Good Latino, Bad Latino

This weekend I attended the National Association of Latino Independent Producers's annual conference in Long Beach, California. Events like these are always a mixed bag for me. It's always a pleasure to reconnect with some wonderful people and meet new ones who believe that entertainment can be both fun, well-crafted and though-provoking. On the other hand, it's disheartening to feel that as a community we've hit a wall on some critical discussions (if we're truly having them at all.)

Case in point. I went to a panel called "Good Latino/Bad Latino: Do Latinos in Power Have to Hire and Portray Us Well?" My dear friend and business partner Elisha Miranda (who authored the YA novel The Sista Hood under the pen name E-Fierce) was on that panel. Call me biased, but she was the only one to address the issue. She said without reservation, yes, those of us who are arrive in a position of influence have an obligation to create opportunities for others, evolve with our craft and offer diverse and complex representation of our community.

But the panel quickly moved away from discussing the responsibility of media makers to our peers and audience to making excuses for why Latinos consumers should support anything and everything even if we don't like it. So if a TV show that is chockfull of steretoypes or is just poorly written flops, it doesn't became the creator's fault for serving up bland fare. It becomes the audience's fault for not tolerating mediocre and perhaps even damaging content. The argument was that if we don't support anything and everything a Latino produces, "we'll" never get ahead.

The way I see it, the only one who gets ahead is the person producing the problematic content and does so at the expense of his or her own people.

Now I'm not the last word on this issue, but I walked away from that panel feeling that we're not even trying to have an open and thorough discussion about this. In my opinion, support and accountabilty are two sides of the same coin. I feel for any artist - be it a filmmaker, author, recording artist, etc. -- to demand "support from the community" yet want to evade accountability for the images he or she offers is highly disingenous.

I once got a letter from a fan of my Black Artemis novels named Candace in Ontario. She started her letter with much love and praise for my work. Then she wrote:

One concern I have is that so far all of your heroines are beautiful. As disadvantaged as some of them are, don't you believe that beauty is an advantage in itself or at the very least a double edged sword? Do you think that there is a feminine ideal within hip-hop? If so, how does that affect women who don't fit that ideal. Please don't take this the wrong way. I'm not telling you what to write, but will you ever address the issue of feminine beauty in a male-dominated subculture and the trials of those who may not fit the ideal vs. those who do?

I didn't at all see this as a reader telling me what to write. And I certainly didn't take it wrong. On the contrary, I celebrated her feedback. I saw it as a supporter holding me accountable for the images I present, as she should. Shoo, Candace called me out, and rightfully so, LOL! (And because she expressed her concerns so honestly yet diplomatically, I wasn't able to conveniently dismiss the fairness of her critique by getting into a convenient snit about not liking the way she "came at" me. (Just a side lesson for all who might need it, present company included. C'mon... don't act like you've NEVER gone there.) So there's something to be said about opening yourself critique as well as being able to deliver critique from an affirming place.

So if an artist or entertainer wants his or her community to "support," s/he should be willing to "represent." Don't ask me to cop your joint, if when I say, "You know, I found your movie interesting, but, geez, all the villains were dark-skinned' or 'In your next book, you may want to depict the female characters as something other than dime pieces," your response is going to be, "Look, I just want to do my thing."

Yes, you are within your rights to do your thing. But if I feel that your "thing" involves dissing me, I'm within my rights to withhold payment for your misrepresentation. After all, I didn't order that.

Pulling George's Coattail

Last night when accepting his Oscar for Best Supporting Actor, George Clooney made an interesting statement. In response to the notion that Hollywood is out of touch with mainstream America because of its strident liberalism, he said that he was proud to be part of an industry that discussed issues and made films that pushed in social change.

In one notable example, Clooney praised the Academy for bestowing an award on Hattie McDaniels at a time when she was still forced to sit in the back of the theatre. Well, I hope that someone will remind George that the same Academy later denied Ms. McDaniel burial in the Hollywood Cemetary. Still I appreciate his intentions, and I have faith that he is esconced enough in his liberalism to openly acknowledge his ignorance. How mad can I be at him when I sincerely doubt that many of the Black actors in that audience themselves did not know that?

And I hope while the Hollywood elite celebrates the Best Picture win it gave itself for the self-congratulatory film "Crash," it will occur to someone that, yes, in fundamental ways it still remains out of touch with mainstream America. After all, Academy voters have yet to realize that the majority of Black people in America are not so hungry for their acceptance that we celebrate the nomination of our actors in the most stereoytpical of roles. As they party hearty over the win of the contrived, heavy-handed, and at time unrealistic treatise of race in LA called "Crash," many Blacks are mortified this morning that they bestowed an artistically mediocre and purposefully misogynistic rap song its highest honor.

Sorry, George, the Academy is out of touch in ways that should not make you proud at all.

If It's So Hard Out Here for a Pimp. . .

. . . just imagine what it's like for the ho.

APB: Latina Book Clubs

Are you a member of a book club either comprised of Latina readers and/or focused on reading books by Latina authors?

If you are, I want to hear from you! Email me at and tell me all about it. And please consider having a website or online forum so authors like me can find y'all!

