- 70,049
- 24,223
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2004
why can't they understand that? everyone else in NYC understand thats...hence why there's a Harlem and there's a SPANISH harlem....
Re: Why Dark-Skinned People From The Dominican Republic Refuse Their Blackness
- 70,049
- 24,223
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2004
why can't they understand that? everyone else in NYC understand thats...hence why there's a Harlem and there's a SPANISH harlem....
- 9,946
- 7,138
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2005
for the record ninjahood (and whoever quoted me like two pages ago), i'm a puerto rican.
i know what time it is.
this denial +!@+%$@! happens pretty often. its real "funny."
i know what time it is.
this denial +!@+%$@! happens pretty often. its real "funny."
- 9,946
- 7,138
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2005
for the record ninjahood (and whoever quoted me like two pages ago), i'm a puerto rican.
i know what time it is.
this denial +!@+%$@! happens pretty often. its real "funny."
i know what time it is.
this denial +!@+%$@! happens pretty often. its real "funny."
antonlavey
Banned
- 28,210
- 847
- Joined
- Oct 13, 2008
SPANISH HARLEM eh?
http://www.literanista.net/
[h2]Friday, February 25, 2011[/h2]
http://[h3]The Afro-Latino Reader[/h3]
The Afro-Latin@ Reader: History and Culture in the United States Edited by: Miriam Jiménez Román, Juan Flores
[h1]Harlem's Afro-Cuban Renaissance[/h1] [h3]Bobby Sanabria and his cohorts aim to bring globe-trotting uptown jazz back overground[/h3]
A A A Comments (0) By Larry Blumenfeld Tuesday, Apr 27 2010
On a recent Wednesday night, 19 musicians fit snugly into the far end of the FB Lounge on 106th Street, just off Third Avenue in Harlem. Trombone slides abutted one wall; a pianist backed up against another. Congas and bongos spilled offstage. But once swept into full force, as they were on "57th Street Mambo," the musicians issued a collective sound that challenged the room's dimensions in other ways. The dense cross-hatch of Afro-Cuban rhythms, half-time funk, modern-jazz harmonies, and at least a half-dozen other reference points stretched body and mind, too—or at least called both to attention.
Christopher Farber
Bobby Sanabria's big-ambition band
[h2]Related Content[/h2]
Bobby Sanabria's big band hits hard, fast, and with clear purpose. "We play Cuban music with a New York attitude, all dedicated to the community that has been keeping this music alive for more than half a century," the drummer explains between songs, seated front and center before his expansive kit. He means this neighborhood, where the supper club run by brothers Roberto and Jorge Ayala is a welcome offshoot of their La Fonda Boricua restaurant across the street. But he also means the farther-flung community throughout New York, which includes many who, like Sanabria and the Ayalas, are of Puerto Rican descent, and who've keyed moments of cross-cultural preservation and innovation through Afro-Cuban sounds.
"This music has gone underground," Sanabria laments later, between sets. "But I remember when there were 30 different clubs in this city where you could go and hear some mixture of Afro-Cuban tradition and New York jazz." Sanabria, who grew up in the Fort Apache section of the South Bronx, found inspiration back then from such standard-bearing first-generation players as Tito Puente and trumpeter Mario Bauzá. Sanabria teaches at both the Manhattan School of Music and the New School, and he treats the stage as one more classroom: He pauses halfway through one set to acknowledge the name chosen by Bauzá and his brother-in-law, singer and frontman Frank "Machito" Grillo, for their legendary orchestra: Afro-Cubans. "That was an early nod to Africa," he notes, "before it was in fashion." Tonight, Sanabria's own nod is overt and visible: In place of his usual jacket and tie, he wears a black T-shirt emblazoned with, in red, a Kongo cross and the phrase Abre/Kuta/Güiri/Mambo—Kikongo for, very liberally interpreted, "Word up."
The whole band wears the shirts. So does Ned Sublette, the musician and writer holding court at a table nearby, as is his custom nearly every Wednesday night, surrounded by stacks of the T-shirts he designed and copies of his authoritative book, Cuba and Its Music. Both are expressions of what Sublette calls "postmamboism"—"a portable theory that places music at the center of understanding" and "begins with the study of African diaspora musics," as he has explained in a post on BoingBoing.net. "Not deconstruction, not postcolonialism, not subaltern studies, not semiotics itself can boast of a triumph to rival the Postmamboism T-shirt," Sublette writes me in an e-mail.
For Sanabria, the fashion statement just fits: "It means what we say musically: This has deep roots, and it calls for an open mind."
