May is Mixed Experience History Month!

Hello Meltingpot Readers,

My goodness, May is more than half over and I have yet to direct your attention over to Heidi Durrow's Light Skinned-ed Girl blog, where as always, she is celebrating Mixed Experience History Month by profiling a famous Mixed-Race person every single day during the month of May. It's a pretty ambitious project and yet Durrow always manages to find new and interesting Mixies of note to highlight. I always learn something new from her research, like for example, the great Black female aviator, Bessie Coleman's father was mixed, African-American and Cherokee.

I am really impressed and happy that Durrow founded Mixed Experience History Month, way back in 2007. She has opened my eyes to the fact that the Mixed Experience is a unique one and an important one to recognize and celebrate the world over.

Just for fun and to read more about Durrow and her own Mixed experience as an Afro-Viking, check out this Q&A with Durrow that ran in The New Yorker. And if you feel like sharing, who's your favorite Mixie historical figure? Mine? That's easy. Right now, I'm all about, Juan de Pareja, the biracial slave of the Spanish painter, Velazquez. According to legend, Pareja secretly taught himself to paint and his work now hangs in the Prado museum in Madrid. There are many myths about Juan de Pareja, including a YA novel based on his life story. What seems clear is that his mother was Black (African) and his father was Spanish. To read more about him, check out this link.

Okay, your turn.

I'm listening.

Peace!

A Meltingpot Book Review & A Giveaway Too: "A Wedding in Haiti"

Hello Meltingpot Readers,

I have a confession to make. When I received my advanced reader's copy of Julia Alvarez's slim new memoir, A Wedding in Haiti, I was not impressed. In fact, I was a little put off by the concept. Alvarez, a prolific and award-winning Dominican poet and novelist, had written a book about her friendship with her Haitian farm worker. The broad brush strokes of the story are that Alvarez befriends young Piti when he comes to work on her organic coffee farm in the Dominican Republic. When Piti comes of age and decides to marry, he invites Alvarez to the wedding which takes place in rural Haiti. Alvarez has to leave the comfort of her home in Vermont to go to the wedding and of course her life is altered by what she experiences in a place that's almost always referred to as the poorest country in the western hemisphere. Cue the violins and call the cliché hotline.

So, I didn't read it. I didn't think I'd have to read it to know how the story begins and ends. What's more, considering Alvarez is Domincan, I guess I expected her to know more about Haiti than her story suggests. And if she really never had visited the country that is attached to her birthplace, I guess I didn't want her to admit that either. At least not out loud. I am a big fan of Alvarez and didn't want to lose respect for her work. So, like I said, I didn't read it.

But dear readers, the book just sat there, mocking me with its pretty cover and the temptation of a good Alvarez read. Finally, one morning, I just picked it up and started reading, figuring I'd put it down if even the slightest hint of "The White Man Learns the Meaning of Life from the Poor Black Man Who Has Nothing Yet Can Still Smile Every Morning," came through the text. But it didn't.

Alvarez is pretty honest about her lack of knowledge about Haiti, as well as her inherent privilege and relative wealth. And it is that honesty that comes through the book as she narrates her journey to the wedding and then a subsequent trip to Haiti post earthquake. As I said, the book is slim, the story covers less than two years, and there is no great aha! moment. Instead, we get a travelogue of a journey most of us will never make because we don't have the resources and because we don't have to. We can send money, rail at the injustice and even pretend things are actually better than they really are in Haiti.

Alvarez doesn't use the book to preach a sermon or shame us readers into flying straight away into Port-au-Prince. She does one better. She allows herself, a middle-aged American college professor with good intentions, to be our eyes and ears in Haiti. She recoils at sights and smells but puts on a brave face because she knows it is the right thing to do. She smiles and uses charades to communicate because she doesn't speak French of Kreyol. She offers what comfort she can, be it a box of spaghetti or a hug to a grieving mother. In a nutshell, Alvarez bears witness to Haiti's despair, but also and just as importantly, to Haiti's dignity.

"We ride into the downtown area, full of ambivalence. To watch or not to watch. What is the respectful way to move through these scenes of devastation? We came to see, and according to Junior, Haiti needs to be seen....You tell yourself you are here in solidarity. But at the end of the day, you add it up and you still feel ashamed...You haven't improved a damn thing. Natural disaster tourism -- that's what it feels like."

Despite its premise and the author's lament, A Wedding in Haiti doesn't feel like natural disaster tourism. On the contrary, this book reads like an honest account of one woman's experience in Haiti. Yes, there is unspeakable poverty and heartache, but there is also humor, love and random acts of kindness that reinvigorate your belief in hope.

This book probably won't change your life. But it might change your opinion about Haiti and the people who live there.