I know such clubs exist. When I was writing Divas Don't Yield, I did a research trip to Omaha, Nebraska as it's one of the cities in which my heroines stopped on the way from NYC to Frisco (can't tell you more than that and not give away the story!) I was headed to Omaha for a speaking engagement at the University of Nebraska for Black History Month since I was invited to speak about Black women and misogyny in hip hop. After accepting the invitation, I decided to come early and stay later -- extending my time in Omaha for an entire week -- so I could get to know this midwestern city.

During my stay there, I had the pleasure to meet the executive director of the Latina Resource Center (which also makes an appearance in Divas.) She invited me to meet with her book club -- a diverse group of women -- who read books by Latina authors and meet monthly discuss them at a cozy independent bookstore. The group did not consist of just Latinas, but also African American and White women who for one reason or another felt a kinship to Latino cultures. For example, one woman was actually raised in Panama while another taught Spanish literature at the university.

So I got to thinking... if there's a Latina book club in Omaha, NE where the Latino population is young yet booming, surely there must be similar clubs all over the U.S.

The problem, however, is that unlike African American book clubs, it seems that very few Latina book club yet have an online presence. African American women in the U.S. have a very long tradition of coming together to read and discuss books and the issues they raise (one of my favorite authors Gwendolyn Pough is doing research on this very topic and will soon publish a book about it.) These intrepid women, including RAWSISTAZ and A PLACE OF OUR OWN to name only two, have brought this social practice into the new millenium by establishing a presence on the internet. They use listservs and bulletin boards to facilitate and expand their discussions, publish their reviews (especially on Amazon and on their own websites), and hold chats or interviews with authors.

I'd love to see Latinas follow the lead of African American women in this regard. I have no doubt that it's not a matter of "if" but only "when." But whether your club is online

or not, I'd love to know about it and spread the word to other Latina authors.

In fact, if you can make it to Miami Beach on the weekend of May 19th-21st, you will want to attend Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez's Chica Lit Fiesta. You won't have a better opportunity to have a slumber party with some of your favorite Latina writers!

Heartbreak on MySpace

I finally heeded the urging of all the young 'uns around me and joined MySpace. I've even enlisted my homegirls twenty-year old brother to pimp out my spot, LOL. In addition to inviting people I already know to join my list of friends, I did a search for members who listed one of books among their favorites. More on that in a minute 'cause I want to end on a good note.

But first let me vent a little on a heartbreaking observation. Of course, I'm a biased author, but I truly believe that books -- like music -- are for everyone. Now I don't expect everyone -- especially young people -- to be as avid a reader as I was (and still am.) Today's youth have so much more competing for their dollars and attention than I ever did. But there is literature out there for all tastes, interests, and, yes, even attention span! Hell, browse the daily paper or pick up a comic book or graphic novel once in a while. It's all good!

Now I can't say it was a surprise to browse MySpace and see how many young men don't read. I've accepted that despite the fact there's literature for everyone, not all people like to read, and that for various reasons, men are particular inclined to do so with distinct purpose rather than for pleasure. So be it. Boys especially have even more competition -- from videos to sports -- for their disposable income and recreational hours. But so many of the young men were practically BRAGGING about HATING books as if they much preferred to suffer a swift kick to their nether parts than read.

When the @#$% was reading declared unmanly and who do I bitch slap for that?

OK. Enough of the negativity and onto the good stuff. After having my heart broken at the scores of boys who hate books, it was put together again by the number of fans of my books on MySpace. I emailed each and every one I could to give them my thanks for their support. I'm looking forward to getting to know them better. And since they're overwhelmingly female, maybe we can come together and organize around getting the men in our lives to read.

I've already started at home. My father like to read occassionally, but of course, he much prefer to watch TV. Now Ive got him reading about two books per month. When I visited my parents in Puerto Rico where they've retired, I packed a bunch of books-turned-movies for Pa. I offered to help him put up that hammock he had lying in the corner of the gazebo and then handed him The Godfather. When he finished it, I handed him Runaway Jury. When Pa finished that, I handed him Disclosure. Now my parents are back in New York for a spell, I made sure to stack up on more mass paperbacks suited to his taste. He even asked me, "You got any more books."

Do I got anymore books?

It hasn't been made into a film, but I gave him Michele Martinez's Most Wanted (that's right, tweak that Latino pride) which he completed in days. Then he moved on to Mario Puzo's Omerta. And when he's finished with that, I've already got Deep Freeze by Lisa Jackson waiting for him. Mind you, I have yet to read any of these books myself. Then it's off to the bookstore to stack up on all the John Grisham, Nelson De Mille, and Michael Crichton I can afford. That should buy me some time to dig out The Da Vinci Code wherever the heck I stored it.

For now it's back to MySpace to add a slogan to my home page: Real Men Read.

The Cover of "BURN". . .

. . . is here! What do you think?

Carolinas on My Mind

At this rate, I may become a Southern gal.

Yesterday, I returned from the South Carolina Book Festival in Columbia where I had a wonderful time. I sat on a panel along with Chris Castellani and local heroine Dori Sanders where we discussed ethnic literature. The question posed to us by moderator Carmen Harris: should authors strive toward a consensus narrative? That is, should we downplay our respective racial and ethnic heritages in an attempt to create something more "universal."

I have "universal" in quotes because I find that when popular artists are pressed to do something "universal," "mainstream," or "broad," what is sought is actually something not universal at all. The assumption is always that nothing in my experience is universal, mainstream or broad. That I as a an Afro-Latina from a working-class family in urban community am not the norm. On the contrary, I am the "Other," and for acceptance I should draw attention away from my "otherness" in an attempt to "crossover" for no one who is not just like me would be in my stories.