This band also requires knowledgeable and gifted musicians, including at least two university professors, some half-dozen of their current and former students, and several veterans of what Sanabria calls "the salsa and jazz wars." Percussionist Obanilu Allende's power and agility, especially on the baril de bomba, stand out, as does trumpeter Shareef Clayton's pithy, bebop-inflected solos. These musicians' formidable gifts range widely, as do their ages: In March, 19-year-old Christian Sands sat in ably on piano, while Hiram "El Pavo" Remon, 79, handled the maracas with devastating sensitivity.
Before the previous week's gig, the band worked its way through "Worstward Ho," a composition by band member Chris Washburne based on a Samuel Beckett story. ("Disintegrate into nothingness," read one of the chart's marks.) Later, the group performed another of his tunes, "Pink," which punctuates a Cuban son montuno with brass hits worthy of Parliament. "This band is the best workshop I can imagine for my tunes," says the trombonist, a tenured Columbia University professor who has played on the New York scene for nearly 20 years. "Bobby is a torch-bearer in this tradition, but he's not a historicist. I can write stuff for this band that pushes the limits."
That's one reason he, like his bandmates, signed on for a guarantee of roughly 30 bucks a man. "We're hanging in there," Sanabria says of the Wednesday-night gig. He's begun alternating big-band weeks with smaller ensembles, including his excellent quartet and a nine-piece outfit, Ascensión. "We need to develop a wider audience and an attitude in the jazz community that the club is a 'Class A' jazz room. It's hard for people to fathom that when they see the address."
Sanabria's point is supported by the FB's well-tuned piano, effective sound system, and good food. And unlike the mofongo, ubiquitous wherever Puerto Rican cuisine is showcased, what Sanabria's big band serves up is unique. Despite its references—to an earlier Manhattan moment, to pasts in Cuba and Africa—this is a forward-thinking ensemble of the highest order. May they march on in the barrio.
http://www.literanista.net/
[h2]Friday, February 25, 2011[/h2]
http://[h3]The Afro-Latino Reader[/h3]
The Afro-Latin@ Reader: History and Culture in the United States Edited by: Miriam Jiménez Román, Juan Flores
The Afro-Latin@ Reader focuses attention on a large, vibrant, yet oddly invisible community in the United States: people of African descent from Latin America and the Caribbean. The presence of Afro-Latin@s in the United States (and throughout the Americas) belies the notion that Blacks and Latin@s are two distinct categories or cultures. Afro-Latin@s are uniquely situated to bridge the widening social divide between Latin@s and African Americans; at the same time, their experiences reveal pervasive racism among Latin@s and ethnocentrism among African Americans.
[h1]Harlem's Afro-Cuban Renaissance[/h1] [h3]Bobby Sanabria and his cohorts aim to bring globe-trotting uptown jazz back overground[/h3]
A A A Comments (0) By Larry Blumenfeld Tuesday, Apr 27 2010
On a recent Wednesday night, 19 musicians fit snugly into the far end of the FB Lounge on 106th Street, just off Third Avenue in Harlem. Trombone slides abutted one wall; a pianist backed up against another. Congas and bongos spilled offstage. But once swept into full force, as they were on "57th Street Mambo," the musicians issued a collective sound that challenged the room's dimensions in other ways. The dense cross-hatch of Afro-Cuban rhythms, half-time funk, modern-jazz harmonies, and at least a half-dozen other reference points stretched body and mind, too—or at least called both to attention.
Christopher Farber
Bobby Sanabria's big-ambition band
[h2]Related Content[/h2]
- NYC NOISE
October 20, 2010 - Yomo Toro & Roswell Rudd
March 24, 2010 - AfroCubism Emerges at Last
November 3, 2010 - DRAMATICO
May 27, 2008 - Live: Rhys Chatham's "A Crimson Grail" at Lincoln Center
August 10, 2009
Bobby Sanabria's big band hits hard, fast, and with clear purpose. "We play Cuban music with a New York attitude, all dedicated to the community that has been keeping this music alive for more than half a century," the drummer explains between songs, seated front and center before his expansive kit. He means this neighborhood, where the supper club run by brothers Roberto and Jorge Ayala is a welcome offshoot of their La Fonda Boricua restaurant across the street. But he also means the farther-flung community throughout New York, which includes many who, like Sanabria and the Ayalas, are of Puerto Rican descent, and who've keyed moments of cross-cultural preservation and innovation through Afro-Cuban sounds.
