By the time she was five, Barbara Idalissee Abadía-Rexach felt she carried a great responsibility on her shoulders: her black skin.
“[I decided] to get good grades and be the most well-behaved girl in the classroom because you can’t be Black, have bad hair, have bad grades and behave badly. That’s the stereotype [about Black people],” said Abadía-Rexach, professor of Afro-Latin studies at San Francisco State University.
Fighting against “structural and systemic racism” became a mission for the Puerto Rican anthropologist.
First by studying hard in her formative years, now by sharing her knowledge to liberate minds chained to the invisibility of the Black race. “There are still people in our [Latin] countries who, because we are not talking about race, do not recognize the existence of anti-Black racism,” said Abadía-Rexach.
Black Heritage Month is an opportunity to continue that mission, said Abadía-Rexach.
On the one hand, denouncing situations including Transportation Security Agent (TSA) interventions she claims to have endured twice at an airport in Austin, Texas. “My hair has been inspected because I have worn it [in the Afro-style],” said Abadía-Rexach, recounting a security check.
“They put their hands in my hair during the search,” she recalled. “They never reached into my hair when I wore it straight [relaxed]. When I looked back I didn’t see TSA agents putting their hands on other passengers’ heads,” she lamented.
“My hair is my body. It’s a horrible experience,” she added. “People stare at you and you think what happens if I say something? They are going to arrest me. You feel powerless,” said Abadía-Rexach.
On the other hand, highlighting the contributions of Black people to counteract “incomplete stories” that limit Black history to slavery. “Historically they have made us see that Black is bad,” said Abadía-Rexach author of “(Re) thinking about Blackness in Puerto Rican popular music.” “[Black] hair is bad, these [Black] people are violent. In other words, everything Black is associated with violence or bad things, ” she explained.
As an indirect result, Hispanics, Latino, and Caribbean Afro-descendants tend to identify themselves with anything but their Black heritage, said Abadía-Rexach.
During the 2020 Census, she participated in a campaign by the Ilé Collective that urged Puerto Ricans to identify themselves as Afro-descendants.
“Many said. ‘We are a mix. How is that Afro-descendant? ‘” said Abadía Rexach, who worked as a sociology professor at the University of Puerto Rico. “The fact that we are Afro-descendants or that we write that word [in the Census] is not going to cancel any other racial identity.”
She has continued that conversation in Negras [black women], a podcast featuring Puerto Rican Afro-descendants to fights “myths that, historically, have degraded the visibly of black people in the Puerto Rican nation.” The Ilé Collective for Radio Universidad de Puerto Rico production is available on Spotify.
Afro-Latino identity is gaining strength among Hispanics, but there is still a long way to go, said Abadía-Rexach.
Last year the University of Puerto Rico announced the creation of the first Afro-descendant program on the island.
The awakening, according to Abadía Rexach, transcends the color of the skin for Latinos, a group of a mixed heritage of Spanish, Indigenous and African roots.
“They know that the treatment they receive is like that of a Black or colored or indigenous person. So why play a game in a system that does not treat you differently by pretending to be a white person or identifying myself as a white person when it is not the experience we have,” she said.
People assume ‘I am white’
The pieces of that racial puzzle were harder to find for Whitney González. “Until years ago I did not realize that I was privileged as a Hispanic because I have white skin and many people know me and assume that I am white,” explained González.
However, beyond her pale skin, her green eyes have witnessed “a lot of discrimination,” said the Puerto Rican and Dominican writer. “My sister is dark-skinned, my dad is dark-skinned, but the rest of us are light-skinned,” said González, author of the travel blog, CityWhit.
Embracing her Black roots “was a personal journey that I had to take,” said González, a Florida resident.
A DNA test determined 20% of González genetic makeup is from Africa. Recognizing and reconnecting with her Black heritage inspired her to highlight attributes of her Afro-Caribbean identity including her curly hair.
She shares her Hispanic perspective on her podcast “Develop your dream” and supports natural beauty campaigns through partnerships with Hause of Curls, encouraging Latinas and Caribbean women to embrace their natural curls.
