by S.L. Jordan

I have a confession to make.

I am horrible with picking names for my characters, well let me not say horrible. I lack the imagination I want when it comes to deciding on my characters name. It has become such a daunting task, that the majority of my short stories, or work in progress pieces are written in such a way that the protagonist name is never really spoken.

My problem stems from quite a few issues. The first being, I am an 80’s baby/90’s kid. What does that mean? Well, it means the names that commonly pop in my head are from that era, and not just THAT era but distinctly urban.

Think: Deshawn, Andre, LaTasha, Tiffani, Ebony [with a y never an i].

or middle of America sounding names: Brandon, Charles, Thomas, Stephanie, Tiffany.

Compared to the names that have single-handedly entered common vernacular and are only know by the one name.

Think: Cher, Leon, Beyonce, Literary Versions: Katniss, Bella, Hermoine

See how I lack the imagination right?

Let’s not even get started on IF the chosen name has a twin in REAL life. Trying to NOT pick names of people you actually know, IS A STRUGGLE and don’t let anyone tell you differently.

And if I am being completely honest and transparent, I get caught up thinking if the name, “sounds black enough” or if it will register with my readers of color – as they are my main audience. Listen, I know the mere thought is ridiculous, but I’m being honest and transparent here. It’s one of my hang ups with picking names.

Starting at the later end of 2018, I started keeping track of ANY word that tickled my ear – even if that meant it was the Italian word for bed [it’s letto if you were wondering].

I hit the mother load last week. While dog sitting for my brother, I was searching for something to feed my procedural crime drama fix and ran across “Hitherland” on Netflix. Its a UK show set in Aberystwyth, Ceredigion, Wales. To be honest, I could have SWORN it was set in Australia with the wide open spaces. It was beautiful, but I digress.

THE NAMES????? Oh boy. As a native American, wrapping my tongue and ear around the Welsh names was an interesting writers activity.

Esyltt – F Arwyn – M Mared – F Ifan – M Manon – F Dyfan – M Eluned – F Elwyn – M Kasia – F Dafydd – M Bronka – F Iori – M Sian – F Dyvfed – M Rhian – F Geraint – M Elin – F Iwan – M Branwen – F Bedwyr – M Delyth – F Eurof – M Ffion – F Gethin – M

All that to say, be on the look out for a Black protagonist with a Welsh name coming to a short story near you.

To end, here’s a dope quote I stole from the internet:

The name of a thing does not matter as much as the quality of the thing.

By: Tony W.

The prevailing thought is that the book is better than the movie (there are t’shirts), however, there are times when the movie is just as good as the book. I know for some, that sounds like blasphemy, but the truth is, sometimes the screenwriter interprets the novel or short story in such a way as to surpass the original. This is at times accomplished by editing out the clutter and pinpointing what’s at the heart of the novel and others by simply serving as a true visual interpretation. On rare occasions the movie will surpass the authors intent and be better than the source material. I did say rare occasions. Let me say that I may not always agree with all the changes or interpretations, especially when it comes to erasing or combining characters of color and women, but still enjoy the movie. Before I forget – for some of these movies what makes them successful are the performances; Pam Grier and Robert Forester in Jackie Brown, Stockard Channing and Ashley Judd in Where the Heart Is and Julianne Moore in The Hours to name a few.

Below is a list of my favorite adaptions:

Stardust

The Haunting – (1963) Julie Harris

To Kill a Mockingbird

Coraline

The Princes Bride

Fried Green Tomatoes

The Color Purple

East of Eden

The Jane Austin Book Club

The Hours

Jackie Brown

Cloud Atlas

Devil in a Blue Dress

The Joy Luck Club

Practical Magic

The Secret Life of Bees

Emma Thompson’s – Sense and Sensibility

David Lynch’s  – Dune (the Directors Cut at 4 and 6hrs)

Blade Runner

Malcolm X

Where the Heart Is      

The Last of the Mohicans

Pride and Prejudice – 1940 – Greer Garson and Lawrence Olivier

A Monster Calls

Persuasion

The Count of Monte Cristo

The Shawshank Redemption

The Girl with All the Gifts

Books to T.V.:

The Women of Brewster Place

Their Eye’s Were Watching God

The Wedding

Pride and Prejudice – A&E version 1994 w/ Colin Firth

East of Eden (1981)