"This music has gone underground," Sanabria laments later, between sets. "But I remember when there were 30 different clubs in this city where you could go and hear some mixture of Afro-Cuban tradition and New York jazz." Sanabria, who grew up in the Fort Apache section of the South Bronx, found inspiration back then from such standard-bearing first-generation players as Tito Puente and trumpeter Mario Bauzá. Sanabria teaches at both the Manhattan School of Music and the New School, and he treats the stage as one more classroom: He pauses halfway through one set to acknowledge the name chosen by Bauzá and his brother-in-law, singer and frontman Frank "Machito" Grillo, for their legendary orchestra: Afro-Cubans. "That was an early nod to Africa," he notes, "before it was in fashion." Tonight, Sanabria's own nod is overt and visible: In place of his usual jacket and tie, he wears a black T-shirt emblazoned with, in red, a Kongo cross and the phrase Abre/Kuta/Güiri/Mambo—Kikongo for, very liberally interpreted, "Word up."
The whole band wears the shirts. So does Ned Sublette, the musician and writer holding court at a table nearby, as is his custom nearly every Wednesday night, surrounded by stacks of the T-shirts he designed and copies of his authoritative book, Cuba and Its Music. Both are expressions of what Sublette calls "postmamboism"—"a portable theory that places music at the center of understanding" and "begins with the study of African diaspora musics," as he has explained in a post on BoingBoing.net. "Not deconstruction, not postcolonialism, not subaltern studies, not semiotics itself can boast of a triumph to rival the Postmamboism T-shirt," Sublette writes me in an e-mail.
For Sanabria, the fashion statement just fits: "It means what we say musically: This has deep roots, and it calls for an open mind."
This band also requires knowledgeable and gifted musicians, including at least two university professors, some half-dozen of their current and former students, and several veterans of what Sanabria calls "the salsa and jazz wars." Percussionist Obanilu Allende's power and agility, especially on the baril de bomba, stand out, as does trumpeter Shareef Clayton's pithy, bebop-inflected solos. These musicians' formidable gifts range widely, as do their ages: In March, 19-year-old Christian Sands sat in ably on piano, while Hiram "El Pavo" Remon, 79, handled the maracas with devastating sensitivity.
Before the previous week's gig, the band worked its way through "Worstward Ho," a composition by band member Chris Washburne based on a Samuel Beckett story. ("Disintegrate into nothingness," read one of the chart's marks.) Later, the group performed another of his tunes, "Pink," which punctuates a Cuban son montuno with brass hits worthy of Parliament. "This band is the best workshop I can imagine for my tunes," says the trombonist, a tenured Columbia University professor who has played on the New York scene for nearly 20 years. "Bobby is a torch-bearer in this tradition, but he's not a historicist. I can write stuff for this band that pushes the limits."
That's one reason he, like his bandmates, signed on for a guarantee of roughly 30 bucks a man. "We're hanging in there," Sanabria says of the Wednesday-night gig. He's begun alternating big-band weeks with smaller ensembles, including his excellent quartet and a nine-piece outfit, Ascensión. "We need to develop a wider audience and an attitude in the jazz community that the club is a 'Class A' jazz room. It's hard for people to fathom that when they see the address."
Sanabria's point is supported by the FB's well-tuned piano, effective sound system, and good food. And unlike the mofongo, ubiquitous wherever Puerto Rican cuisine is showcased, what Sanabria's big band serves up is unique. Despite its references—to an earlier Manhattan moment, to pasts in Cuba and Africa—this is a forward-thinking ensemble of the highest order. May they march on in the barrio.
antonlavey
Banned
- 28,210
- 847
- Joined
- Oct 13, 2008
SPANISH HARLEM eh?
http://www.literanista.net/
[h2]Friday, February 25, 2011[/h2]
http://[h3]The Afro-Latino Reader[/h3]
The Afro-Latin@ Reader: History and Culture in the United States Edited by: Miriam Jiménez Román, Juan Flores
[h1]Harlem's Afro-Cuban Renaissance[/h1] [h3]Bobby Sanabria and his cohorts aim to bring globe-trotting uptown jazz back overground[/h3]
A A A Comments (0) By Larry Blumenfeld Tuesday, Apr 27 2010
On a recent Wednesday night, 19 musicians fit snugly into the far end of the FB Lounge on 106th Street, just off Third Avenue in Harlem. Trombone slides abutted one wall; a pianist backed up against another. Congas and bongos spilled offstage. But once swept into full force, as they were on "57th Street Mambo," the musicians issued a collective sound that challenged the room's dimensions in other ways. The dense cross-hatch of Afro-Cuban rhythms, half-time funk, modern-jazz harmonies, and at least a half-dozen other reference points stretched body and mind, too—or at least called both to attention.