In other words, "universal" becomes a code for "white."

And this whiteness we should strive for is bland, devoid of ethnicity, class, religion or any of the other things that make humans complex and interesting. So a consensus narrative, in my opinion wouls ont only be white, it would be a narrow whiteness that excludes Catholics, Jews and Buddhists. There would be, for example, no Italians, Irish, Germans, Polish or Greeks. And you can forget about western cowboys, rural farmers or urban bus drivers.

Well. Chris (the son of Italian immigrants raised in Delaware) and Dori (an African American daughter of the South) and I agreed. At best, a consensus narrative would be terribly boring because of the richness in humanity that would be lost. At worst, it would be dangerous as people who could be deemed "other" by the those with power would be rendered invisible.

The South Carolina Book Festival was wonderfully organized and well attended. On Saturday night, they treated the authors to some home-style BBQ at a place called the Palmetto Pig. If you're pretentious, you might not have appreciated the checkered table cloth, bandanas for napkins and the serve-yourself buffet. . . and your stuffiness would've caused you to miss out on some damned good fried chicken and iced tea.

I had some great conversations (and even a few debates) with authors Millenia Black, Tyehimba Jess (who posed a great question to our panel that linked hip hop lit to the Black Arts Movement), and Darryl Lorenzo Wellington (who wrote an interesting review of the book written by Strom Thurmond's daughter for The Nation).

In fact, Essie Mae Washington-Williams was at the Palmetto Pig with us, sporting a cherry red suit and a grey hat. The whispers at our table -- from African American and White local authors alike -- is that they wish she would have held her infamous father accountable for his racism. I haven't read her book, but according to the local authors, it reads as someone who is still yearning for the unattainable acceptance of her absent father.

BTW, you all have Milennia to thank for the fact that comments are permitted again on this blog. Until she mentioned how much she wanted to respond to my RANDALL IS RIGHT post and could not, I had no idea that I had accidentally turned off the capability to post comments! And here I was thinking, "Gee, everyone's stopped reading my blog," because I used to get (and appreciate) your comments all the time. You can imagine my confusion when I posted commentaries about such controversial topic as The Apprentice and The Boondocks, and no ventured an opinion! I guess when some joker decided to post spam and I changed the features to prevent that, I unknowingly went too far and shut the whole darn thing off. I'm so sorry, you guys! And thank you to my "labelmate," Millenia!

It was also fun to connect with my other labelmate Electa Rome Parks (that's Electra without the R) and her charismatic and funny homegirl Sharon. Jennifer Lopez, Terry McMillan, Star Jones. . . what did we NOT talk about? (Sorry, I ain't telling you what we said. All I'll say is this: if you've wondered about it, chances are, we did, too!) And inspirational fiction author Reshonda Tate Billingsley and I commiserated over the mixed blessing having multiple book deals.

I came home on Sunday night from my brief but enjoyable trip to Columbia, SC to fantastic news. I have been invited by the Carolina Circuit Writers Consortium to be their 2007 Artist in Residence. Now not only will I be headed to the Triangle Area (for you hardcore Yankees, that's Durham, Raleigh and Chapel Hill, North Carolina), I will be there for several weeks at a time, teaching young people of color the joys of writing. I'm so excited about the opportunity, I can't sit still. In fact, I'm headed there in April to meet with CC Writers so we can being planning this amazing program.

Hopefully, while I'm in the Triangle, I can set up an event to meet more of my Southern readers. Maybe my experiences will inspire the next Black Artemis novel. It'd be hot to set a hip hop story in the South if I can learn enough about the area to do it right. Any ideas?

'BURN" is (Almost) Done, and the Contest is Definitely Won!

If all Monday's could be this good. Not only have I just submitted the mansucript for my third novel BURN to my editor at New American Library/Penguin, I drew the winner of the my first contest.

First the correct answers to the five questions:

1. The name of Cassandra and Leila's principal in EXPLICIT CONTENT is MS. OLIVERA.

2. In EXPLICIT CONTENT, the hip hop artist that Cassandra and Leila have a debate about on the way to the concert is LI'L KIM.
3. In PICTURE ME ROLLIN', Priscilla had her ears pierced THREE TIMES.
4. Esperanza rubs COCOA BUTTER into the scar on her chest in PICTURE ME ROLLIN'.
5. The title of the next Black Artemis novel is, of course, BURN!

Although several people had all the correct answers, I could choose only one winner. So as per the contest's rules, I took all the qualifying entries and randomly selected one. The winner is:

JASMINA OF RIVERSIDE, CALIFORNIA!

Congratulations, Jasmina, and use your $50.00 American Express gift card in good health! Thanks to all of you who enter, and please continue to try and win future contest. Now there may not always be such an elaborate prize, but I'll try to keep it interesting. :)

Randal Was Right

Maybe we should not be surprised, but now that a person of color -- a Black man to be exact -- has won "The Apprentice," some Americans have forgotten how capitalism functions, and the racist backlash has begun. I won't bother to engage the nonsense being spewed on boards at AOL and Yahoo! Read any of those boards after ANY article that mentions a person of color has been published, and you'd think that you'd have stumbled into a cyber-meeting of the Klan. I'm more outraged at the supposedly liberal news media criticism of Randal Pinkett for not choosing to share his deserved spoils with the second place Rebecca Jarvis.

