From the Los Angeles Times
A bias based on ignorance
Mexicans' views on blacks are often based on popular depictions.
Eventually, that will change.
By Gustavo Arellano
November 25, 2007
Black-brown tensions are simultaneously overplayed and understated --
and I'll explain the paradox with the following embarrassing anecdote.
Years ago, a friend introduced me to an African American writer I had
long admired. When we finally met, I tried to greet the guy with a
soul handshake: a grip of the palms followed by the clasping of
fingers and ending with a gentle knuckle rap. The writer, however,
went for a conventional handshake, and his arm went limp when I
attempted my dextral gymnastics. We both grimaced.
"He didn't grow up in the 'hood, idiot!" my friend yelled at me after
the awkward exchange. D'oh! I assumed all black folks greeted each
other in that manner. Few black kids attended my overwhelmingly brown
elementary, junior and high schools, so I based my actions toward the
writer on pop-culture depictions of African Americans. And we all
know how accurate those are.
Was I a bigot? No. An ignorant dope? Absolutely. And that's the lens
through which I consider the troubles between African Americans and
people of Mexican descent in Southern California over the last couple
of years.
There is a problem between the two communities, and the onus falls on
us to fix it, as we are the ones taking over black L.A.'s historical
role as the most visible and vocal group demanding equality with
white Anglos. But the brouhaha isn't pathological or even permanent.
Unlike most Latin American nations, Mexico doesn't have a significant
Afro-Latino community -- about 1.5%, according to Mexican government
figures. As a result, Afro-Mexicans don't experience ruthless
discrimination from the population at large so much as a patronizing
attitude that treats them as perpetual negritos -- harmless, somewhat
amusing "darkies."
Most of the popular depictions of Afro-Mexicans I grew up with --
Memín Pingüín, the lovable, dark-skinned comic-book character who
looks like an ape, or the black characters on telenovelas or films --
made Stepin Fetchit seem as dignified as Cornel West. When Mexicans
migrate to the United States and interact with African Americans,
their attitudes toward blacks therefore ensure some degree of
cultural misunderstanding. And it's from this dehumanizing bias that
Mexican gang members justify their hate for innocent blacks.
But I'm optimistic. We must place such clashes in their historical
context. Assimilation in America isn't pretty -- witness Chicago's
ethnic wards, or "Gangs of New York." But it happens eventually.
Think of how black culture has become part of Mexican culture.
America's favorite Mexican song, "La Bamba," is the signature tune of
son jarocho, a musical form created by African slaves and indigenous
tribes in the southern Mexican state of Veracruz whose rolling
rhythms heavily influenced mariachi. One of mariachi's most famous
melodies, "El Son de La Negra" (Mexicans will know it by its opening,
lilting trumpets and looping guitar strums), translates as "The Song
of the Black Lady." And all Mexican parties eventually feature
cumbias, the slow, tropical dances of Colombia that emerged from the
country's rich African heritage.
In the States, the predominant audience for Los Angeles' nearly
forgotten R&B oldies artists like Brenton Wood and the Penguins are
second- and-third generation Chicanos. Mexicans cheer on the Lakers
and tune in to KPWR-FM (105.9) morning-show host Big Boy. Even less-
assimilated young Mexicans get into the mixing of cultures by
grafting Mexican regional music like banda (brass bands) and conjunto
norteño (the one with accordions) onto hip-hop beats to create a
future everyone can live with and shimmy to.
Over a decade ago, Tupac Shakur wondered, "Would it be L.A. without
Mexicans?" and urged solidarity between black and brown. Nowadays,
whenever I hear Tupac blasted from rattling SUVs, it's usually by a
Mexican. We learn. We assimilate. The road to racial harmony between
the two groups isn't pretty -- wasn't I dumb for my soul shake? --
but it's a road, not a wall.
Gustavo Arellano is a contributing editor to Opinion, the author of
the book "¡Ask a Mexican!" and a staff writer for the OC Weekly.
Copyright 2008 Los Angeles Times
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