Christopher Farber
Bobby Sanabria's big-ambition band
[h2]Related Content[/h2]
Bobby Sanabria's big band hits hard, fast, and with clear purpose. "We play Cuban music with a New York attitude, all dedicated to the community that has been keeping this music alive for more than half a century," the drummer explains between songs, seated front and center before his expansive kit. He means this neighborhood, where the supper club run by brothers Roberto and Jorge Ayala is a welcome offshoot of their La Fonda Boricua restaurant across the street. But he also means the farther-flung community throughout New York, which includes many who, like Sanabria and the Ayalas, are of Puerto Rican descent, and who've keyed moments of cross-cultural preservation and innovation through Afro-Cuban sounds.
"This music has gone underground," Sanabria laments later, between sets. "But I remember when there were 30 different clubs in this city where you could go and hear some mixture of Afro-Cuban tradition and New York jazz." Sanabria, who grew up in the Fort Apache section of the South Bronx, found inspiration back then from such standard-bearing first-generation players as Tito Puente and trumpeter Mario Bauzá. Sanabria teaches at both the Manhattan School of Music and the New School, and he treats the stage as one more classroom: He pauses halfway through one set to acknowledge the name chosen by Bauzá and his brother-in-law, singer and frontman Frank "Machito" Grillo, for their legendary orchestra: Afro-Cubans. "That was an early nod to Africa," he notes, "before it was in fashion." Tonight, Sanabria's own nod is overt and visible: In place of his usual jacket and tie, he wears a black T-shirt emblazoned with, in red, a Kongo cross and the phrase Abre/Kuta/Güiri/Mambo—Kikongo for, very liberally interpreted, "Word up."
The whole band wears the shirts. So does Ned Sublette, the musician and writer holding court at a table nearby, as is his custom nearly every Wednesday night, surrounded by stacks of the T-shirts he designed and copies of his authoritative book, Cuba and Its Music. Both are expressions of what Sublette calls "postmamboism"—"a portable theory that places music at the center of understanding" and "begins with the study of African diaspora musics," as he has explained in a post on BoingBoing.net. "Not deconstruction, not postcolonialism, not subaltern studies, not semiotics itself can boast of a triumph to rival the Postmamboism T-shirt," Sublette writes me in an e-mail.
For Sanabria, the fashion statement just fits: "It means what we say musically: This has deep roots, and it calls for an open mind."
This band also requires knowledgeable and gifted musicians, including at least two university professors, some half-dozen of their current and former students, and several veterans of what Sanabria calls "the salsa and jazz wars." Percussionist Obanilu Allende's power and agility, especially on the baril de bomba, stand out, as does trumpeter Shareef Clayton's pithy, bebop-inflected solos. These musicians' formidable gifts range widely, as do their ages: In March, 19-year-old Christian Sands sat in ably on piano, while Hiram "El Pavo" Remon, 79, handled the maracas with devastating sensitivity.
Before the previous week's gig, the band worked its way through "Worstward Ho," a composition by band member Chris Washburne based on a Samuel Beckett story. ("Disintegrate into nothingness," read one of the chart's marks.) Later, the group performed another of his tunes, "Pink," which punctuates a Cuban son montuno with brass hits worthy of Parliament. "This band is the best workshop I can imagine for my tunes," says the trombonist, a tenured Columbia University professor who has played on the New York scene for nearly 20 years. "Bobby is a torch-bearer in this tradition, but he's not a historicist. I can write stuff for this band that pushes the limits."
That's one reason he, like his bandmates, signed on for a guarantee of roughly 30 bucks a man. "We're hanging in there," Sanabria says of the Wednesday-night gig. He's begun alternating big-band weeks with smaller ensembles, including his excellent quartet and a nine-piece outfit, Ascensión. "We need to develop a wider audience and an attitude in the jazz community that the club is a 'Class A' jazz room. It's hard for people to fathom that when they see the address."
Sanabria's point is supported by the FB's well-tuned piano, effective sound system, and good food. And unlike the mofongo, ubiquitous wherever Puerto Rican cuisine is showcased, what Sanabria's big band serves up is unique. Despite its references—to an earlier Manhattan moment, to pasts in Cuba and Africa—this is a forward-thinking ensemble of the highest order. May they march on in the barrio.
http://www.literanista.net/
[h2]Friday, February 25, 2011[/h2]
http://[h3]The Afro-Latino Reader[/h3]
The Afro-Latin@ Reader: History and Culture in the United States Edited by: Miriam Jiménez Román, Juan Flores
The Afro-Latin@ Reader focuses attention on a large, vibrant, yet oddly invisible community in the United States: people of African descent from Latin America and the Caribbean. The presence of Afro-Latin@s in the United States (and throughout the Americas) belies the notion that Blacks and Latin@s are two distinct categories or cultures. Afro-Latin@s are uniquely situated to bridge the widening social divide between Latin@s and African Americans; at the same time, their experiences reveal pervasive racism among Latin@s and ethnocentrism among African Americans.
