Championing the Diversity and Excellence of Latino Literature
Latino Book Tour
Every author knows there is more to selling books than appearing at a bookstore and signing books. In today's climate, exposure is important on a grand scale through the internet. Virtual book tours give you that exposure.
What you gain in a book tour is something that cannot be bought. Word of mouth publicity and name recognition are vital products to any author's marketing and promotional book campaigns.
Word of mouth is when all these visitors tell their friends that they spoke to the author and found them to be fun and pleasant. A fan is born.
Name recognition remains in the visitors mind, and when they enter a bookstore, they are immediately drawn to the author's book cover. A formented thought tells them that they know this author, somehow, not sure how or where, and they remember reading that the book was good.
To earn your sale, I can car-salesman promise you tons of books sold and flounting your reputation throughout cyberspace.
The reality is we are a group of Latino/a bloggers who value our writers. We want to offer them an opportunity to speak to our visitors in the hopes that everyone will like the Latino/a author and tell people about them. We advocate books, reading, and supporting our authors. If you have been in the book selling business for a while, you will know that this attitude is rare.
Latino/a Virtual Book Tours has the distinct advantage and pleasure of putting you in front of a Latino/a audience, an audience who is willing to be educated about the pleasures of reading your books and learning about how you write. One people you would never be able to reach in any with-walls bookstore.
Latino/a Virtual Book Tours offers you the audience reach that has economic strategists boasting of brand loyalty beyond any other group.
Others may boast bigger numbers. No one can "shout out" like Latino/as.
Monday, January 25, 2010
TOP ten things overheard at Sheriff Arpaio protest in Arizona
TOP Ten Things overheard at Sheriff Arpaio protest in Arizona
By Al Carlos Hernandez (Special to the Latino Journal E-News)
10.Why are the Aztecs dancers wearing watches, shouldn’t they have sun dials?
9. Undercover Cops were most likely Hispanic rather than Latino.
8. Sheriff Arpaio makes convicts wear pink underwear so he won’t feel left out.
7. The Children they pepper sprayed may grow up to be MALDEF attorneys.
6. Ten thousand marched, five people arrested, ironically Gringos.
5. As the protest marched, Jailers played Linda Ronstadt music to drown out protesters, they tried to play some Rage but this caused some of the horses and a few cops’ bladder control problems.
4. Female officer on a horse ran into the crowd, when the crowd commented that the horse was better looking.
3. One gay Arizona officer unwittingly sprayed the mostly Latino crowd with Aqua Net.
2. With a Black President, Brown people shouldn’t still have to march for freedom.
1. No, Zack de La Rocha was not tased; his hair is always like that.
By Al Carlos Hernandez (Special to the Latino Journal E-News)
10.Why are the Aztecs dancers wearing watches, shouldn’t they have sun dials?
9. Undercover Cops were most likely Hispanic rather than Latino.
8. Sheriff Arpaio makes convicts wear pink underwear so he won’t feel left out.
7. The Children they pepper sprayed may grow up to be MALDEF attorneys.
6. Ten thousand marched, five people arrested, ironically Gringos.
5. As the protest marched, Jailers played Linda Ronstadt music to drown out protesters, they tried to play some Rage but this caused some of the horses and a few cops’ bladder control problems.
4. Female officer on a horse ran into the crowd, when the crowd commented that the horse was better looking.
3. One gay Arizona officer unwittingly sprayed the mostly Latino crowd with Aqua Net.
2. With a Black President, Brown people shouldn’t still have to march for freedom.
1. No, Zack de La Rocha was not tased; his hair is always like that.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Top ten signs your Tia won't make it on American Idol
TOP Ten signs your Tia won’t make it on American Idol
By Al Carlos Hernandez (Special to the Latino Journal)
