By Andrea Morales
The indoctrinated belief that we are a mix of TaĂno, African and Spanish ancestry has been prevalent throughout our whole lives as Puerto Ricans, but this is not without its irregularities: the TaĂno and the Spanish lineages are too often overvalued above our African lineage. This is often due to the overwhelming allure of Eurocentrism and romanticization of indigenous cultures, while African history is unfairly interpreted as a hardship that had to be overcome. The cultural impact of our African heritage is often dismissed or simply not recognized, which indicates the ugly underlying racism in Puerto Rican culture. Simply put, we do not give enough attention to our African history and heritage in our schools and other academic and learning spaces.
However, we tend to pay a significant amount of attention to studying the conquest of Puerto Rico by the Spanish and perhaps delve into some of the rituals TaĂnos performed and the society in which they lived in. Unfortunately, we tend to ignore the plight Africans faced as they were brutally ripped from their homelands and forced to toil grueling days under the scorching Caribbean sun at the hand of barbaric masters. While we do know of the barbarity the TaĂnos faced throughout an abominable system of forced labor and genocide, which ultimately led to their extinction, little is said about the brutalities many slaves faced in the sprawling plantations across the island. Instead, we see an erroneous picture of Spaniards painted as chivalrous, charitable and even benevolent people who looked after the well being of slaves and Native Americans that were in their care. Meanwhile, we are taught to look at the African response to that oppression with pity rather than admiration for their resilience and strength in the face of adversity. Why are the Spanish portrayed as the ones who “gave” us our culture via invasion, while TaĂnos and Africans are shown as “la sobra,” or what was left? This creates an even bigger problem: it grants Spaniards supremacy over our African heritage. Needless to say, this balanced perspective is inherently racist.
However, this could not be farther from the truth. It is the image that has been ingrained in many of the factually flawed history books distributed amongst the education system in Puerto Rico, and bleeds into daily interactions among Puerto Ricans. People are also quick to point out “we can’t be racist, we are all a mix!,” yet many of us immediately jump up and clarify someone who calls us Puerto Rican by telling them that our forefathers hail from other lands across the Atlantic, most likely Europe, since it’s the focus of immense commendation by many. While racism here is often not as blatantly obvious, or violent, as it is in the United States, we still do implement micro-aggressive comments and prejudices that perpetuate the subordination of African heritage. We live in a constant state of denial. Most of the time, if you say someone is black, you will quickly be retorted with “I’m not Black, I’m caramel,” or “I’m tan,” or whichever of the euphemisms they desire. The problem with this is that we are not addressing the fact that our heritage is something to be proud of, not reduced to condescending euphemisms. It seems as if it really is an immense problem for many to accept that they really are black. Who can blame them after we characterize African hair as “bad” and immediately start looking for ways to make it look “acceptable” so it can fit our Euro-centric expectations of beauty? What’s more, when local television “comedy” shows often portray blackface and people often joke “lightheartedly” about race? Far too often, in Puerto Rico, blackness is often seen as a fault or a punchline, instead of an identity in and of itself and an intrinsic part of our culture.
                                                        Art by Chris Soto
Fortunately, there are always activists, artists, scholars, and authors who make an extraordinary effort to ensure blackness isn’t dismissed in our culture. There have even been guides for teachers created with the intent of empowering students and educating them through Afro-Caribbean consciousness. At the UPRM, there are also constant artistic displays of African culture. During the Arte in la PolĂtica event, held  by Colegio’s AsociaciĂłn de Estudiantes de Ciencias PolĂticas (AECIPO) in early October, I had the pleasure of being able to witness a traditional rendition of a bomba. I was awestruck at the sad notes resonating through the square, seeing as they were written to immortalize the laments our enslaved ancestors endured, many of which reflect their suffering, as well as their resistance and hope for a better future. Spaces like Arte en la PolĂtica and its original, Arte en la Placita, strive to create visibility of our heritage and provide spaces for discussion, reflection, and exposure of our Afro-Caribbean culture and history. As university students, it’s important that we seize the opportunity to use spaces like Arte en la Placita or Arte en la PolĂtica for learning and reflecting, and to listen to people (be it scholars, activists, artists, or your friends) advocating for the preservation of black culture. And, on the academic level, it’s important to take courses that reflect a holistic approach to our history, our African heritage, and the social sciences. As Fernando Correa, a local poet, aptly remarked during the event, “we should all come together, and save our Isla del encanto together, if we truly wish for it to last forever.” The same applies to our heritage, especially our beautiful and rich African heritage.Â
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