[h1]Harlem's Afro-Cuban Renaissance[/h1] [h3]Bobby Sanabria and his cohorts aim to bring globe-trotting uptown jazz back overground[/h3]
A A A Comments (0) By Larry Blumenfeld Tuesday, Apr 27 2010
On a recent Wednesday night, 19 musicians fit snugly into the far end of the FB Lounge on 106th Street, just off Third Avenue in Harlem. Trombone slides abutted one wall; a pianist backed up against another. Congas and bongos spilled offstage. But once swept into full force, as they were on "57th Street Mambo," the musicians issued a collective sound that challenged the room's dimensions in other ways. The dense cross-hatch of Afro-Cuban rhythms, half-time funk, modern-jazz harmonies, and at least a half-dozen other reference points stretched body and mind, too—or at least called both to attention.
Christopher Farber
Bobby Sanabria's big-ambition band
[h2]Related Content[/h2]
- NYC NOISE
October 20, 2010 - Yomo Toro & Roswell Rudd
March 24, 2010 - AfroCubism Emerges at Last
November 3, 2010 - DRAMATICO
May 27, 2008 - Live: Rhys Chatham's "A Crimson Grail" at Lincoln Center
August 10, 2009
Bobby Sanabria's big band hits hard, fast, and with clear purpose. "We play Cuban music with a New York attitude, all dedicated to the community that has been keeping this music alive for more than half a century," the drummer explains between songs, seated front and center before his expansive kit. He means this neighborhood, where the supper club run by brothers Roberto and Jorge Ayala is a welcome offshoot of their La Fonda Boricua restaurant across the street. But he also means the farther-flung community throughout New York, which includes many who, like Sanabria and the Ayalas, are of Puerto Rican descent, and who've keyed moments of cross-cultural preservation and innovation through Afro-Cuban sounds.
"This music has gone underground," Sanabria laments later, between sets. "But I remember when there were 30 different clubs in this city where you could go and hear some mixture of Afro-Cuban tradition and New York jazz." Sanabria, who grew up in the Fort Apache section of the South Bronx, found inspiration back then from such standard-bearing first-generation players as Tito Puente and trumpeter Mario Bauzá. Sanabria teaches at both the Manhattan School of Music and the New School, and he treats the stage as one more classroom: He pauses halfway through one set to acknowledge the name chosen by Bauzá and his brother-in-law, singer and frontman Frank "Machito" Grillo, for their legendary orchestra: Afro-Cubans. "That was an early nod to Africa," he notes, "before it was in fashion." Tonight, Sanabria's own nod is overt and visible: In place of his usual jacket and tie, he wears a black T-shirt emblazoned with, in red, a Kongo cross and the phrase Abre/Kuta/Güiri/Mambo—Kikongo for, very liberally interpreted, "Word up."
The whole band wears the shirts. So does Ned Sublette, the musician and writer holding court at a table nearby, as is his custom nearly every Wednesday night, surrounded by stacks of the T-shirts he designed and copies of his authoritative book, Cuba and Its Music. Both are expressions of what Sublette calls "postmamboism"—"a portable theory that places music at the center of understanding" and "begins with the study of African diaspora musics," as he has explained in a post on BoingBoing.net. "Not deconstruction, not postcolonialism, not subaltern studies, not semiotics itself can boast of a triumph to rival the Postmamboism T-shirt," Sublette writes me in an e-mail.
For Sanabria, the fashion statement just fits: "It means what we say musically: This has deep roots, and it calls for an open mind."
This band also requires knowledgeable and gifted musicians, including at least two university professors, some half-dozen of their current and former students, and several veterans of what Sanabria calls "the salsa and jazz wars." Percussionist Obanilu Allende's power and agility, especially on the baril de bomba, stand out, as does trumpeter Shareef Clayton's pithy, bebop-inflected solos. These musicians' formidable gifts range widely, as do their ages: In March, 19-year-old Christian Sands sat in ably on piano, while Hiram "El Pavo" Remon, 79, handled the maracas with devastating sensitivity.
