On February 26, 2013, the one year anniversary of the shooting of Trayvon Martin in Sanford, FL by George Zimmerman, I stare at the beautiful face of Trayvon Martin on my television screen and online news feed. I study his cinnamon brown skin, big teddy bear brown eyes and long black lashes, trimmed tight curly black hair, well-sculpted nose and full lips. I hear the invisible and terrified cries for help, the shot, and the silence.

I am racially black and I am of Puerto Rican and Dominican ethnic descent. And I see my father, uncles, cousins. I silently remember President Barack Obama’s somber observation more than a year ago: “If I had a son, he’d look like Trayvon.”1

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Problems with the Visual Optics of “Race”
I remember being frustrated by the news narratives that categorize Martin as black and George Zimmerman as white simply because of the color of their skin. After all, if Martin could be the son of our first mixed race president or be my son, his identity should be more complicated than the color of his skin. Martin’s gender, class, and ethnoracial complexities remain irrelevant – he was essentially, biologically, and categorically a black man. As a racial or ethnic identity, blackness remains static despite US Census reports that the black population is more racially and ethnically diverse that ever before with more than 25% of the growth among black Americans driven by immigration.2 Indeed Haitians are among Florida’s largest immigrant population.

Nevertheless, who is defined as black in the United States continues to be defined by the problematic rules of biological hypodescent – the one drop rule that defines anyone with one drop of “black blood” as black. How that “one drop” is often determined is by the visual resonances of blackness; and, Martin “looks” black.

Amidst civil rights protest calling for Martin’s murder to be classified as racial profiling and a hate crime, the story becomes more complicated and more troubling.

According to his father, Zimmerman is white and a minority too and my frustration increases: While images of protests from across the country skitter past on television screens, the elder Zimmerman has tried to do what others have been doing, in various ways, for days: define his son. George is “a Spanish-speaking minority,” the father wrote in a letter delivered to The Orlando Sentinel. “He would be the last to discriminate for any reason whatsoever.” George, the father insisted, was more like the boy he killed than people thought. George was a minority — the other — too.3 In other words, his father suggests that Zimmerman looks white but his mother’s Peruvian heritage means that he too understands racial discrimination and would never discriminate against another racial minority.

Shortly thereafter the news media correct themselves and finally and controversially Zimmerman becomes a “white Hispanic:” “Mr. Zimmerman, 28, a white Hispanic, told the police that he shot Trayvon in self-defense after an altercation. The teenager was walking home from a convenience store, where he bought iced tea and Skittles, when he was shot once in the chest.”4 However, Zimmerman’s newly found Latinidad remains unexplained and apparently journalistically insignificant despite his family’s attempt to inject his “ethnic brownness” into the public conversation as evidence of his racial innocence and the lack of Zimmerman’s racial motivation.

Conservative news commentators, such as this Washington Post columnist, angrily respond to the New York Times decision to qualify Zimmerman as a white Hispanic rather than simply a Latino or Hispanic: I guarantee you that if George Zimmerman did something good — if he finished first in his high school graduating class when he was younger — they wouldn’t refer to him as a white Hispanic, he’d just be a Hispanic. . . . He’s only a ‘white Hispanic’ because they need the word ‘white’ to further the story line, which is, White, probably racist vigilante shoots an unarmed black kid.5 Why aren’t Latina/o activist organizations, such as the National Council of La Raza, not outraged at the racial description of Zimmerman? Why are they not coming to Zimmerman’s defense Rush Limbaugh and others want to know?

Thanks to media narratives about the “browning of America,” Zimmerman it appears is too white or not brown enough to be read as Hispanic. The biologically driven visual optics of race that often write out white Latinas/os such as Cameron Diaz or black Latinas/os such as Rosario Dawson, fail Zimmerman’s attempt to racialize and shield himself from accusations of racism. Zimmerman does not fit the visual archetype of Latinidad.

In response to conservative criticism, the National Council of La Raza and other Latina/o political organizations point out the unspeakable by reminding us that Latinas/os and other minorities can be racists too. And the Congressional Hispanic Caucus joins other civil rights groups in calling for the Department of Justice to pursue Martin’s death as a hate crime.

Moving Beyond Visual/Biological Definitions of Race and Racism
On the anniversary of Martin’s death, I ponder how we might have arrived at this moment – when Latino racism remains un-interrogated, white Latina/o privilege unexamined, and blackness homogenized. How do we continue to live in a world where race is assumed to be visually and biologically definable and ethnicity invisible when it is not easily marked by race?

