While some forget that the United States does not have a monopoly over the title "America," the term, with some exceptions, encompasses most of the Western Hemisphere. As such, many of the communities of African descent that reside within this range possess equal claim to the name "African Americans." The event commemorated "Black Consciousness Day," an annual holiday that is celebrated in Brazil on November 20. The public holiday pays tribute to an African ancestor, Zumbi dos Palmares, revered by Blacks in the country for his fierce resistance to slavery in the 17th century. The day was consciously chosen to symbolize the ongoing struggles of Blacks to achieve social and economic equality in Brazil.
African American Research Center, Library, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
Notes:
246 p., With the abolition of the slave trade in 1807 and the emancipation of all slaves throughout the British Empire in 1833, Britain washed its hands of slavery. Not so, according to Marika Sherwood, who sets the record straight in this provocative new book. In fact, Sherwood demonstrates Britain continued to contribute to and profit from the slave trade well after 1807, even into the twentieth century. Chapter 4 is about Cuba and Brazil, pp. 83-111.
In this, he's not unlike his counterparts in the United States, where black people also have an extensive vocabulary to describe variations in skin tone. In the United States, one can be "high yellow" (i.e., of very light skin); one can be "red" (i.e., with a reddish tint; one of Malcolm X's early nicknames was "Detroit Red"); or one can be any of a number of synonyms for dark. Like, for instance, "Smokey." In fact, the famous (and "high yellow") Motown singer William Robinson was given that nickname in affectionate irony by one of his father's friends - sort of like calling a fat guy Tiny. The same is not true in Brazil. And if the United States is a country where black people with light skin used to sometimes "pass," i.e., pretend to be white, well, in this country "passing is a national institution." So says Elisa Nascimento with a laugh. She is white, American-born and the wife of Abdias do Nascimento, a 90-year-old black Brazilian artist and political icon. And the insistence of some Brazilian blacks on "passing," she says, has political consequences in that it tends to distort statistics on black life. "The way racism works in Brazil . . . there is a hierarchy, and so people tend to identify themselves lighter than they necessarily would be." "It was a rough time," she says in her imperfect English. "For me, was impossible to live there. We could not be married. Why I married with a black guy, you know? So when I say to you that Brazil was different . . . even my first husband didn't think of himself as black. In Brazil, he was a Brazilian, even though he was black. He never thought of himself as someone different from me because he was another color."
