of mediums, but there is an enduring loudness in how we engage with a world that loves what we make, but despises who we are.
Dem nuh worry we. They never have.
Waving The Flag: Jamaica, neo-colonialism, and the beauty of Caribbean defiance -