I am reminded of Silvio Torres-Saillant’s work regarding the ways US Latinas/os are socialized to negotiate racism by moving away from categories of race resulting in a breakdown of coalition building between Latinas/os and other US ethnoracial minority groups.6 I think about the ways in which ethnoracial minorities in the United States are often structurally positioned to compete for scarce resources – housing, food, low paying jobs. I reflect on Lisa Cacho’s notion of “racialized rightlessness” to recover the silent narratives of interracial violence and racism subtly embedded in the media’s coverage of the Martin case, narratives that position ethnoracial minority groups against one another; that implicitly suggest that one group is more deserving of rights than another group; that often ignore the ways all minority groups are denied social, political, and economic equality.7

I acknowledge my sense of loss. I have no answers. I finish this column and kiss my one-year old mixed-race, multi-ethnic son goodnight and whisper in his ear that it will be okay.

Image Credits:
1. Trayvon Martin
2. George Zimmerman
3. Antonio Banderas

Please feel free to comment.

1. http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/03/23/obama-makes-first-comments-on-trayvon-martin-shooting/
2. Benson, Janel. 2006. “Exploring the Racial Identities of Black Immigrants in the United States. Sociological Forum, 22 (2): 219-247.
3. http://seattletimes.com/html/nationworld/2017819414_zimmerman23.html
4. http://www.nytimes.com/2012/03/22/us/police-chief-draws-fire-in-trayvon-martin-shooting.html
5. http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/erik-wemple/post/why-did-new-york-times-call-george-zimmerman-white-hispanic/2012/03/28/gIQAW6fngS_blog.html
6. Torres-Saillant, Silvio. 2005. “Racism in the Americas and the Latino Scholar” in A. Dzidzienyo and S. Oboler (eds) Neither Enemies Nor Friends: Latinos, Blacks, and Afro-Latinos. Palgrave.
7. Cacho, Lisa. 2012. Social Death: Racialized Rightlessness and the Criminalization of the Unprotected. NYU Press.

On September 12, 2012 the New York Times featured a story with the following question: “Should Zoe Saldana Play Nina Simone? Some say no.” At the heart of the report was the growing debate and on-line petitions over whether or not US-born black Latina Saldana should play the iconic African American singer, composer and Civil Rights Activist Nina Simone.1

However, underlying the questions and criticism surrounding the casting of Saldana is a complicated and serious set of issues, among them: The racially biased typecasting practices that limits roles for dark-skinned African Americans and Latinas; and, a troublesome commitment to authenticity in casting that reinforces stereotypical notions of ethnicity and race often grounded in biology and skin color. During a “post-racial” moment where race and ethnicity are no longer supposed to matter, the casting politics surrounding black Latina/o actors produce a triple-burden across gender, ethnic, and racial barriers that is increasingly difficult to navigate.2

“Soy una mujer negra” (I am a black woman)3
In an industry where there are few roles for women, fewer roles for African Americans, and even fewer roles for Latinas/os the options are limited. In 2006 the Screen Actors Guild reported that white actors are cast in more than 73% of roles; casting opportunities for ethnic and racial minorities are rare; and casting directors remain resistant to hiring ethnic and racial minorities for characters designated as white: “’Casting directors take into account race and sex in a way that would be blatantly illegal in any other industry,’ said study author Russell Robinson, UCLA acting professor of law.”4 Seven years later the casting environment remains the same.

Additionally troublesome for black Latina actresses is an industry that favors light-skinned and white Latina actresses, such as Sofia Vergara or Jennifer Lopez, this also means that she is often considered too dark to be Latina: “[I've heard] ‘Oh, you know, you’re just not what we were looking for, your skin is a little darker,’” the New York Daily News quoted her as saying.”5 While the “Latina/o media boom” brought unprecedented visibility to some Latina/o actors, many black Latinas such as Rosario Dawson or Gina Torres were left behind. Speaking in the Mun2 documentary “Black and Latino,” Gina Torres remarked: “ When I became an actress, I quickly realized that the world liked their Latinas to look Italian, not like me and so I wasn’t going up for Latina parts, I was going up for African American parts.”6 For black Latina actresses the roles available to them are often playing black or racially indefinable characters.

Not surprisingly, Saldana has spent a majority of her Hollywood career playing African American characters such as in “Burning Palms” (2010), “Death at a Funeral” (2010) and “Guess Who” (2005). And her big break came in 2009 when Saldana was cast in the role of Neytiri, a fictional ethnic and racial hybrid, in James Cameron’s Avatar and Uhura, a Swahili inspired character in J.J. Abrams Star Trek, originally played in the television series by African American Nichelle Nichols.