Last year she supported the Black Lives Matter movement after George Floyd’s death both on social media and incorporating slogans and hashtags in her personal style.
“I may not look African, but I have a large number of African [heritage] in my blood,” said González
Her ‘bad hair’ led the way back to her roots
When Sherly Tavarez decided to stop relaxing her curly hair the last thing in her mind was becoming an inspiration to a new generation. Five years later she has embraced her mane, thousands of web and social media Hause of Curls followers, and the responsibilities of being an Afro-Latina icon.
“I didn’t know about Afro-Latinos until I launched my Hause of Curls brand,” said Tavarez, who launched Hause of Curls as a clothing line that celebrates the natural beauty of people with curly hair.
“I wanted to learn about my hair and roots and where my curly hair came from. That’s when I really started talking to other people and doing research,” she explained.
Until then, the caramel-skinned young woman admitted that her identity was based largely on her Latino heritage. “I never considered myself Afro-Latin before launching Hause of Curls. It was like, ‘I’m a Latina. I’m not Black,’ because it’s something we didn’t talk about at home, in my community, or with my friends. It wasn’t something we talked about. Latinos are Latino and Blacks are Black, “she recounted.
As the natural roots of what others called “bad hair” began to emerge, the curls connected the young woman to her Black heritage. Also, newfound confidence.
The effect of comments like “comb that afro”, and “straighten that hair” no longer had an effect on her self-worth.
Instead of transforming her hair with chemicals, she decided to turn negative statements about natural hair into empowering phrases with her own line of T-shirts. “We really didn’t have any representation in the Latino community, [a place] where the people showed themselves accepting their curly hair”, she highlighted.
Her message is reaching a new generation, her mother Evelyn Olivero, decided to transition to curly hair after decades of chemical straightening. “Imagine being 60 years old and realizing that, Wow, I can wear my natural hair and feel good,” said Tavárez.
Talking about blackness is still a taboo “especially in our countries like the Dominican Republic,” declared Tavárez who fosters pride in self-acceptance through Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok among other platforms.
With that goal in mind, Tavárez launched a new line of T-shirts celebrating curly hair on Dominican Independence Day (February 28). “A celebration of our culture, our music, our food, our people,” said Tavárez.
“I think it was very important for us to shed light on that part [of our roots] since we are a Latin brand, you know, but we are also very connected with our African roots,” said Tavárez.
La Bomba: Keeping African heritage alive
Black Heritage Month has become another stage in Central Florida for the Cepeda family.
The international ambassadors of Puerto Rico’s Bomba y Plena dance, have kept their African heritage alive for many generations through a mix of cultural rhymes, and drumbeats marked by an ancestral dance.
The beat is a call from the motherland, said Bárbara Liz Cepeda, director of the Bomba y Plena Tata Cepeda School in Kissimmee, Florida. “[Puertorricans and people from all over the world] listen to the drums and they want to dance, but it is because of [their African heritage] they have that inside,” said Cepeda.
Connecting the points of that historical map with their biological map is the new approach of the Cepedas, who are part of the Africa Vive en Mí, a genealogical study that is connecting Puerto Rican families with their African ancestors through DNA testing,
The initiative was created by Melanie Maldonado Díaz, who began researching family trees in 2012. “It is a beautiful experience for families who have begun to identify with generations of African ancestors,” said Maldonado Díaz.
The 2021 Puerto Rican Genealogy Series that began on Sunday with the virtual panel “Africa Habla En Mí” where they revealed where the ancestors of Tata Cepeda, the matriarch of the Bomba group, came from. The investigation that includes two other families traced the lineage to points such as Guinea-Bissau, Nigeria, and Sierra Leone as part of the slave trade that included Puerto Rico.
After knowing the results of the DNA tests, Cepeda contemplates traveling to Sierra Leone in Africa to learn more about its history “and to continue promoting La Bomba, but also the culture and roots of what Africa is, especially in Sierra Leone because that’s where we know it is our matriarchal line,” said Cepeda.