Before the previous week's gig, the band worked its way through "Worstward Ho," a composition by band member Chris Washburne based on a Samuel Beckett story. ("Disintegrate into nothingness," read one of the chart's marks.) Later, the group performed another of his tunes, "Pink," which punctuates a Cuban son montuno with brass hits worthy of Parliament. "This band is the best workshop I can imagine for my tunes," says the trombonist, a tenured Columbia University professor who has played on the New York scene for nearly 20 years. "Bobby is a torch-bearer in this tradition, but he's not a historicist. I can write stuff for this band that pushes the limits."
That's one reason he, like his bandmates, signed on for a guarantee of roughly 30 bucks a man. "We're hanging in there," Sanabria says of the Wednesday-night gig. He's begun alternating big-band weeks with smaller ensembles, including his excellent quartet and a nine-piece outfit, Ascensión. "We need to develop a wider audience and an attitude in the jazz community that the club is a 'Class A' jazz room. It's hard for people to fathom that when they see the address."
Sanabria's point is supported by the FB's well-tuned piano, effective sound system, and good food. And unlike the mofongo, ubiquitous wherever Puerto Rican cuisine is showcased, what Sanabria's big band serves up is unique. Despite its references—to an earlier Manhattan moment, to pasts in Cuba and Africa—this is a forward-thinking ensemble of the highest order. May they march on in the barrio.
- 3,260
- 103
- Joined
- Dec 21, 2009
Being Dominican is not your race its your nationality
- 3,260
- 103
- Joined
- Dec 21, 2009
Being Dominican is not your race its your nationality
- 70,049
- 24,223
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2004
is this hipster really gonna tell me that im NOT latino/hispanic? like really?Originally Posted by AntonLaVey
Dominican is not a race. There are people in this county who have had white grandparents and great grandparents and they are considered black. What makes you 100% latino, cause you speak Spanish?
im not you @+%$@, no matter how bad you apparently want me to be
- 70,049
- 24,223
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2004
is this hipster really gonna tell me that im NOT latino/hispanic? like really?Originally Posted by AntonLaVey
Dominican is not a race. There are people in this county who have had white grandparents and great grandparents and they are considered black. What makes you 100% latino, cause you speak Spanish?
im not you @+%$@, no matter how bad you apparently want me to be
- 22,261
- 11,072
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2003
Also another thing.
My girl has two "black" parents but is lighter than Alicia Keys light and she has brown hair.
We don't call her white because culturally she just ain't so why we gotta call dark latinos black?
My girl has two "black" parents but is lighter than Alicia Keys light and she has brown hair.
We don't call her white because culturally she just ain't so why we gotta call dark latinos black?
- 22,261
- 11,072
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2003
Also another thing.
My girl has two "black" parents but is lighter than Alicia Keys light and she has brown hair.
We don't call her white because culturally she just ain't so why we gotta call dark latinos black?
My girl has two "black" parents but is lighter than Alicia Keys light and she has brown hair.
We don't call her white because culturally she just ain't so why we gotta call dark latinos black?
- 33,236
- 12,381
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2006
Not at all,
I clearly see what he is trying to say even though I don't agree with the way he is doing it. I don't agree with this notion of forcing him to embrace his "blackness".
He identifies himself based on his culture, ethnicity, heritage as opposed to his "race". This contingent is basing their argument on race and genetics, when in reality we ARE ALL a mix of everything.
I'm only speaking from a personal standpoint, I've mentioned the physical traits my parents have. It's a wide mixture, so to call myself a "White Mexican" is ridiculous since my family is littered with a variety of European and Indigenous features. I mentioned my dad looked like a carbon copy of an Aztec Warrior, his father (my grandfather) had a dark complexion with ocean blue eyes.
Seperating people solely based on race, an arbitrary term and designation, is ridiculous.
I don't think Anton's trying to force him to denounce being Dominican or to sudenly start repping Team Black Guy.
The point is he doesnt think he is Black. Even on a genetic level. So in his eyes he's not even denouncing it cuz he never was to begin with
It has nothing to do with cultural identity. Dudes are just trying to explain on a very basic level, "Yo you're part Black too. Just from a nice island with cool traditions."
There are Black Latinos... The two aren't mutually exclusive.
(As a quick aside, does anyone remember back in like 2004 when there was a movement to get rid of the word "Hispanic" because it was considered a racial slur slash term of ignorance?)
- 33,236
- 12,381
- Joined
- Jul 11, 2006
Not at all,
I clearly see what he is trying to say even though I don't agree with the way he is doing it. I don't agree with this notion of forcing him to embrace his "blackness".
