I’ve never lived in a Puerto Rican stronghold. Aside from my three years in Texas and a postdoc in a Latina/o studies program in Illinois, I’ve never really lived or worked in a big Latin@ community, either. And somehow — despite all the research and other trips over the years — I’ve never been in New York City in mid-June. While I’ve watched, in awe, the glorious spectacle that is the Puerto Rican Day Parade, I’ve never experienced it in person. So what does the annual National Puerto Rican Day Parade today mean to me? Continue reading “What is the National Puerto Rican Day Parade to a Boricua in Iowa?”
It’s a big weekend for Puerto Ricans in New York! The annual “National Puerto Rican Day Parade” in Manhattan will run from 11am-5pm EDT on Sunday June 14 and the parade returns to Brooklyn’s Sunset Park with a parade that goes from 5-8:30pm. Beyond pride in being Puerto Rican, Boricuas from around the world will also be celebrating a rich cultural heritage and a long history. As I write about in my new book, the Young Lords (in New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, and elsewhere) are a key part of that history in the diaspora.
With that history and heritage in mind, I wanted to offer a list of books on Puerto Rico and Puerto Ricans that can and does enrich and inform the coming celebrations. The list is history-heavy because that’s what I’m more familiar with and it’s also what people have been talking about in the lead-up to the parades. Due to the way Amazon’s links work, I’ve limited the list to some recent books only … with the exception of the first, which is an amazing entry point into Puerto Rican history, literature, culture, politics, etc. Another recent list includes 26 must-reads (most of which I’m not including here) that you should check out as well. In no particular order, here are the books (with descriptions from Amazon). Continue reading “Readings to Celebrate Puerto Rico and Puerto Ricans”
On what would have been the 90th birthday of Malcolm X, it behooves us all to remember the impact that great man had for many different communities. Although they blazed their own path in many significant ways, the Young Lords owed a great debt to the ideas and leaders from the Black and Third World Left.
So important was Malcolm X to the New York Young Lords — a group of, primarily, Nuyorican, radical youth fighting for freedom and justice in their community — that in the first issue of Palante published in New York City (in late 1969), their initial biographical feature was not on a great Puerto Rican leader. It was on Malcolm X and the relevance of his legacy.
In this short call to action, the Young Lords connected Malcolm X to the Black Panther Party, to the politics of Pedro Albizu Campos, and the need for Puerto Rican and African American solidarity in the nascent struggle against racist, classist oppression.
In a later issue of Palante, they published another piece on Malcolm that makes similar calls for imagining connections between the Puerto Rican and Black struggles against “amerikkkan” oppression.
So on this 90th anniversary of Malcolm X’s birth, I choose to remember his important deeds and words; but I also choose to remember some of the ways in which those deeds and words had uptake outside of African American and Black communities and served as a touchstone and rallying point for revolutionary politics in communities of color across the nation. The Young Lords were one, I think important, point of uptake in the Latin@ community that helped Malcolm X’s legacy live on.
If you’re interested in learning more about the New York Young Lords, check out The New York Young Lords and the Struggle for Liberation, which is due out from Temple University Press next month.
File this under shameless self-promotion … and coupons. It’s about the same price on Amazon (which might make better financial sense if you have Prime); but it’s also nice to buy directly from the press. Click the image below for a printable version of the flyer with the discount code. In the meantime, stay tuned for more posts about the New York Young Lords and information about the book in the lead-up to its release this June/July.
In an interview on decolonial love in the Boston Review, Junot Diaz reflects about the sites of critique saying, “if a critique … doesn’t first flow through you, doesn’t first implicate you, then you have missed the mark; you have, in fact, almost guaranteed its survival and reproduction.” What does that mean? For those of us doing work about/with colonized and otherwise marginalized peoples, it is imperative that we consider seriously the ways in which our own theoretical, critical, and interpretive choices implicate and challenge the structures of domination that interest us so much. In other words, critique needs to start where we’re at and where we’ve been — it needs to start with a look inward at the ways in which we have shut down or failed to open up the channels of response-ability.
So how does this take me to disavowal?
When I re-started working on my book, about four or five years ago, I approached the project from a different set of perspectives compared to my dissertation research. Back when I was a grad student (and a lot less gray), I was moved by the intellectual currents of the time and my place … which basically meant that I was enamored with postmodernism, poststructuralism, post-Marxism, and probably any other “post” I could get my hands on. I started my project on the New York Young Lords by taking the critical and theoretical heuristics I had been using with my prior project (on ballots as “sublime object” of democracy) and basically started reading the Young Lords through their optics.
That move was a mistake. It may have allowed me to make some “interesting” arguments (yes, the scare-quotes are purposeful) about how the Young Lords enacted certain radical democratic sensibilities and imagined new forms of citizenship, but those arguments were misguided. Perhaps worse, those earlier arguments — which structured my dissertation, my first Quarterly Journal of Speech essay on the Young Lords garbage offensive, and some other writings — enacted a form of violence by forcing the Young Lords into a Western/Northern theoretical apparatus that occluded what they were up to. My actions reproduced coloniality and I disavow those arguments.
