[Rosa Guy]'s personal life odyssey has been a major influence on the scope and tone of her writing. Upon arriving in the United States with her parents in the early 1930's and moving to Harlem at the age of eight, Rosa became a prolific observer of African-American culture and the forces that shape its existence in American society. Guy's novels have explored the stifling consequences of poverty in settings as far away as the Caribbean, or as near as New York's Harlem. Once it is published, her newest novel from Dutton Press, The Sun, The Sea, A Touch of the Wind will join an impressive body of literary material authored by Ms. Guy that include: Bird At My Window; A Measure of Time; And Then She Heard A Bird Sing; Edith Jackson; Ruby; Children of the Longing; and Music of Summer.
While Blacks fight for their survival, Colombia's wealthy have other preoccupations. In the highbrow, rarified and polluted air of Santafe de Bogota, the Miss Columbia contest parades its select young women before an expectant nation. The announcers painstakingly describe each aspirant, even to the color of her skin. Save for a few Euro-Indians and a couple of light-skinned Black contestants, all are "white." Miss Santefe de Bogota, the long-legged, white-skinned audience favorite emerges the winner. Barely two hours later and the new Miss Columbia launches her reign by visiting the Black beaches of Cartagena, the port-city through which all enslaved Africans entered Columbia. There, to the delight of the world's photographers, Miss Columbia contrasts her white beauty with the Black skins of heavy-set women from maroon (escaped slaves) communities. The headlines and photos run, front page and center: "Carolina between Maroons," an unabashed reference to the old maxim, "a rise between two thorns." Three years ago the wealthy matron who organizes the Miss Columbia pageant claimed the country was not ready for a Black Miss Columbia.
Last May, President Bush signed an Executive Order allowing the Coast Guard to immediately turn back Haitian boat refugees without checking to determine if they were fleeing political persecution. Before that, thousands of Haitians had crowded into unsafe boats to try to get away from their dangerous homeland. The U.S. tagged them "economic" rather than political refugees. "The fact is our government has turned a blind eye to Haitians," said Wade Henderson, director of NAACP's Washington bureau. I have a dream that I intend to make a reality. I'm calling on African Americans and Haitians here in Miami to come together to sit down, talk and work out a plan to help Haitians. But I'm also asking that Hispanics, Jews, Anglos -- everyone -- pitch in to help.
Amid the flurry of designations by the media, law enforcement officials, and advocacy organizations--terms ranging from "migrants" to "asylum-seekers" to "economic refugees"--one thing was clear. The people aboard that boat had fled desperate conditions for safe harbor in the U.S. What awaited them when they touched land was then, and remains, a matter of great contention. When asked about the implications of the designation "migrant," Miami field office INS public relations officer Barbara Gonzalez said that in the context of INS policy, "There is really no such thing as a migrant." She said, "Many use the word," when the correct terminology for what they intend is "non-immigrant." How about the terms "alien" and "refugee?" Amnesty International notes that the term "alien" has been used in U.S. legislation to describe various types of non-citizens, including those Amnesty would call "asylum-seekers." Similarly, the INS describes an alien as any non-citizen or national of the U.S.