Jane Eyre – 2006 version w/ Ruth Wilson and Toby Stephens

Perhaps in another post I’ll divulge what I love about these adaptions.

by K. Osorio-Teamer

Telenovelas are a staple in Latinx homes. I watched dramatic car accidents, wild revenge plots, and secret siblings falling in love from a (far too) young age. My mom didn’t cover my eyes during the sex scenes and I appreciated that. It was usually just a lot of kissing and fade outs as the passionate couple eased onto the bed, but it was still scandalous. What I didn’t notice at the time was the lack of racial diversity. But then again, I didn’t know Latinx wasn’t a race either. I lived in a bubble for most of my childhood where I thought all Latinxs looked like me, a mestiza. Mestizo was one of the many terms coined in the colonial era by the Spanish to classify those who had mixed blood. Mestizos were those who had European and Indigeous blood, while mulattos were mixed with African blood. I was a teenager when I had the realization that there are black, white, indigineous, and mixed Latinxs. 

Primer Impacto, a daily news show with the wildest stories and horoscopes by our lord and fabulous savior Walter Mercado, was the other staple in my home. It was usually hosted by two beautiful but inarguably white or mestizo anchors. Finally in 2007, in walked Ilia Calderon and fucking blew my mind. It was the first time I remember seeing a black Latinx on tv speaking Spanish and it changed my definition of what Latinx was. 

Shows in English focused on Latinx characters were rare in the 90s and early 00s (shout out to Taina!), but now they’re everywhere. Shows like Ugly Betty and Jane the Virgin were some of the first to crossover from Spanish language novela to U.S. network dramas. They followed the 70 year tradition in Latinx soap operas of keeping white and mestizo Latinxs in the forefront of the story. The list of shows goes on: Telenovela; Queen of the South; One Day at a Time; The Beauty and the Baker; Vida; East Los High; Devious Maids; Los Espookys. I’m not saying these shows aren’t great or that they should be boycotted. I love a number of them and find joy in seeing these stories come to life, but we need more shows focused on black and indigienous Latinxs. Thank God for On My Block, Orange is the New Black, Pose, and Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. If not for them, we’d hardly see any Afro-Latinxs on screen. 

It’s an eye opening time for those in this country that lived with privilege or blissful and willful ignorance. People are late to the party, but are welcome to claim they were wrong and take action to help drive change. For Latinx folks, this action has to start at home. Racism is widespread and hardly called out in Latin American countries. My parents never said anything disparaging about black people, but as a teenager, I had my first glimpse into the ingrained anti-blackness held within my dark skinned father. 

One day as we drove back into our neighborhood, my Papi gestured towards a black kid walking alongside us. 

“I wonder if he likes his skin,” he mused out loud.  

“What do you mean?”

“He’s so dark,” Papi explained. 

As most teenagers do, I felt like I knew everything, so I answered quickly. “I bet he loves it!”  

“But I’m not as dark as him and I hate my skin. How can he love his?” 

I don’t remember what I said. I don’t remember getting home. I just remember the heartbreak of seeing my father’s pain for the first time. Seeing the anti-blackness that burrowed deep into his soul and settled there, making him hate the melanated skin God gave him. I never met my paternal grandmother, but Papi always told me she had darker skin than him and that my curls came from her. Now that he’s gone, I wonder if he was grateful I resembled my mestiza mother and not his. I wonder if he ever loved his skin as much I did.

Papi didn’t learn that anti-blackness here. He brought it with him from Nicaragua. It’s our duty to challenge it in our families. We have to stop it when we hear it in la sala or at la carne asada. We have to call out our friends and family for upholding white supremacy because it’s life and death. These centuries-long prejudiced views and the silence of “woke” Latinxs keeps the cycle going. 

Our representation in U.S. media is a double edged sword. For one I’m happy to see more stories focused on our culture, but it’s incredibly frustrating to see the colorism that lives in all Latin American countries continue here in the U.S. Representation matters, but not at the cost of erasing black and indigienous lives. The problem doesn’t have a quick fix, but broadening the face of Latinx identity on U.S. shows will open more eyes and start conversations on history and colorism that need to be had in Latinx American communities.