Some other aspects of my earlier scholarship were probably fine, I think. In that same garbage offensive essay, for example, I advanced a set of arguments about social movements and the importance of doing work that examines the intersections of verbal, visual, and embodied discourses — and I stand by (most of) that stuff today, partly because I think the “hegemony of textualism” (Conquergood) is rooted in a modern/Western/colonial bias. But the other stuff — the Eurocentric paradigms about discourse and democracy that motivated my research — I disavow. Decolonial love requires that we generate response-ability and listen to the cries of the dispossessed, in all of their fugitive communications, so that we might bear witness to their challenges to the logics and rhetorics of modernity. Even better if we can seize the opportunity to speak with them in challenging those structures of domination. You can’t do that if your only way of seeing and hearing and feeling and speaking is located squarely within the colonial matrix of power / knowledge / being.
This post was motivated by the reflexive turns I took when re-approaching my project on the New York Young Lords. I’m indebted to the students and faculty in the Communication Studies department at the University of Denver for giving me the opportunity to discuss these thoughts in October 2014. I’m also motivated to post *at this moment* given the many conversations I keep having at the National Communication Association’s 100th Annual Convention about the aforementioned garbage offensive essay (and my disavowal of key parts of it). Finally, some of my observations in this post appear (and are expanded upon) in my forthcoming book, The New York Young Lords and the Struggle for Liberation (Temple University Press, 2015).
Friends of mine know that I’m a lover of technology, especially when it has the potential to keep me better organized and make certain tasks easier. For example, I’ve become an avid user of digital solutions in archival research because they can make your work more meaningful and useful down the road. A friend’s recent request on Facebook for information about software to aid in an ongoing research/writing project got me thinking about my next project … and that led me (again) to Scrivener.
I flirted with Scrivener long ago, first after reading about it on ProfHacker and then after a friend mentioned using it for his dissertation. “Flirt” may be an overstatement — really, I glanced across the room and proceeded on without any sustained engagement. Last week, however, I decided to download the app and really give it a fair shake by running through its extensive tutorial. I’m very glad I took a shot at it.
Scrivener seems great because it can keep all of your research, outlines, drafts, notes, fragments, and whatever else you want, all bundled up in one place where you can easily access individual documents, use tags, search efficiently, and more. Basically, it’s a one-stop-shop for the early-stage work that goes into a book project and the drafting process. It certainly has its idiosyncrasies (e.g., you have to “compile” text and export it in order to finalize your documents for submission); but I’m interested and convinced enough that I’ve decided to start my next book project — tentatively titled Possession: Crafting Americanity in Congressional Discourse about Puerto Rico — using this app and see where it takes me.
At present, my toolkit will be centered on Scrivener. I also plan to keep using Sente for citation management, Adobe Photoshop Lightroom for photographs, and will probably fall back on Microsoft Word or Apple Pages for final manuscript prep (although I’m entertaining Nisus Writer Pro and Mellel for that task).
If you have experience using Scrivener for a large project or even have a different workflow that you want to share, please feel free to comment below.
I made it “official” to my friends on Facebook sometime last month, but I never posted about it here: my book is officially under contract at Temple University Press and should come out sometime in 2015!!! The book, currently titled Delinking: The New York Young Lords and the Struggle for Liberation, is over a decade in the making. It began as seminar paper, turned into a dissertation, and has been been the subject of some of my journal articles and book chapters since then.
This book almost didn’t happen. In fact, after doing The Young Lords: A Reader (NYU Press, 2010), I’d pretty much given up on turning my research into a full book monograph. Why? Well, I had a serious case of topic fatigue … and that was combined with a difficult time thinking about what angle I wanted to approach it from. I had grown bored with the radical democratic focus of the dissertation and my early journal articles (a theoretical focus I now repudiate); and the next frame I started thinking through (one focused on nationalism) ended abruptly when I encountered a new published article that did much of what I had been thinking about. It took a stern talking-to from my former adviser (something like, “Come on … just publish the damn thing”) and a reminder about decoloniality from some college debaters to kick me into gear. So here I am, now, finishing the edits and reflecting a bit about the process. Continue on for a brief summary of the book and what I’ll be blogging about next…. Continue reading “Book Status Update”
Popping up on my Facebook page today was this story about Ukrainian women launching a sex strike against Russian men. The article on The Atlantic recounts that the Ukrainian women are certainly not the first to do it:
Of course, the women of “Don’t Give It to a Russian” are hardly the first to have this idea. Just last month, a group of women in Tokyo threatened not to sleep with any man who voted for a gubernatorial candidate who was seen to have outdated views on gender. In 2003, a group called the Women of Liberia Mass Action for Peace led a sex strike for an end to the Liberian civil war. And just a few years ago in Ukraine, the feminist group Femen called on the wives and girlfriends of the members of the prime minister’s cabinet to boycott sex in opposition to what they called the prime minister’s “caddish and humiliating attitude towards Ukrainian women.”