First, let me say that I happen to know Randal Pinkett. We were both in the final cohort of the Next General Leadership Program sponsored by the Rockefeller Foundation. I can tell you that not only is he a great mind, but he's a class act and a good soul (not to mention a snazzy dresser. We used to tease him about his GQ outfits all the time!) Having been in NGL with Randal for almost two years, when he announced that he had been selected to join the cast of this season's "The Apprentice," I knew that he would win by (1) the strength of his own ability and character, and (2) the fact that the impetus to create entertainment (i.e. put people on the show more for their personality than their skills) would ensure that some of his competitors would be weak.

One thing that set Randal apart from most contestants on any season of "The Apprentice" is that he's just a genuinely and consistently likable guy. Lots of folks in the corporate world rightfully pride themselves on being real movers and shakers. Very few, however, can boast that they are NICE people. If anything, too many busines folks perceive being nice as weakness as if you can't be shrewd without being nasty! The most underappreciated aspect of Randal's win, I think, is that we witnessed a rare instance when integrity prevailed.

So it really shocks me that after weeks of earning not only the respect but also the unabated fondness of his colleagues, folks now criticize Randal for not agreeing to Trump's suggestion that he hire Rebecca, too. This is not a cutthroat guy, nor was it a cutthroat decision that he made. The truth is, it was the shrewd business decision. No matter how much you may like and respect the person, you do NOT share your power with the also-ran. It may not be the sweetest thing in the world to do, but it's not in and of itself a terrible thing either, and in the world of business, it's the right thing. Even Trump knew it (more on that in a minute.) Yet by doing what any smart business person of any race or sex might have, Randal has gone from being painted as the overwhelmingly deserving favorite to reality TV show villain. See, an educated Black man who knows his worth is most dangerous Black man there can be.

Even more ridiculous than attacking Randal for not sharing his new position is the notion floating around that he had the job on lock weeks before the finale in Trump's effort to make a token hire. Let us not forget that that this is the same Donald Trump who bought a full page ad in the New York Times calling for the death penatlty for the men accused in the Central Park Jogger rape case (of course, there was no full-page ad pleading mea culpa when DNA evidence led to the overturning of those convictions.) While I don't doubt that Trump's producers look for people of color (and women for that matter) for the sake of diversity and entertainment (don't you dare tell me Omarosa was on that show because she's some great business mind!), my response to those who speculate that Randal was given his win weeks before the live finale is this: bullshit. If you followed the show, episode by episode, it's undeniable that Randal earned his victory every step of the way. So even if you want to believe that Randal was put on the show out of white liberal guilt, you cannot deny that he won that job fair and square (surprising the hell outta all of 'em in casting.)

It was ludicrous for Trump to suggest that Randal share the job. Oh, now that the brother won he can't be the only one calling the shots? My guess is that Trump did it for several reasons. First, Randal was such a more superior candidate than Rebecca, his win bordered on predictable so Trump wanted to throw a curve into the process for the sake of entertainment. Furthermore, Trump has also been accused of being sexist -- even more so than being racist -- and here he saw a chance to "prove" he wasn't. Had Randal accepted the ridiculous proposition, Trump would've killed two birds with one stone. But Randal didn't let him get political points at his expense, and while I'd love to see a woman win "The Apprentice," neither was Rebecca the right woman nor was this the right way for a woman to win. If she herself believes that she is as outstanding as Trump praised her to be, she should be at least puzzled if not offended by and suspicious of Trump's pandering. (And I wonder if, had she the opportunity to gain the job that way, if she would have been tough enough -- apparently Trump's favorite trait of Rebecca's -- to turn it down because of the way it was offered to her. )

Some have argued that Randal could have been more "gracious," but I actually think the way he refused to share the apprenticeship with Rebecca was quite gracious. If he wants to hire Rebecca to work FOR him in a position that fits her experience and skill levels, that would be ideal. But Trump's proposition was to share his position, and this is a business venture where the buck has to stop and start with one. Trump himself has admitted to the media that while he was suprised that Randal shot down the proposition, Randal's independent thinking affirmed that he made the right choice in choosing him over Rebecca. (And unlike some suddenly touchy folks who bizarrely are expecting to witness unprecedent levels of compassion from the competitors of a reality TV game show, I think Randal nixed the proposition gracefully. He did not trash Rebecca, and he used humor to argue compellingly that he was the best, single person for the job.) Now since he has never done this to the White male winners of past seasons, I can only wonder if Trump was testing Randal or not. But he has gone on record saying that he RESPECTS Randal for his unwilligness to share the position. Had Randal given into the emotion of the moment of winning and said, yes, Trump would doubt him now.

To me there is one unsung heroine in the finale of "The Apprentice," and her name is Marshawn Evans. I want to give a loving shout out to that sister for being the first to stand up loud and clear for Randal in the last episode. After watching Omarosa go out of her way to sabotage Kwame who could've won "The Apprentice" the first season (don't remember Trump asking winner Bill to share his job with him), it was heartening to see a woman of color stand by her brother when it mattered most. Reality TV is notorious for casting people of color who won't mesh. I've seen so many shows where the solitary Black man and Black woman loathe each other, it can't be a coincidence. And it's usually because one of them assumes that they'll have some kind of affinity toward each other because of race, but the other is bending over backward to ingratiate her/himself with the white cast members (not trying to be "too Black, too strong. Daps to you, Marshawn.