If you'd like to win a free hardcover copy of A Wedding in Haiti, tell me what you think about when you think of Haiti in the comments section. I'll randomly select a winner from the comments on Thursday, April 26 at midnight.

Peace!

Sympathizing with the Slave Owner? -- "Conquistadora" Made Me Do It

Hi Meltingpot Readers,

I think it is safe to say that if a novel can make a Black woman sympathetic to an unrepentant slave owner in 1845, then that's some good writing. Suffice it to say, Esmerelda Santiago's epic new novel, Conquistadora does just that.

According to all of the publicity material, Conquistadora is about a young Spanish woman, Ana, who feels stifled by her upper-class upbringing in colonial Spain and longs to live a life of adventure like her conquistador ancestors. So she marries and convinces her husband and his twin brother to move to Puerto Rico and stake their claim in the "new world." This is in 1845 and Puerto Rico is a growing but still untamed island colony belonging to Spain. It was where many Spaniards -- actually any White man from Europe -- from questionable backgrounds could reinvent themselves. It was part of the Spanish Wild West and Ana wanted in, no matter what the cost. Soon enough, Ana and her husband are running a sugar plantation in an isolated part of the island with the African slaves on the plantation the closest thing they have to neighbors.

Conquistadora follows Ana's travails from her marriage and arrival in Puerto Rico, through twenty years of drama. Births, deaths, slave revolts, cholera epidemics. You name it, it happened. But through it all she remains stoic in her determination to make a name for herself in this island nation. To create something from her own two hands instead of relying on her class and parents' wealth. Ana is a survivor and the reader wants her to achieve her goals. Or at least I did. But the problem is, Ana's dreams of making her sugar plantation a success requires the use and abuse of slave labor. There's no other way. Or at least there's no other way Ana and her sexy overseer, Severo Fuentes can think of to bring in the sugar cane and turn a profit. (By the way, Severo is one of those Spaniards from a "questionable background" who is in Puerto Rico seeking fame and fortune.) So, yes, I found myself sympathizing with the slave owner. I wanted Ana to be victorious. I cheered for her success.

So, we come back to Santiago's brilliant storytelling. In my mind, the main character of this tale isn't Ana, but rather, Puerto Rico itself. The island is a living breathing entity that enchants and mystifies. It causes men and women to renounce what they've known before and try to tame her. There are many characters in the book, Spaniards, Africans -- slaves and free --rich and poor, first generation native-born islanders, but it is the island that sits at center stage in this epic tale. After reading this book, one understands not just how Puerto Rico came to be, but why and at what cost. With lush descriptions and an eye for historical detail, Santiago has written a thrilling ode to her birthplace.

For anyone interested in historical fiction, you'll love this book. If you're like me and are fascinated by the intersection of African and Spanish lives and culture, you'll love this book. If you're eager to understand the truly diverse culture of Puerto Rico, you'll love this book. If you'd like an insight into slavery under a different colonial empire than the British (and then American), then you'll love this book. If you're interested in truly understanding the mindset of those who sought to tame new worlds, you'll love this book. As soon as I finished reading it, el esposo grabbed it and read it too. He loved it as much as I did. So, there you have it. Two Kinky Gazpacho thumbs up for Conquistadora.

Peace!

Even Latina Authors Get the Blues

I spend a lot of time thinking about books. I think about writing books, reading books and promoting books. I like talking to other authors about their writing process and I think about how I can get both of my books, Hair Story:Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America and Kinky Gazpacho into the hands of Oprah Winfrey and the Obama family. What I don't spend a whole lot of time thinking about is the plight of Latina authors and the books they write.

What, with Junot Diaz running around winning every award known to man, I kind of figured Latino/a authors were hot right now. But then I read this heart wrenching blog post by Latina author, Alisa Valdes-Rodriguez. (If the link doesn't take you directly to the post, go to her diary and read the post from Tuesday, April 6). In it, Rodriguez rips the curtain off the presumed success of Latina authors, herself included, and rages against a racist culture that doesn't know what to do with Latino/a authors who don't want to write stereotypes of the Latin lifestyle. She rants:

"Then there is the issue of non-Latinos and my work. Because I do not write of Latinos as pitiable in any way, or from the dominant perspective of us (as do Junot Diaz, Sandra Cisneros, etc.) I am spurned in literary circles. If I wrote of Latinos as struggling, poor, miserable (like this post, for instance) I would have had a much easier time being noticed by, say, The New York Times, where the only valid story of Latinos must be one of tragedy and sorrow, barrios and gangbangers."

Ouch! This sounds so familiar. If you can, read the rest of the post and see if you learn something. I did. Now I know that it's not just Black authors struggling, even Latina authors get the blues. Perhaps Valdes-Rodriguez should start a website like my friend Carleen Brice who created the website White Readers Meet Black Authors when her frustration at Seg-Book-Gation became too great.

