I want to reflect on the disenfranchisement that Black communities experience in Latin America and Latinx culture. It’s time to talk about the lateral violence that people of color place on Black folks.

The Latinx identity is complicated. Latinidad represents a cultural or ethnic group and is made of communities from Latin America. In the U.S., the Latinx identifier represents a political and sociocultural demographic. Latina/o, Hispanic, and Latinx/Latine are all names for this group; it’s what you find on a census or a standardized test. But at the end of the day, Latinx is an ethnicity, not a race.

The concepts and constructs of Latinidad have been built on racism. José Vasconcelos, a Mexican philosopher, created an ideology of a “cosmic race” that essentially erased all Black and Indigenous identities inside a monolithic, nationalist identity that blurred lines of color and race. This harmful ideology has been ingrained into Latinx systems, to the point where Black and Indigenous Latinx are erased from the media, positions of power, and any other kind of representation.

Within the Latinx umbrella, our racial, ethnic, physical ability, gender, socioeconomic, immigration status, and sexual identities intersect to create our unique realities. We can’t flatten entire diasporas into singular labels and lived experiences. What happens when we create a large monolithic identity is that those who have the most privilege within it are well represented, and those who are more oppressed are erased. In this case we are talking about white or mixed race Latinx individuals representing the entire Latinx identity and erasing the existence of Black or Indigenous Latinx folks. Although we are all oppressed, we can still oppress others. This type of violence, the one we feel exacted by our own community or family, is called lateral violence.

Erasure of Black and Indigenous people from Latinx communities is genocide. It’s internalized colonialism.

To my Latinx relatives: we’ve got some work to do within our own families and communities. These topics are not commonly spoken about, but understanding how we are situated as oppressors can help us collectively dismantle these unjust systems. If you march for Black lives in the US but don’t believe that Latin American countries “have a race issue” I invite you to look deeper. We were taught not to see these things, so we have to work harder to disrupt them.

If we are able to acknowledge that we are all complicit and we all benefit from the oppression of others, we begin to see that we are not enemies. After all, my liberation is directly tied to yours. Anti-Blackness runs rampant in our communities, and it is our responsibility to use our privilege to disrupt and educate our own people. Here are a few action items you can start with:

Where Does Your Culture Come From?

Colombian culture is a large mix of Afro-Colombian and Indigenous cultures. This includes everything; the food, music, dances and clothing we love so much. However, we very seldom credit or uplift the communities and creatives that our culture comes from.

An example of this is Cumbia, a type of music and dancing that originated in Colombia and is very popular throughout Latin America. Even though I am Colombian and I love Cumbia, I am still capable of culturally appropriating this music. Cumbia was born from the African slave trade in Colombia, with African drum beats heavily influencing the style and Indigenous dancing influencing the movement. Using this music in any way without properly acknowledging its roots is a form of erasure and appropriation.

I encourage you to do a deeper dive on what your culture is and where it comes from, and help bring light to the true creators of the culture you celebrate.

2. Let Kids Play in the Sun

Because of my melanin, I was kept out of the sun as a child. I remember my aunts chastising me for playing outside, “you’re going to get too dark”, they would say as they pulled me indoors. I quickly learned that there was something wrong with my melanated skin, and I began developing a negative relationship with it. Then as a teenager, relatives continued to comment on my skin tone, but this time with a different message. “Look at her caramel skin, it’s so beautiful”. Although these comments seem more positive than the ones from my youth, they still made me feel deeply uncomfortable.

My melanin was never mine, it was always someone else’s to comment on or have on opinion about it. As an adult I can put names to these negative experiences: racism and fetishtisation. I still see my family members exhibit these behaviors, and I see how these small actions are part of a larger, more sinister racism in my home country. The solution starts with simple actions: let your kids play in the sun, don’t comment on people’s skin tones.

3. We All Have Work To Do

None of us are immune to being racist. This is why often times the racism comes from our own communities, or looking even deeper, ourselves. We are racist to ourselves and each other because we are products of a racist system. We have been socialized to uphold white supremacy. We have been socialized to not see any of this, so when we do uphold white supremacy we just see it as upholding what is neutral or normal.

The importance here is that while everyone is capable of being racist, only some of us are subject to experiencing racism. Only some of us are targets. This is something we cannot control due to how we are perceived by the world. We need to focus on this in order to protect one another and be allies in our communities. Remember that this isn’t an attack, it’s an invitation to unlearn and grow.

Anti-Blackness in Latinx Communities

Where Does Your Culture Come From?

2. Let Kids Play in the Sun

3. We All Have Work To Do