And congratulations, Randal. Revel in your win, 'mano, and keep your head up. Sometimes you have to look at the hate as a blessing in disguise -- it's often a sign that you're doing everything right.

Miami Book Fair International

Several weekends ago, I participated in the Miami Book Fair International. In its 22nd year, this prestigious literary event happened despite expected cancellation in the aftermath of Hurricane Wilma. I flew into the Miami International and stayed at the Biscayne Bay Marriot.

My friend Gepsie Metellus, executive director of the Sant La Haitian Neighborhood Center picked me up from the airport and took me to a restaurant called Tap Tap. I treated Gepsie to a mojito, and she brought me up to date on Haitian politics. It seems like folks are disheartened by the devolution of Aristide after investing so much hope that his election would signal the beginning of the end of the corruption and violence. I always learns so much from Gepsie, and her passionate dedication to the advancement of her community never cease to impress and inspire me. Because of leaders like her, I keep the faith that the Haitian people will one day see considerable, positive change in their beloved homeland.

The following day -- a Sunday -- I do an afternoon reading and signing at the fair which took place on the campus of Miami-Dade Community College. A kind engineering student named Mario drives me to the campus, and we talk about our latest discovery of audiobooks. For many reasons, I will never give up books in print, but gadget queen and tech diva that I am, I am now a member of Audible.com.

At the fair's location, the organizers set up a wonderful hospitality suite for the authors in the library. There I was thrilled to reconnect with mystery author extraordinaire Carolina Aguilera-Garcia of the Lupe Solano detective series. Carolina and I met last spring during La Voz Latina, an event showcasing Latino authors in Arkansas (yes, Latinos in Arkansas.) She's as warm and funny one-on-one as she is before I crowd.

Remembering what a joy it was to hear her speak in Arkansas, I made a point to see Carolina in action after my own panel. She was scheduled to appear with Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez, best-selling author of Dirty Girls Social Club and Playing with Boys. Unfortunately, Alisa did not make the fair, and so I missed my chance to thank her in person for the amazing endorsement she gave in support of my debut chica lit novel Divas Don't Yield. It's all I can do to not jumpt the gun and post the quote in its entirety here. That's how amazing it is, and even though it's been a few weeks since I received the fantastic news from my editor at Random House, I'm stil shocked and humbled.

Still Carolina wowed the crowd with her funny anecdotes and affable personality. Her trio of lovely and accomplished daughters Sara, Antonia and Gabriella were in the crowd, and one fair attendee asked, "What was it like to have a private eye for a mom?" Yes, Carolina was a licensed P.I. for over ten years -- talk about writing what you know!

Her daughter's reply: "We didn't get away with anything!"

As for my own panel, I finally had the opportunity to meet Angie Cruz, trailblazing author of Soledad and Let It Rain Coffee. We have some friends in common, and it was wonderful to learn that Angie's without a doubt the sweetheart everyone says she is.

Having been born and raised in the United States when I did, I grew up being more aware of my Puerto Rican culture than my Dominican heritage within an American context. Still I am my mother's daughter, and her influences did not elude me. I only needed someone or some thing to mirror them to me. But the work of older, celebrated Dominican novelists did not resonate with me until Angie Cruz and Angie Cruz and Nelly Rosario pen to paper. I suspect it's a combination of generation, class and geography (with a dash of gender although I ain't mad at Junot Diaz), but until I read Soledad and Song of the Water Saints, I didn't relate to the Dominican heroines of other novels. I did not see myself in them. I was a different kind of Dominicana.

But reading Angie and Nelly's novels were more than just enjoyable way to past the time or learn from the example of other autora's good writing. They were an integral part of my ongoing discovery of what facets of my upbringing and identity -- from the foods I love to the dichos I often repeated -- that were gifted to me from the island of Quisqueya with my mother as the bearer. By writing these stories, these hermanas revealed to me pieces of myself and even my mother, nuggets of gold just waiting to be sifted from the sands of my Americaness. It's blessing that I wish all lovers of the written word could experience. Everyone regardless of race, ethnicity or culture should have at least one author or book that introduces them to an aspect of their heritage that had always been there but suppressed for whatever reasons.

I also discovered a new author named Jill Ciment. She was on the panel with Angie me, and she

read from her latest novel The Tattoo Artist. I'm not easily intrigued (hell, I don't know if I would picked up my own novels if someone else had written them), but The Tattoo Artist has shot up on my to-read list. It's the story of young Jewish from the Lower East Side who falls for a revolutionary during the late 20s. The concept captured my attention as well as Jill's beautiful writing so into the Amazon cart it went.

Carolina adopted me for several hours, taking time after the fair to bring me to her cozy home and giving me a tour of South Beach. I could not have asked for a more interesting guide as we dipped from popular strips to interesting side streets. And Carolina gave me some great advice about the publishing industry, too.

So in just two days I made new friends, received mentoring and went on a private tour of one this country's most interesting cities. That and more in just two days. Thank you, Miami Book Fair International!

As I stated in the previous posting, I've uploaded audio reading the excerpt of PICTURE ME ROLLIN' in which Esperanza reads an essay by poet Audre Lorde in her book SISTER OUTSIDER. In this essay, Lorde writes, "Your silence will not protect you." This scene in the novel appears on pages 272-273.