My goodness, I'll be so happy when all books will not only be created equally, but read equally.

Peace.
***********************************************
And Speaking of Books. THE WINNER OF KATHLEEN GRISSOM'S, THE KITCHEN HOUSE IS ... Pernicious Panda!!!!
Pernicious, send us an email at myamericanmeltingpot@gmail.com with your name and address and we'll send you your book right away. Congrats and thanks to everyone who entered.

Growing Up Global: Homa Sabet Tavangar Will Now Take Your Questions (And a Giveaway Too)

When I first met Homa Sabet Tavangar, I had just moved to Philadelphia. Homa was about to leave the city. Temporarily. She said she was about to take her three young daughters and move to Africa, to The Gambia specifically. Why? Because she wanted them to experience the "oneness of humanity."

Soon after, Homa left the United States with her girls in tow, to live out her principles. Her oldest daughter should have been in her last year of middle school, her youngest was only three-and-a-half. Once there, Homa did not search out an expat community or try to find an exclusive private international school for her girls. She enrolled them all in private local schools with some of the same families they were living amongst as well as some other international kids. She chronicled her journey in a fantastic blog for the Philadelphia Inquirer.

Personally, I loved reading about her adventures on the blog, but Homa's gone one better. She's written a fascinating and useful book called, Growing Up Global: Raising Children to be at Home in the World. In the book she talks about her motivations to take the trip to Africa but the majority of the tome is a parenting primer, offering wonderful tips and activities to raise real global citizens. With chapter titles like "Be A Friend," "Go to School" and "Celebrate with the World," the book is chock full of ways (from learning a new language to attending an international children's film festival) to make our children (and ourselves too!) understand their place in this big wide world. I love it! And one of you will too.

Homa has given me a copy of Growing Up Global to give to one of my Meltingpot Readers. AND she's offered to answer any of your questions about raising a global citizen. So post a question here for Homa in the comments section and you'll be entered to win the book. We'll post the winner and answers from Homa next Friday so get your questions in by Monday at midnight.


For more information about Homa and her own fascinating background, check out her beautiful Growing Up Global website.

Peace!

Books to Give, Books to Get.

Hi Meltingpot readers,

I'm going to ask for a couple of favors today. All for a worthy cause of course.

First, I want you all to go visit, Color Online today and see what great work they're doing supporting multicultural authors and young girls at risk in their Detroit community. And then when you're feeling like, "Wow, what can I do to support such an amazing organization?" You can send a book to their Summer Book Drive. You can buy one from their Wish List at Powell's online book store, or send a gently used book directly to their library. All the details are on the site. Try adding them to your list of links.

I know I'm going to send ColorOnline a few books that I have that folks who have won here at the Meltingpot never claimed. If that's you, you only have a few days to send me your address at myamericanmeltingpot@gmail.com. Check back to see if you were one of the lucky winners recently.

And speaking of winners. I need some help, so I can be a literary winner. Meaning, I have to get the word out about Kinky Gazpacho being available in paperback or I will never sell another book. It's all about numbers people. And since my publisher has set aside zero dollars for the publicity of the paperback, it all falls on me. This is typical for authors who are not superstars, like Stephanie Meyer or Stephen King. So, I am not surprised, but it still is daunting.

So, faithful readers, I'm trying to go about this Obama style. I'm going to the people and asking for help. Not money, just help. If you have a blog, Facebook or Twitter account, would you please post about Kinky Gazpacho? It doesn't have to be a review. In fact, I don't even care if you've read it. You can just mention that it exists.

For example, you could write: "Hey, there's this new book out in paperback called Kinky Gazpacho. I wonder if it's about hairy soup?"

Or "Anybody hear about this new book out in paperback called Kinky Gazpacho? I wonder if it's about weird sex acts in Spain?"

Or my all time favorite: "Have your heard about this book Kinky Gazpacho? I heard it's just like Eat, Pray Love, only the woman is Black not blond and she goes to Spain instead of Italy. And she gets married not divorced. But other than that, very similar story."

Honestly I don't care. The rule of thumb is that if people hear a name seven times, then it finally sticks. So I want to see if I can at the very least make a lot of people aware that Kinky Gazpacho exists. That way when they wander into a bookstore or library and see the book, they'll go, "Oh there's the book I keep hearing about. I simply must read it." See how this works. Eventually, if it really goes viral, it might make it all the way to Chicago and into the ears of one Ms. Oprah Winfrey and then, my dear readers, we will know that we made something happen! That we changed the course of history. We gave a relatively unknown author who had a story to share a chance to speak to millions of people. I think we can do this. Yes We Can!

Thank you so much for your help and let's get this Kinky revolution started!

Peace!