Blackness in White Countries

Who do you oppress when there are no black people? As it turns out, I am living in a country where black people are made up, literally. When looking up demographics of Argentina, finding any results of brown people is nearly impossible. Middle Eastern and Arab North Africans are also labeled as white. Like seasoning, color is nearly nonexistent in Argentina. Though more recently there has been a growing immigration rate of their Latin American neighbors, they are still small specks of pimiento in a bowl of sal. Even before the arrival of non european migrants, the negritos of Argentina are known to be the poor and marginalized. 

"Negros Choros No Mas"

No More Black Thieves 

Though identity and culture is quite complex it is a fact that race is a social construct. That means that race is a reflection of the society in which it stands. Race is the United States is different than race in Argentina as it is different in South Africa as it is different in India. There are two universal components to race that has proven to be true in nearly every culture; 1) whiteness is viewed as superiority and 2) blackness is viewed as inferiority. Whether or not we as individuals agree or disagree with these statements, these values are perpetuated in our contexts on a regular basis. Examples of this is skin bleaching, relaxers, the usage of hip hop music in movies to imply dangerous neighborhoods, and of course, slavery. In the words of my people, white supremacy is a helluva drug and anti-blackness is global. The purpose of this explanation is that the correlations made with race have become so significant that you do not need to be black in order to be treated as black in countries where blackness does not exist. But God forbid you are both black in melanin and black in societal standards then you my friend are in bad shape. 

In the U.S. we often speak about these athletes and celebrities that believed they have transcended race because of their socio-economic status. Race has proven to trump socio- economics time and time again when looking at upward mobility but apparently looks quite different on the other end of the spectrum. Here it appears that because of the lack of diversity in many regions it is your class that almost determines your race to the peers around you. Today in youth group one of the kids were speaking about another young boy in the neighborhood who must have shared a first name with another boy. To distinguish him from the rest a young boy shouted, “el negrito!” The room looked at him and said, “dude no discrimination here” which made it clear to me this boy was not in fact my skinfolk but just another poor neighborhood boy. I love my blackness. It is moments like that make me wonder why everyone else hates it.

It has now been a full week since I have moved to Grand Bourg and I have now had a handful of unsolicited conversations about police brutality in Argentina, high incarceration rates and Argentines drawing the parallels to U.S. culture. I have now heard “we have the same problems here” over a dozen times from clergy, locals, and youth. The smurfs, the name locals call the Grand Bourg police, hassle the youth quite often. My supervisor shared her concerns for our jovenes as they journey around the community. She asked the one boy who looked like he could be my cousin to share his most recent police encounter. A hoodie may or may not get you shot in Argentina, but it will definitely cause a disruption. After hearing all of these stories I had to do my own research. Argentina has the fourth highest incarceration rate in Latin America, first is Brazil. The numbers were incomparable to the U.S. but it disturbed me no less that such a country could feel as connected to the sins of Uncle Same as they did here. Why do the people we trust to protect and serve us enjoy killing us? How does the systematic injustices in place in Argentina benefit from incarcerating the poor? 

These conversations brought me back to “La Guerra Sucia” and how our country declares wars on concepts like poverty and drugs as if there are people fighting back. I’m sorry but no one wants to be poor or an addict. I do not remember reading about people on the streets marching for the rights to the Crack Reagan introduced to inner cities, or is that in the Texas history books? 

As compelling as the conversations were, I could not help but be overprotective of my people. The reality is, no matter how close people may feel to an experience, we are not the same. Regardless of all the injustices many Euro- Argentines (and U.S. citizens) may face, none of these injustices are due to your race and that is the difference.

Today I sat in a IELU strategic planning meeting with my collar on and introduced myself as a Vicar. I had an old woman tell me my actions were like baptists because I was very expressive. She told me over and over how much she loved it and loved me. For anyone who has been in this situation before, it’s because I was so “exotic” to her. I’m picante in a dish full of arroz blanco. This same woman later asked me if I was African American and said “Que linda negrita!” None of my other colleagues there were spoken to like a small child or a pet and told “Que linda blancita!” For some folks reading this, you may take this experience as a term of endearment. Regardless of language, I have been in this space time and time before. I’m just the passionate token black girl, right? 

This brings me to my final thoughts around power and privilege. What does it mean for me to be both marginalized and powerful? (Drops laptop and calls Oprah) I speak of this experience of being black in a Euro- centric country yet I still carry with me my U.S. identity. Daily I am comparing prices of products to their U.S. products. At times I find myself shrugging at what I am spending or murmuring “oh man that’s so cheap” when I am riding public transportation. In this context, what I find to be cheap or inexpensive may be moderate to some families. Presently I am looking to develop stewardship campaigns for San Lucas and have been struggling with what giving looks like. Do we tithe 10% here? How much can we charge for a Potluck fundraiser? Even when shopping for my apartment I have to stop myself. I cannot simply donate a new shower head, teapot, mirror, and television simply because I want it for this year. I cannot just purchase a projector and donate it to the church when I leave because it was convenient for this year. In reality, yes I can do all of those things but is the mentality and rational behind it all that is the problem. Having the power to simply buy these things for a short term basis because I can is counterproductive to the reality others are living. The church I am serving has a TV as old as my younger sisters and I am considering picking up a flat screen that I will end up leaving here in 11 months. Unlike my skin, economic power is hidden and is difficult to assume when one is living in the same working class neighborhood as you. I wonder how I am perceived when my nationality is shared with a group of people. Do they still see my skin or do they see my passport, or both? 

Missionary (noun)- a person sent on a religious mission, esp. one sent to promote Christianity in a foreign country.

The Christ of my understanding is black. When looking at the social constructs of 1st century Palestine, the Christ of my understanding is a black man. He represents the rural poor and the uneducated folk of Nazareth. His region was one of the many underserved and overly regulated regions under the command of the Roman Empire. He is as black as the Detroit Public School System being disenfranchised by its own city. He is as black as the people still paying a water bill in Flint, Michigan. Christ is as black as the pueblos originales of North and West Argentina fighting for environmental justice in their land. Christ is  Jesus combatted empire and demanded justice for the marginalized. As a missionary, a person sent on a religious mission especially to promote Christianity, I am committed to the work of Jesus and will uphold his same love for black people. This means to empower disciples of Argentina to continue to combat the Macri empire and seek justice for black, hoodied, and marginalized people. It is my hopes that this year as I continue to work with IELU that we will be able to being long term action towards the mission. In the mean time, I will continue to struggle with this role as the opressor/ oppressed missionary and how I present my U.S. identity in Argentina.

#ReclaimMissionary