As a US-born black Latina of Puerto Rican and Dominican descent, Saldana navigates an identity that is fluid, complicated and not connected to physical appearance: Saldana, like other black Latinos, is often asked to identify herself by a racial or ethnic label, sometimes being asked to choose between Hispanic roots and black heritage.

When asked by journalists whether she’s Dominican or African-American, Saldana gives this reply: “Yo soy una mujer negra (I am a black woman).” Stating simply in perfect Spanish, “I am a black woman,” Saldana questions the assumption that one has to choose either an ethnicity (Dominican) or race (African American). Instead she stakes a claim to US blackhood through her black Latina identity. Having lived most of her life in New York City, Saldana understands what it means to be labeled, categorized, and discriminated against for being perceived as black.

Yet, Saldana’s response to questions about her identity also critiques the erasure of blackness in Latin American ideologies about racial identity: “Saldana, in a May 2006 interview with Latina magazine that featured her on the cover, said she felt slighted by lighter-skinned Dominicans who thought their blue eyes and fair skin were more attractive than many Dominicans’ dark skin and eyes.” Growing up among Dominicans who valorize blue eyes and light-color skin, Saldana recognizes that to perform blackness and Latinidad is a radical identity.

Problems with Authenticity: Why Aren’t Some Latinas Black Enough
It is Saldana’s complex desire, willingness and ability to occupy and claim a Latina ethnic identity and a US black racial identity that is at center of the discomfort surrounding Saldana’s performance of Simone. In the context of underrepresentation for African American and Latina/o communities and scarce quality casting opportunities for African American and Latina actresses, every role, especially those surrounding beloved and globally popular historical figures is highly contested. Nevertheless, calls for accurate ethnic and racial representations often enter the fraught terrain of authenticity where what one communities considers a positive representation others do not.

In the debate over the casting of Saldana as Simone, no one questions Saldana’s ability as a performer. Instead the focus is on the color of Saldana’s skin and the size of her nose: “’My mother was raised at a time when she was told her nose was too wide, her skin was too dark,’ Ms. Kelly (Simone’s daughter) said in an interview. ‘Appearance-wise this is not the best choice,’ she added, referring to Ms. Saldana.”

Other cultural critics read the casting of Saldana as part of the industry’s desire for light-skinned African American actresses, such as Halle Berry and Thandie Newton, who are believed to be more palatable to audiences. With an independent movie production of less than $11 million that is certainly a plausible assumption. Nevertheless, for some audiences and cultural activists, cinematic performance of African American identity are informed by popular expectations of authenticity bound with biological notions of race tied to skin color and other phenotypic markers of blackness.

An unspoken element of this debate are the existing and increasing tensions between African American and Latina/o activists and communities. Once close allies during the 1960s and 1970s nationalist struggles for better housing, education and employment in African American and Latina/o urban communities, the past few decades have moved Latinas/os away from blackness towards brownness and implicit privileging of whiteness. Neither white nor black, Latinas/os have pushed for increased access and opportunities as unique outsiders to US racial categories. Consequently, opposition to casting a Latina, whether black or not, in a coveted acting role for a beloved African American cultural figure is not wholly unexpected.

Ironically, the same notions of racial authenticity that inform calls for the recasting of Nina Simone also constrain casting directors from hiring ethnic and racial minorities to play roles designated for white characters. The privileging of skin color and phenotypic definitions of authenticity by casting directors limits access to Hollywood roles by ethnic and racial minority actors. And the romanticization of African American authenticity as historically uniform and fixed threatens to erase the complex history of the African diaspora inside and outside of the United States. Through her provocative lyrics about what it meant to be a woman and black as well as her life as an American ex-patriot living in France, Nina Simone herself called into the view the cultural politics of the black Atlantic that extend far beyond the borders of the United States. Similarly the casting of Saldana as Simon reminds audiences that the slave trade occurred throughout all of the Americas and that some African Americans have ethnic identities too.

Image Credits:
1. ABC News
2. Latina magazine
3. Saldana in the role of Star Trek’s Uhura
4. E! News
5. Ebony

Please feel free to comment.