Your Silence Will Not Protect You

Before leaving to catch my plane to Miami this afternoon, I did an interview on a Magic City-based radio show. The show is called And the Women Gather and is hosted by Lorna Owens. We were discussing Picture Me Rollin', misogyny in hip hop and other things. Then she opened the phone lines so listeners could call in with their questions and comments.

The one caller who made it through was an angry man. He yelled, "YOUR SHOW SUCKS, BITCH!" And it wasn't censored.

Lorna and I were silent for a few seconds. Not that I didn't have a response, but I wanted to respect that I was a guest on her show. And since she was in the studio in Miami, and I was at home in New York City, I could see her and use her body language or facial expressions to guide me.

We eventually recovered, turning back to the subject at hand, but I first had to acknowledge the verbal attack. I didn't want to make things worse or give it more energy than it deserved, but I still felt it had to be addressed. So I said something to the effect: "Well, Lorna, there's an example of the misogyny we were just discussing. When women speak their truth, some men feel threatened." While I kept my language diplomatic, my tone had an undeniable edge to it.

Lorna was a bigger woman than I was. She wished for the brother to find the healing that he needed. And she meant it.

The interview went back on track and ended on a good note, but that ugly moment stayed with me long after I hung up. I mean, some dude actually got up that early on a Saturday morning to listen to a show he didn't like, waiting for his chance to call in and spew hate. At my worst moment this morning, I was wondering if this was the kind of cat who would go so far as to, say, roll up on me at my reading at the book fair and, like, set off some shit.

I saged. I asked my ancestors -- some whose names I only learned a month ago -- to protect me. And I preoccupied myself with last minute errands before heading out to the airport to keep my mind from replaying the nasty episode in my head.

On the bus to LaGuardia, I started reading a new book I had bought on writing called Word Painting: A Guide to Writing More Descriptively by Rebecca McClanahan. At one point, McClanahan quotes a passage from poet Audre Lorde to demonstrate the vividness with which she describes an ordinary household item. The name Audre Lorde immediately evokes Picture Me Rollin' for me be cause my protagnist Esperanza discovers Lorde's work during the course of the novel. In particular, I quote a particular passage from Sister Outsider that resonates with Esperanza at a critical point in the story, and reading Audre's name in Word Painting echoes the lines in my head:

"I was going to die, if not sooner than later, whether or not have spoken myself. My silences have not protected me. Your silence will not protect you."

And as I repeated these words to myself like a mantra, all my anxiety and paranoia about how far a hateful brother might go started to melt. I had said what I had to say as did Lorna. And if this dude wanted to wild out because of it, well, my staying quiet would not have prevented him. My silence would not protect me. And if in the most likely scenario, he had other things to do on a Sunday afternoon than track me down to do God knows what because I suggested he was threatened by women critiquing the misogyny in hip hop, where would that leave me if I had not said my piece? Kicking myself on Sunday night for (1) wasting time and energy worrying about something that never transpired, (2) holding myself in such high regard that someone would go to such extremes to silence me, and (3) taking that misogyny -- even internalizing it by blaming myself for what happened -- by not standing up for myself.

Whatever's going to happen is going to happen. I can't control anyone else, least of all those who feast on hate and derive a false sense of power from violating others. I only can control myself, and I do myself a tremendous disservice by when -- as Audre Lorde wrote and Esperanza discovers in Picture Me Rollin' -- I betray myself into small silences because my silence will not protect me. By being silent, I do the work of the hateful for them.

I closed the book and sat there in amazement. In Picture Me Rollin', Audre's words come to Esperanza at a certain time and change the course of her life. Now I believe in synchronicity so I have no doubt that these same words came to soothe me in my own moment of distress. Still I was bowled over about the power that particular sentence -- and even just Audre's name as the woman who authored them into existence -- wielded over me personally. I had forgottent that even as I incorporated them in a novel hoping to touch young women just like Esperanza in the same way they had touched me when I first read them.

Despite being a woman of words, I myself had underestimated just how powerful words can be both in their presence and absence. These words returned to me at time when I needed them, dissipating anxiety, paranoia, and fear. Imagine if they had never been written or if I had never read them.

I'm still amazed. When I return home, I'll post another audio entry reading that passage of Sister Outsider that I quote in Picture Me Rollin'. I hope that you will listen to them, and that they will do a similar magic in your life according to your needs. And I pray that the lessons that I relearned today stay with me for a very long time, especially as I continue to promote this novel and finish Burn.

Synchronicity is real.

Words are magic that can be used to heal or harm.

My silence will not protect me.

In this audio, I'm reading an excerpt from the twelfth chapter of my debut novel "Explicit Content." In this scene, Cassandra is negotiating her recording contract with G Double D, the CEO of Explicit Content. In the novel, this scene appears on pages 133-135.

This is an excerpt from the fifteenth chapter of my second novel "Picture Me Rollin'." In this scene, Esperanza visits Maite Rodriguez, her GED English teacher and new mentor. Maite tells Esperanza how she met Isoke Oshodi, a former Black Panther and Esperanza's former cell mate at the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility.

Aqui to Be Called Negrito Means to Be Called Love

This title of this post is the last line of one of the most famous poems of Pedro Pietri, one of "Nuyorico's" most celebrated artist called Puerto Rican Obituary.