He identifies himself based on his culture, ethnicity, heritage as opposed to his "race". This contingent is basing their argument on race and genetics, when in reality we ARE ALL a mix of everything.
I'm only speaking from a personal standpoint, I've mentioned the physical traits my parents have. It's a wide mixture, so to call myself a "White Mexican" is ridiculous since my family is littered with a variety of European and Indigenous features. I mentioned my dad looked like a carbon copy of an Aztec Warrior, his father (my grandfather) had a dark complexion with ocean blue eyes.
Seperating people solely based on race, an arbitrary term and designation, is ridiculous.
I don't think Anton's trying to force him to denounce being Dominican or to sudenly start repping Team Black Guy.
The point is he doesnt think he is Black. Even on a genetic level. So in his eyes he's not even denouncing it cuz he never was to begin with
It has nothing to do with cultural identity. Dudes are just trying to explain on a very basic level, "Yo you're part Black too. Just from a nice island with cool traditions."
There are Black Latinos... The two aren't mutually exclusive.
(As a quick aside, does anyone remember back in like 2004 when there was a movement to get rid of the word "Hispanic" because it was considered a racial slur slash term of ignorance?)
- 70,049
- 24,223
- Joined
- Aug 1, 2004
lol now people putting words in my mouth.....when people claim their hispanic it ALREADY MEANS THAT THEY ARE BLACK/EURO/INDIAN
im convinced that black people are just mad and hispanics aren't in this whole racial world.
- 9,946
- 7,138
- Joined
- Oct 8, 2005
quick notes:
not every hispanic person is "the same"
hispanic is an umbrella term that links us based on LANGUAGE.
mexican culture, pr culture, ..hell...culture from uruguay...what else...lets throw in el salvador. all that stuff is different. not all of us are the same at all.
hispanic does not mean black, white, native, etc.
one does get treated differently based on skin color in and out of latin america. you cannot be serious.
IMO ppl that are descendants of slaves have more in common than you'd think. we all have this stupid mentality that anything not black is right and is great.
but the african diaspora would rather be fragmented and focused on differences and wallow in ignorance.
typical.
not every hispanic person is "the same"
hispanic is an umbrella term that links us based on LANGUAGE.
mexican culture, pr culture, ..hell...culture from uruguay...what else...lets throw in el salvador. all that stuff is different. not all of us are the same at all.
hispanic does not mean black, white, native, etc.
one does get treated differently based on skin color in and out of latin america. you cannot be serious.
IMO ppl that are descendants of slaves have more in common than you'd think. we all have this stupid mentality that anything not black is right and is great.
but the african diaspora would rather be fragmented and focused on differences and wallow in ignorance.
typical.
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lol now people putting words in my mouth.....when people claim their hispanic it ALREADY MEANS THAT THEY ARE BLACK/EURO/INDIAN
im convinced that black people are just mad and hispanics aren't in this whole racial world.
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quick notes:
not every hispanic person is "the same"
hispanic is an umbrella term that links us based on LANGUAGE.
mexican culture, pr culture, ..hell...culture from uruguay...what else...lets throw in el salvador. all that stuff is different. not all of us are the same at all.
hispanic does not mean black, white, native, etc.
one does get treated differently based on skin color in and out of latin america. you cannot be serious.
IMO ppl that are descendants of slaves have more in common than you'd think. we all have this stupid mentality that anything not black is right and is great.
but the african diaspora would rather be fragmented and focused on differences and wallow in ignorance.
typical.
not every hispanic person is "the same"
hispanic is an umbrella term that links us based on LANGUAGE.
mexican culture, pr culture, ..hell...culture from uruguay...what else...lets throw in el salvador. all that stuff is different. not all of us are the same at all.
hispanic does not mean black, white, native, etc.
one does get treated differently based on skin color in and out of latin america. you cannot be serious.
IMO ppl that are descendants of slaves have more in common than you'd think. we all have this stupid mentality that anything not black is right and is great.
but the african diaspora would rather be fragmented and focused on differences and wallow in ignorance.
typical.
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- Joined
- Feb 10, 2003
Originally Posted by Nako XL
Not at all,
I clearly see what he is trying to say even though I don't agree with the way he is doing it. I don't agree with this notion of forcing him to embrace his "blackness".
He identifies himself based on his culture, ethnicity, heritage as opposed to his "race". This contingent is basing their argument on race and genetics, when in reality we ARE ALL a mix of everything.