It is, in fact, a strategy as old as time. In the Greek comedy Lysistrata, the eponymous character rallies her fellow women to withhold sex from their husbands until they agree to end the Peloponnesian War. For what it’s worth, it worked for the women in the play.
I find it interesting that the article, in a U.S. American magazine, declines to make any connections to similar kinds of resistance within the U.S. Could it be that only folks outside our national borders could make such devious (non-)use of sex? Of course not! Although I’m sure there are many more examples of Lysistrata-style sexual strikes, the one with which I’m most familiar comes from the New York Young Lords.
In 1970, women in the Young Lords began meeting as part of a women’s caucus to discuss issues of racist-sexism (machismo) in society at large and within the structures of their organization. Facing pressure to stop the meetings — they were charged with “talking some of that crazy feminist bullshit” and with being “a bunch of white women” — they considered separating from the males in the organization and, according to one former Young Lord, “rejected that as being counterrevolutionary. We examined it; we talked about it; we critiqued it.” Also considered was the option of joining the Third World Women’s Alliance, a U.S.-women of color feminist organization challenging racism, imperialism, and sexism.
Rather than either disband the women’s caucus or split from the Young Lords, the women instead sought ways to resist. For example, women who were in intimate relationships with Young Lords men held a special meeting to discuss Aristophanes’ Lysistrata. In that meeting, they decided that they would no longer have sexual relations with their male partners until the central committee and organization were reformed. Denise Oliver recalls, “We knew we couldn’t go on strike because that would mean all of the programs for the people would collapse. That would be counterrevolutionary—we were not going to not do our work. And we were certainly going to not have anything to do with them that we were related to at all. ‘Hello. The revolution stops right here at the bedside.'”
While the sexual strikes, which lasted several weeks, weren’t a total success on their own, they played a clear role in heightening tensions within the organization and generating some of the conditions for substantive change. Lysistrata-style strikes aren’t just things that happen somewhere “out there”; they’ve taken place right here along with countless other forms of resistance to racist sexism in our colonial antiblack world. Such stories need to become more commonplace so that young people today have more inventional resources, what some of us rhetorical scholars call touchstones, to stylize modes of resistive engagement in our present(s) and future(s).
Do readers know of any other examples of Lysistrata-style strikes in the U.S.? Feel free to reply on Twitter or Facebook and/or leave them in the comments, here.
I’m sure, by now, everyone is aware of the Coca-Cola “It’s Beautiful” Super Bowl ad and the batsh*t crazy, racist, xenophobic responses it has garnered. If you haven’t seen the commercial, here you go:
Being the kind of person I am with the friends I have, my Twitter and Facebook feeds have started to fill with the various news stories unmasking the hateful and vitriolic responses to the ad. And I’m glad people are doing that. We should be offended at people spouting hate on the internet and anywhere else. We should act on that feeling of offense and take stands against it in online … but also in our homes, classrooms, and other daily interactions.
But we should also be careful not to jump to Coca-Cola’s defense. Responding to racism, xenophobia, and other craziness is a good thing, but we should not respond in ways that force us into defending a massive corporation and it’s colonization and homogenization of “American” culture. I remain sickened by the the hateful rhetoric spewed by folks who think that “America” is/ought to be white, English-only, etc. … and I am also sickened by mythologizing of “America” and Americanity by corporations, and through media and US policy. I worry that a commercial like this, absent critical discourses questioning it, reinforces a problematic vision of inclusion that leaves untouched the modern/colonial assumptions upon which it is based.
Only by questioning and challenging those assumptions can we begin to eradicate those values, beliefs, epistemologies, and ontologies that authorize the racist vitriol in the first place.
Clearly, I’m the world’s worst blogger. To even call myself a “blogger” is probably a misnomer because it would suggest *some* degree of regularity … which just doesn’t exist. I think part of the problem/difficulty for me is a reality of the tenure track, and another part has to do with the reality of my non-academic life.
Being on the tenure track, the last year of my life has been consumed by my book project (for which I should receive reader reports any day, now) … and it hasn’t helped that I also served as planner for the largest division in the National Communication Association. To those on the tenure-track who still find time to blog, micro-blog, or whatever in an active and productive way, my hat is off to you! I just don’t know how someone can find time to prepare classes, grade, teach, research, write, present, do service, etc. — not to mention have a life outside of work — and STILL manage to have a vibrant and productive online presence. I hope to start blogging a bit more on the topic of professionalization (especially as it relates to Latin@s and other peoples of color in the academy) once my book stuff gets nailed down; but until then, I’ll probably remain mostly silent.
Also in the last year, I’ve been busy helping to plan a wedding, long distance, with my (now) wife, Nicole Wanzer-Serrano. We tied the knot on December 28th in Dallas! 🙂
Needless to say, between doing “the long distance thing” and doing the necessary things to keep a tenure-track job at a research intensive university, it can be hard to find the time to get up here and post things about research, teaching, and life. That said, I’m going to work real hard to make it up here at least once a month and post some thoughts on something — ANYTHING — to try to form a habit.