The poem came to mind because a good friend -- an African American woman who is improving her ability to speak Spanish (hell, I already think she speaks it great. Way much better than I do) -- sent me an email today about Shakira's song and video La Tortura. If you've seen the video, you know that Shakira gyrates her oil-slicked body while featured artist Alejandro Sanz coos, "Oye, negrita, mira, no te rajes. . . Oye, mi negra, no me castigues más." So my friend wanted to know what was up with this cat calling her negrita while she slithers around in black oil.

Fair question. It just goes to show how careful we must be with our language and images, especially when we combine them and present them to an audience that may not be familiar with our cultural nuances. Regardless of race, ethnicity or culture, we often do or say things with little knowledge or understanding of the historical context that gave rise to them, taking for granted that our true meaning and intentions will be understood. Then when it isn't. . .

So it took both honesty and courage for my friend to voice her suspicions. I also appreciate that she was not invested in being offended Had she been right, I would have had no problem admitting, "Yeah, girl, that was some racist shit." (Just like I had no problem saying that I could've done without seeing Shakira dancing in petrol.)

But it actually wasn't some racist shit. As I responded to my friend, I thought I should also explain this to people who read my books, especially African American readers who may not have much interactions with Latinos. Having read Explicit Content and Picture Me Rollin', you might have gathered that Latinos often use the negro or negra as a term of endearment. Often times the person being called this may actually be a Black person. . . but not necessarily so.

See, what you may not realize unless you grew up with Latinos (especially those of Caribbean descent) is that the term has little to do with color. Regardless of your skin color, when we're feelin' you, you may be lovingly called negro, negra, negrito or negrita. You may have skin the color of the midnight sky, have a heavy dose of leche in your cafe, or even sport the bluest eyes. Chances are that if we've determined that we want to be your friend, relative or lover, you will hear, "Call me soon, negrita, so we can hang out."

And this is NOT in the same vein that some African Americans say, "What's up, n*****?" You have to keep in mind that the way race is conceptualized in Latin America is quite different than in the United States. That's another post for another time, but in the mean time you can learn more by reading an article I wrote for MiGente.com called Black Como Yo: Latinos Embrace Their African Roots and Fight for Racial Equality. For now I will say that the use of negro or negra as terms of endearment in the Latino community does not have a parallel to the use of the word n***a and its variations becuase they do not carry the same historical (namely racist) legacy.

Am I saying that there's no racism within the Latino community? I wouldn't dare! I know better than that. Unfortunately, despite our own history of enslavement, colonization and genocide (and maybe actually because of it), Latinos are not immune to that ugly disease, and the Spanish language does contain specific racial slurs for those of us ignorant enough to want to use them.

But the word negro is not one of them. Sure, some idiot might say, "Esa negra. . ." in a tone of voice that is offensive and worthy of rebuke, but that can be said of any race in any language. The overwhelming majority of the time, when Latinos uses the Spanish word for black, it means one of two things. We may be referring literally to something that is black in color.

Or in the words of poet Pedro Pietri, here to be called black is to be called love.

The Obvious Truth about Snitchin'

Once again, the mainstream media got it twisted.

Today, an article appeared on Yahoo! News (supplied by Reuters) entitled Hip-hop's Code of Silence Hurts Police Work. The title says it all and irked me to no end. I didn't have to read it to know that (1) it was about the underworld code against "snitching" and (2) it would attribute this code to hip hop.

This code is not new. In fact, it is so old, it predates hip hop. Do we really believe that before the 1970s, gangstas and wannabes ratted each other out to the police until rap music came along and proposed this code of omerta? Are we supposed to buy into the implication that only those engaged in illegal activity who are of a certain hue or geography maintain this code while their counterparts of other races or locations snitch to their hearts' content?

Get real. Once again, hip hop subculture is being equated with thug life as if they are one and the same. And for what really? If you snitch, someone's going to die. If you don't snitch, someone else is still going to die. So to snitch or not to snitch is a ridiculous question. What we need to discuss is how we got into this dangerous corner and what does it take to get us out of it? All I know is that hip hop did not put us there so don't expect it to get us out. But hip hop can make a contribution and we can start by challenging the media's penchant for using hip hop and thug life synonymously regardless of which forum the byline appears.

I'll give the journalist who wrote this particular article credit for soliciting an opinion from Chuck D who proved that not everyone in the hip hop community, industry, or generation ascribes to this code of self-destruction. But Chuck's voice was alone amidst a litany of "evidence" that "the rise of hip-hop culture has heightened the phenomenon by transforming street thugs into role models." Meanwhile, glorifying criminals has always been and continues to be as American as football, apple pie and low voter turnout.

When is someone going to ask that with mainstream radio stations, film studios, publishing companies, news outlets, and cable networks playing major roles in relentlessly promoting only a certain kind of hip hop, who truly benefits from it?

Here's a hint. Since people of color do not own or control these entities, it ain't us. And debating the phenomenon of snitchin' isn't going to change that.

On "The Boondocks" Controversy

I've been working so hard on Burn, that I missed the premiere of The Boondocks last night. I wish I hadn't so I could have a better handle on today's controversy. Apparently, activist Najee Ali is organizing protests against the show because of its use of the n-word.