I'm only speaking from a personal standpoint, I've mentioned the physical traits my parents have. It's a wide mixture, so to call myself a "White Mexican" is ridiculous since my family is littered with a variety of European and Indigenous features. I mentioned my dad looked like a carbon copy of an Aztec Warrior, his father (my grandfather) had a dark complexion with ocean blue eyes.
Seperating people solely based on race, an arbitrary term and designation, is ridiculous.
I don't think Anton's trying to force him to denounce being Dominican or to sudenly start repping Team Black Guy.
The point is he doesnt think he is Black. Even on a genetic level. So in his eyes he's not even denouncing it cuz he never was to begin with
It has nothing to do with cultural identity. Dudes are just trying to explain on a very basic level, "Yo you're part Black too. Just from a nice island with cool traditions."
There are Black Latinos... The two aren't mutually exclusive.
(As a quick aside, does anyone remember back in like 2004 when there was a movement to get rid of the word "Hispanic" because it was considered a racial slur slash term of ignorance?)
Wait wait wait wait, so Ninjahood is denouncing being black genetically? Really?
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Originally Posted by Nako XL
Not at all,
I clearly see what he is trying to say even though I don't agree with the way he is doing it. I don't agree with this notion of forcing him to embrace his "blackness".
He identifies himself based on his culture, ethnicity, heritage as opposed to his "race". This contingent is basing their argument on race and genetics, when in reality we ARE ALL a mix of everything.
I'm only speaking from a personal standpoint, I've mentioned the physical traits my parents have. It's a wide mixture, so to call myself a "White Mexican" is ridiculous since my family is littered with a variety of European and Indigenous features. I mentioned my dad looked like a carbon copy of an Aztec Warrior, his father (my grandfather) had a dark complexion with ocean blue eyes.
Seperating people solely based on race, an arbitrary term and designation, is ridiculous.
I don't think Anton's trying to force him to denounce being Dominican or to sudenly start repping Team Black Guy.
The point is he doesnt think he is Black. Even on a genetic level. So in his eyes he's not even denouncing it cuz he never was to begin with
It has nothing to do with cultural identity. Dudes are just trying to explain on a very basic level, "Yo you're part Black too. Just from a nice island with cool traditions."
There are Black Latinos... The two aren't mutually exclusive.
(As a quick aside, does anyone remember back in like 2004 when there was a movement to get rid of the word "Hispanic" because it was considered a racial slur slash term of ignorance?)
Wait wait wait wait, so Ninjahood is denouncing being black genetically? Really?
antonlavey
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Originally Posted by ninjahood
is this hipster really gonna tell me that im NOT latino/hispanic? like really?Originally Posted by AntonLaVey
Dominican is not a race. There are people in this county who have had white grandparents and great grandparents and they are considered black. What makes you 100% latino, cause you speak Spanish?
im not you @+%$@, no matter how bad you apparently want me to be
Whatever makes you latino, as much of it makes you black. Latino is your ethnicity, black is part of your "race". You're no more or less black than a lot of people you consider black. Simple concept. You're hispanic and black. Whether you personally choose to reject it is fine but don't speak for other hispanics who embrace their "African roots" and blackness.
Are you using "hipster" as a derogatory term cause I could just as well drop some adjectives to describe you as an insult but that is very not hipster.
antonlavey
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Originally Posted by ninjahood
is this hipster really gonna tell me that im NOT latino/hispanic? like really?Originally Posted by AntonLaVey
Dominican is not a race. There are people in this county who have had white grandparents and great grandparents and they are considered black. What makes you 100% latino, cause you speak Spanish?
im not you @+%$@, no matter how bad you apparently want me to be
Whatever makes you latino, as much of it makes you black. Latino is your ethnicity, black is part of your "race". You're no more or less black than a lot of people you consider black. Simple concept. You're hispanic and black. Whether you personally choose to reject it is fine but don't speak for other hispanics who embrace their "African roots" and blackness.
Are you using "hipster" as a derogatory term cause I could just as well drop some adjectives to describe you as an insult but that is very not hipster.
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because black latinos have african blood in them and are descendants of slaves. black latinos would not exist without slavery, end of story.
lets flip it for a sec. if i asked your girl if there was some white somewhere in her family would she say yeah? i bet my life savings she would.
she wouldn't dodge the issue. she would say yes or no.
if i asked her if she considered herself american what would she say?
and now, how about black?
being black doesn't cancel out other things just like being latino doesn't.
if somebody asks me, i'm pr, i'm black, i'm an american.
none of this i'm pr and black as in pr as a race and black as a race.
the spanish never gave a +$$$ about us.
and a nationality has never been a race. stop it.
