Can you believe that this man, no this person that is entrusted to interpret the US Constitution has said absolutely nothing for the past five years?! It’s not like he just hasn’t had much of an opinion on ANYTHING (which is even worse);but,  even when he is directly addressed for his thoughts nothing comes out of his mouth. I heard a recording from one of the sessions and let me tell you, it’s awkward! Upon further digging, I read a theory that he is self-conscious about his speaking voice/accent because he grew up speaking Gullah. Apparently, he’s also explained that he doesn’t see a need to ask the presenting lawyers questions because a lot of that is just political posturing. Uuhh, seriously?

I’ll put aside the fact that he and his wife are mired in conflict of interest accusations. I’ll also forget all the controversy that came with his nomination. However, this one just can’t be swept under the rug. I may be exaggerating, but I think this is a pretty important job that requires some pretty important decisions. Therefore, I can’t see how he could make these decisions without asking at least one question. Maybe he reads minds…or maybe he can see into the future and already knows what the answer would be should he decide to open his mouth

Am I overreacting? What do you think of a judge who doesn’t speak?

From afar, I’ve been watching this immigration bill unfold amongst Arizona immigrants, as well as the Federal Government’s reaction. One of things that has struck me as odd is that they have debated this issue as Latino problem. I may have missed it, but I have yet to see a black immigrant speaking about immigration reform and what it means to them. I know that Latinos outnumber us (heck, they outnumber Caucasians in some states), but why does it seem we are weak faction of this movement? Where are the representatives from the Caribbean and sub-Saharan African countries? From what I understood, they were facing just as many obstacles to obtain legal documentation.

Now, I’m not trying to divide immigrants by singling out blacks because we all have the same issues. However, I think it’s important that we fight just as hard or even harder for fair immigration reform. Otherwise, should we expect to reap the benefits?

That phrase is completely acceptable here in Caracas. But, can you imagine someone in the US saying, “Negro, come here!”

Since early on in my travels abroad, I understood that the word “negro” had very different connotations depending on the country. Each country has its own history and for the most part, the use of it still very common. While I was studying abroad in France, a friend of mine who is African-American was called “negresse” by a driver urging her to get out of his way. She was very upset after the incident and while I somehow felt that it wasn’t the same as if that same person would’ve said it English, I understood her distress. Since I started learning about black history every February in elementary school, I understood the use of the “N” word in the context of slavery and oppression.

Almost every day when I’m out, I’ll hear men call me morena or negrita mostly in the form of cat calls. The other day while my husband and I were playing a game of one-on-one basketball, one of the kids watching would call out “Eso, la negra!” whenever I scored. None of this really bothers me – until I started thinking about people saying it to my kids. I’m old enough to know the differences in using this word. I think I could even tell if someone were using it offensively in Spanish. Luckily, I have yet to feel any sort of racism here in Caracas, but what worries me is that their international upbringing won’t teach them the appropriate and inappropriate use of the word.

Since my kids are not in an American school, they’re not learning the same black history that I did. So most likely, hearing the word will never make them cringe as it does me. Regardless of culture/language though, I think it’s safe to say that black people have had a rough go of it throughout history. Therefore, I either have to drill into them the negative connotation the word possesses in English, or let them grow up feeling that it’s acceptable to use anytime. Both options are not that appealing to me, but I’m inclined to go with the first.

What do you think?

One of which is the prejudice between light and darker blacks that has created distorted image perceptions and class divisions among black people around the world. Recently, I was reading about Chris Rock’s new documentary Good Hair that premiered at the Sundance Festival this month. The title alone made me cringe. I immediately thought of using that phrase as a child, both in English and Haitian Creole, to describe hair on a black person that more closely resembled that of a Caucasian.

Somehow, somewhere along the way (I say that facetiously), we adopted that notion that anything resembling Caucasians was good and passed on this incorrect notion from generation to generation. I wrote a paper about this in college and was actually surprised to learn that it wasn’t restricted to black cultures; Asians and Latin Americans share this distortion of self-image, as well.

In any case, it is very difficult in this society to teach minority children about positive self-image, but I think it’s crucial in order to change what I think is culturally destructive. I had to consciously work to change my knee-jerk reactions to seeing people like Alek Wek or Susan Taylor and start seeing beauty differently.

What are your thoughts about this issue? How would you start changing the perception of beauty for the younger generations? 

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