I lurked on the message board of the Electronic Urban Report on this controversy. Some folks who ordinarily are not offended by the use of the word stated that they felt that the show's creator Aaron McGruder actually overused it. Others questioned why Mr. Ali does not focus on more significant issues. Reading the ranges of opinion -- especially as a writer who occassionally used the word in my novels - I felt compelled to take a break from Burn and weigh in on it.

First, I am a huge fan of the comic strip The Boondocks as well as that of its creator Aaron McGruder. Whether he considers himself this or not, in my eyes, A-Mac is a socially conscious artist, and to me, he's indeed a hip hop activist. In the wake of the 9/11 tragedy, often Aaron's comic strip was the only thing in the morning paper that raised the hard questions. While FOX and CNN backpedaled from the things on most of our minds, A-Mac used his comic to put the critical issues front and center. Frequently, he was censored for it, but he never retreated. I have read and heard Aaron speak on issues, and this is an informed brother who is not afraid to speak truth to power and cares about his people.

Yet still I find his defense of the use of the n-word problematic. Well, maybe not the defense itself as much as his adamancy. As a writer who aims to create realistic characters with dialogue that rings true, I completely empathize with A-Mac when he says, "I just think that at a certain point, we all have to realize that sometimes we use bad language. And the ‘N word’ is used so commonly, by not only myself, but by a lot of people I know, that it feels fake to write around it and to avoid using it.” This is precisely why I have used it in my novels.

But what I would say to Aaron in a sisterly fashion is this: not all people use the word and not all people who do use the word do so profusely. Yes, I have taken the subway and heard some young folks -- not all African American -- who can't utter a sentence without dropping the n-bomb. And truth be told, it irks the hell out of me. I'm an Afro-Latina, and it makes me cringe when I hear Latino kids using it. Although I'm a grown woman, sometimes I download radio edits of certain rap songs because I just not trying to hear that shit let alone have it resounding in my head long after I shut off my MP3 player.

However, there are many folks who don't use the word at all, and some who do keep it to a minimum. Although some of the characters in my novels say the n-word, I personally do not. Not that I'm perfect. In the occassional moment of passion, it flies out of my mouth. When that happens I never feel good let alone justified about it. And unlike a few other four-letter words I'm reluctant to forgo because they have their uses, I've never regretted NOT using the n-word because no other word would do the trick.

You'll notice in my novels that very few characters use the word. The ones that do -- with the exception of someone like Xavier "X" Bennett in Picture Me Rollin' -- do so sparingly. It's not the every third word past their lips. You may not have noticed the characters who "fit the profile" but never say it all like Esperanza's friend Tenille. But you should take note of the characters who actually protest the use of the word or make a conscientious effort to not use it anymore. So, no, I don't always write around the word either. But I sure as hell don't need to use excessivley to feel that I'm keepin' it real even if a few real people do use it excessively.

So I agree with Aaron only to a certain extent. Yes, it is false to write around the word as if no one says it because plenty --make that too many -- people do. But it's also false to front like every person says it. If you gotta represent the people who for whatever reasons use the n-word with aplomb because that's real, well, represent those who don't because that's real, too.

As for whether Najee Ali would do better to focus his organizing efforts on other issues, well, that's a tough one for me, too. As an activist who feels that my peoples have become complacent at the worst time, I'm heartened to see people organize and protest about anything meaningful. And don't sleep; language is meaningful. The persistance of the n-word IS an issue. You can believe it' s a major one, or you can believe it's a small one. But you can never dismiss it as NOT one.

By the same token, we're at war. Not only are our loved ones dying across the globe for a questionable cause, we are dying within our own borders because of structural neglect fueled by immoral indifference. My 24-year old nephew is a Marine on his second tour in Iraq. In my personal agenda for frying fish, protesting the n-word ranks at throwing a guppy in the microwave. And yet I can envision a time in the near future when -- keepin' it real be damned -- I ban the word from my art.

I think Sam Anderson said it best. Among many other things, Brother Sam sits on the board of the Brecht Forum with me and is actively involved in the NYC chapter of the Black Radical Congress. He inspired the words Isoke says when she reprimands Esperanza for using the n-word at the beginnning of Picture Me Rollin'. In 2001, Brother Sam sent me an email when I asked for feedback about a piece I wrote when Jennifer Lopez was attacked for using the word in her song I'm Real (I'm shaking my head at the irony.) In that email, he wrote me the words Ioske paraphrases in that prison library scene: "Nigger, Nigga, Nigrah,...Negro are words that carry power baggage. They're laden with white supremacist dehumanizing history."

Sam then revealed that he believed that Black youth use the n-word as a term of endearment because veteran activists like himself failed to pass on the complexities of white supremacy and its language of control. How often do you hear an elder take responsiblity for the next generation's behavior? Because I am so so used to hearing our elders criticizes us for not doing exactly what they did in the 60s and 70s, to read that touched, humble and inspired me.

Then Brother Sam wrote me this: "I think the best solution around the "Nigger" word (and its variations) is to let it go. Let youngfolk continue to use it and get all mixed up in it. Our task, at this stage, is to build a movement so fierce and irresistible that it positively influences the language of the next generation."

This is something that Sam does every day. I make a sincere effort to do this, too. And despite their contrasting views on the n-word, I genuinely believe that each Aaron McGruder and Najee Ali is attempting to do this in his own way.

Despite how you may feel about the continued use of the n-word, how are you contributing to a movement so fierce and irresistable that it positively influences the language of the next generation?