1. Vega, Tanzina. 2012. “Stir builds over actress to portray Nina Simone.” The New York Times, 12 Sep. Retrieved from the World Wide Web http: nytimes.com on 31 Dec 2012.
2. Molina-Guzmán, 2010.
3. Renteria, 2007
4. McNary, 2006
5. Hindustan Times. 2010. “Zoe Saldana says skin tone prevented her from landing Hollywood roles.” Renteria, 2010.
6. Ibid

At a moment of deep global economic anxiety, Modern Family recuperates middle-class whiteness through a subtle narrative of resentment (See Image 1). The discourse of white resentment requires that difference (sexual, ethnic, racial or linguistic) be disciplined in such a way as to maintain socioeconomic hierarchies by reinforcing the ideals of US liberalism. Liberalism posits the United States as a “colorblind” society, affording those with the skills and desire the ability to move to the top of the democratic marketplace regardless of their identities. Jennifer Esposito proposes that with regards to US network television programming, the ideology of liberalism is further rearticulated and “recently redefined by the media as ‘postracial’ (meaning that we have moved beyond race and that race no longer structures our thinking or our actions).”1 Modern Family privileges just such a meritocratic ideology through its celebration of whiteness and circulation of racist humor that reinforces the belief that we are now post-race.

On Modern Family, Vergara’s award-winning performance of Latina spitfire Gloria affirms the show’s nostalgic representation of white masculinity, helping to soothe racial anxieties through a familiar figure of domestic Latina femininity. At the same time, Vergara’s complex representation of Latina motherhood also provides a unique moment of visibility, creating a rupture in the show’s narrative of white resentment. Given the hypervisibility of negative news coverage about Latinas/os and the continuing invisibility of Latina/o characters on primetime television, Vergara/Gloria produces a potentially transformative representation of Latinidad at a time of increasing sociopolitical hostility towards Latina/o immigrants and ethnoracial minorities.2

A Contemporary Latina “Spitfire”

The performances of Latina spitfire characters beginning with Lupé Vélez and Dolores Del Rio’s Good Neighbor films in the 1940’s often focused on the comedy of errors created by intercultural miscommunication and the comedic tensions inherent in the romantic relationship between the Latina star and her white US paramour. (Vélez’s portrayals in a series of “Mexican Spitfire” movies generated the popular Latina stereotype).3 Also referred to as the “female clown,” the ideological role of the spitfire archetype was to make foreign Latin America less threatening through humor while celebrating the potential for intercultural exchange and heterosexual romance.4 Vergara’s Gloria performs a familiar ideological role as the spitfire in Modern Family. As a contemporary Latina spitfire, she is ultimately coded as ethnically safe through her ability to serve as an intercultural bridge and comedic foil to her white upper-middle class second-husband and his family.

Vergara herself has acknowledged that her performance of Gloria is informed by the representational legacy of the Latina spitfire.5 She uses her Colombian identity and exaggerates her curvaceous physicality to produce moments of safe humor. Discussing her decision to change her hair color to appear more stereotypically Latina, Vergara recounts this story in countless media outlets:“But when I started acting, I would go to auditions and they didn’t know where to put me because I was voluptuous and had the accent — but I had blonde hair,” reports OK Magazine. Changing her hair color made a world of difference in her career. The industry’s response was, “‘Oh, she’s the hot Latin girl.’ I loved it,” Vergara said, reports OK Magazine.6 Fast-talking Gloria is the contemporary Latina spitfire often depicted wearing colorful leopard prints, low cleavage shirts, tight fitting pants and dresses (See Image 2).7

Equally as important to the spitfire archetype as stereotypical physical signifiers of Latinidad is the comedic use of language. Through language Gloria is further marked as different, exotic, forever an outsider. In her interview on Inside the Actors Studio (June 9, 2011), Vergara emphasized the importance of language by exaggerating her accent. In combination with grammatical errors, mistakes in vocabulary, linguistic misunderstandings and deadpan mockumentary delivery, her foreignness/difference are foregrounded (See Image 3).

However, Vergara’s performance recontextualizes the Latina spitfire within the contemporary economic context. Whereas the Good Neighbor-era spitfire meant to ease foreign relations in a time of war, Vergara’s spitfire needs to effectively manage her difference during a moment of growing US public anger towards Latino immigration and increasing white economic resentment in the post-race era, when race and racism are frequently presented as irrelevant. Gloria’s performance of ethnoracial difference, then, is central to the series.

Comedic Mediations of White Resentment

By disciplining her Latinidad through humor, US socioeconomic racial hierarchies are maintained. While most of the time the racial humor in the show is subtle – a mischievous glance, a mispronounced or misspoken word, sometimes the racial comedy surrounding Gloria is more explicit (See Image 4). For instance, in the first season episode “The Incident” (Oct 14, 2009) the family recounts how Jay Pritchett’s (Ed O’Neil) ex-wife Deedee (Shelley Long) convinces them to invite her to the wedding. At the wedding, Deedee gets inebriated, refers to Gloria as “Charo” the iconic Latina spitfire icon of the 1970s, and drunkenly states: “To the bride and the groom, my ex, thirty-five years we were together. Seriously, I knew they were perfect for each other when I saw his wallet and her boobs.” Deedee states what perhaps some series audience members are thinking by implying that money and sex rather than an emotional connection fuel the marriage.

