Black history has had an essential influence on Latin American culture.
I’m homesick often; I live five hours away from home and away from the community I know, the community I grew up with and that helped build me. When I feel homesick, or when I feel alone, I usually play some of my mom’s favorite music to feel better. The music I grew up listening to was a lot of old Spanish Rock, Spanish pop, reggaeton, and salsa. When I’m really homesick I listen to Celia Cruz’s “La Vida Es Un Carnaval,” which is a really beautiful, upbeat, and joyful song that talks about how one must not let one’s self be convinced that life is difficult because it’s even more beautiful. It was a song by the queen of salsa herself, Celia, which was enough to get me through those sad days. Celia, along with my family, has taught me to dance and sing instead of being sad and down.
Whenever I get ready to go to work I know reggaeton will wake me up. Latin music, naturally, has a special hold on my soul. The rhythm and the beats make it impossible for me not to be happy.
This month, I began reflecting on the fact that reggaeton and salsa probably wouldn’t be the staple in Latin culture it is today if it weren’t for black history. If there’s one thing I know about being from Latin America, is that we come in all different shapes and size. Due to historical reasons, there are a lot of different-looking individuals that come from so many different parts of the world in Latin America. Many of these stories are more than unfortunate, yet there was a beauty that came out of that struggle. One of those beautiful manifestations happens to be the music I listen to today. A quick Google search on the origins of reggaeton will reveal that this genre of music came about when Jamaican workers traveled to help build the Panama Canal in Central America (hence the suffix “reggae” in reggaeton). I am a victim of thinking that reggaeton originated somewhere in the Spanish-speaking Caribbean with popular pioneering reggaeton artists like Ivy Queen and Daddy Yankee. If it weren’t for the Afro-beats who influenced and inspired Spanish music, we wouldn’t have modern reggaeton artists like Bad Bunny and Karol G.
Celia Cruz is a staple in any Latin household; la reina de salsa was a Black Cuban woman who left a legacy and lasting impact in Latin music. To say that Celia Cruz was only a singer would be a great understatement, as her voice, her fashion, and her iconic phrase “Azucar!” brought attention to Black Caribbean expression, highlighted Cuban coffee culture, and brought attention to the history of sugar plantations in Cuba. As a woman dominating a male industry, she was a force to be reckoned with.
I still hold memories of my abuelita teaching me to salsa to Celia Cruz’s music, which was some of my earliest exposure to music. The music was always alive and joyous; you can’t help but dance, and that’s exactly what Celia represented, aliveness. One of Cruz’s most famous songs “La Vida Es Un Carnaval” is one of my favorite songs in the world. It’s the traditional upbeat and uplifting salsa we know and love, but the lyrics talk about how, although life is hectic, unpredictable, and can inevitably make us sad, we must choose not to cry but instead to live singing and dancing. I only danced without listening when I was a kid, but now I listen to Celia on my walks home from class, far away from home and from my abuelita. Although Celia and her have never met, I know they would advise me the same.
Navigating through a topic like Black History, I feel that as a Mexican-American I have no place to speak on such a topic. But I know that it would be a mistake for me to deny the fact that we, as Latinos, would have nothing comparable to the inspiring and beautiful music I hold so dear to my heart if it weren’t for Black History.