Sometimes the humor surrounding Gloria’s character satirically critiques racism. Other times it undercuts the transformative potential of Latina visibility. Gloria’s financial dependence on her second, much-older, wealthier husband to maintain her upper-middle class lifestyle and access to the American Dream positions her as a “good minority” and non-threatening foreigner. By placing a Latina immigrant in an economically subservient role in a heteronormative white middle-class home, Modern Family humorously reframes discourses of white male disempowerment by satirizing ethnic and female enfranchisement. Gloria does not seek to economically compete with other men or women for work outside the home. Her character privileges the nostalgic heteronormative life and values of familial domesticity, particularly her traditional desire to be a nurturing mother and wife.

Despite representations of Gloria’s unique Colombian traditions and positive social relationships with gays/lesbians, the narrative of the show always concludes by recuperating the normative and nostalgic values of whiteness and US heterosexual family life. While the gender relationships at play in the storylines do at times challenge the balance of power in the heterosexual marriages – ornery Jay capitulates to Gloria’s desires; level-headed Claire must come to zany Phil’s rescue – the normative patriarchal order is always reaffirmed. Regardless of the modern issues raised in the episodes – new technology as a family distraction, gay transcultural adoption, ex-spouses crashing family events – the patriarchal structure of the family is reinforced.

Given the show’s nostalgic reification of white masculine authority and normative family life, Vergara’s spitfire character is central for understanding the constraints surrounding Latina representations in an era of heightened resentments. Gloria as a highly feminine, sexual, domestic, middle-class and financially dependent Latina does not fully destabilize the dominant anti-Latino immigration discourse. Vergara/Gloria is the feminized, foreign but desirable ethnoracial other. Her gender and ethnic difference simultaneously foregrounds the normative whiteness of the extended family and is assimilated within the overall narrative as not completely dissimilar to the other characters. After all, the show suggest they might celebrate Christmas in Colombia by playing practical jokes on family members, but the important lesson is that all the characters still celebrate Christmas at home with their extended families.

In a conservative post-race and post-feminist recessionary context defined by white resentment, it is critical to also explore the potentially transformative narratives of popular texts such as Modern Family. Though Gloria is an archetypical character, she is also three-dimensional (See Image 5). An undocumented Colombian immigrant who leaves an emotionally abusive marriage to stake out a better life for her son, her character’s life experiences provide comedic grist to critique the racial and class privilege of the white characters. Whatever disasters or conflicts the other couples are coping with, Gloria’s dialogue always interjects with a far more serious incident from her past. Vergara’s more complex representation of the spitfire archetype functions to remind audiences that Latino lives are compelling and multi-dimensional. Her nuanced re-articulation of the spitfire thus opens up a space of unprecedented visibility and the potential for representational dignity during a moment of economic angst, racial backlash and the meritocratic policies of a post-race neoliberal state.

Image Credits:
1. Modern Family Cast
2. Spitfire Regalia
3. “Run For Your Wife”
4. “The Incident”
5. “Starry Night”

Please feel free to comment.

1. Esposito, J. 2009. “What does race have to do with Ugly Betty? An analysis of privilege and postracial representations on a television sitcom.” Television and New Media, 10:6, p 521.
2. This essay is based on an article by the author “’Latina Wisdom’ in ‘Post-Race’ Recession Media” in D. Negra and Y. Tasker (eds) Gendering the Recession, Duke Press.
3. Ramirez Berg, Charles. 2002. Latino Images in Film: Stereotypes, Subversion, Resistance. UT Press.
4. Ibid.
5. Retrieved from http://www.redbookmag.com/fun-contests/celebrity/sofia-vergara-interview
6. VOXXI View. 2012. “Ellen to Sofia Vergara: Who has more fun blondes or brunettes.” The Voice of the Hispanic 21st Century, January 12. Retrieved from http://voxxi.com/ellen-to-sofia-vergara-who-has-more-fun-blondes-or-brunettes/
7. It is a physical typecasting also resonant with working-class femininity and perhaps a nod to Peggy Bundy’s (Katey Sagal) performance of fatherhood in the 1990’s recession era “Married with Children” starring Ed O’Neill.