10. She wanted to do a tune by Maria Hairy.
9. She told Simon don’t give me no lip, cause you don’t have a top one.
8. Was too Panzonna to play her accordion.
7. Once she sang "Volver", she knew she wouldn’t.
6. Told Randy the only Dogg in here is your face, Stupit!
5. Tried to fix Kara up with her cousin Barnabell.
4. Fell off her Payless pumps during her pop lock dance interlude.
3. Brought Posh the spice girl a plate of food and some vitamins.
2. Called Seacrest, DeGeneres.
1. Refused to sing, didn’t trust anybody to hold her purse.
By Al Carlos Hernandez (Special to the Latino Journal)
10. She wanted to do a tune by Maria Hairy.
9. She told Simon don’t give me no lip, cause you don’t have a top one.
8. Was too Panzonna to play her accordion.
7. Once she sang "Volver", she knew she wouldn’t.
6. Told Randy the only Dogg in here is your face, Stupit!
5. Tried to fix Kara up with her cousin Barnabell.
4. Fell off her Payless pumps during her pop lock dance interlude.
3. Brought Posh the spice girl a plate of food and some vitamins.
2. Called Seacrest, DeGeneres.
1. Refused to sing, didn’t trust anybody to hold her purse.
Latino theater company to be focus of conference
UCSB Conference to Focus on El Teatro Campesino and Chicano/Latino Theater
The Latino Journal E-News
To mark the opening of the Teatro Campesino archives, UC Santa Barbara will host a one-day conference later this month featuring Luis Valdez, the founder and artistic director of the world-renowned Latino theater company.
Titled "Necessary Theater: Luis Valdez and El Teatro Campesino," the conference will begin at 9 a.m. on Tuesday, January 12, in the campus's MultiCultural Center. It is free and open to the public. The program will explore Chicano/Latino theater in the United States, as well as Latin American theater. It will include panel discussions; a keynote speech by Valdez, titled "Up From the Roots: The Flowering of El Teatro Campesino"; and a stage performance by the political comedy troupe Chicano Secret Service.
"This conference is a milestone for us as we celebrate the opening of the Teatro Campesino archives," said Salvador Güereña, director of UCSB's California Ethnic Multicultural Archives ( CEMA ), where the collection resides. "The Teatro's historical archive is of inestimable value to understanding the origins and the evolution of Chicano theater." Until now, the archives have, for the most part, been closed, and scholars, students, and the general public had little or no access to them.
Among the archives is a collection of vintage video recordings, made available by CEMA last summer, that represent the first 25 years of the company's history. The recordings feature vintage theater performances; historical documentaries on the farm workers movement; scenes from the award-winning play and film "Zoot Suit"; and such shows as "Rose of the Rancho," "Los Corridos," and "La Pastorela." Other documents and materials in the archives include interviews with Valdez and other members of the theater company; commentaries by United Farm Workers leader César Chavez; scripts and production notes; photographs, graphic art, and set designs; audio recordings; and correspondence files.
"Luis Valdez and El Teatro Campesino influenced a generation of young Chicano artists, many of whom cast their lot and joined different Chicano theater companies in the 1960's and 70's," said Carlos Morton, a professor of theater and dance at UCSB. "I joined the San Francisco Mime Troupe from 1979-81, a company that Valdez worked with earlier in his career. We owe a debt to him and others who started this incredible theater movement that brought joy and pride to a generation of Chicanos –– a movement that still continues today and is recognized worldwide."
Valdez founded El Teatro Campesino during the Great Delano Grape Strike of 1965, with short performances for audiences of farm workers in the fields of California's Central Valley. Within five years, El Teatro had gained an international reputation and had inspired the formation of many other Chicano theater companies. During the company's early years, all the actors were farm workers. Valdez emphasized ensemble work, in which all actors contributed to the interpretation of the performance. Most troupe members took on multiple roles, with one person serving as an actor, technical director, company manager, and tour coordinator.
A Council Member of the National Endowment for the Arts, Valdez is also a founding faculty member of California State University, Monterey Bay. He is the recipient of honorary doctorates from San Jose State University, the University of Santa Clara, Columbia College of Chicago, and the California Institute of the Arts. His first major critical and popular success was a production of his play "Zoot Suit," which was funded through a Rockefeller Foundation Artist-in-Residence grant in 1977 and subsequently became the first play by a Chicano to be produced on Broadway. Among his other creative projects are a film version of "Zoot Suit," which received a Golden Globe Award nomination for "Best Musical Picture" in 1981; the film "La Bamba," which was written and directed by Valdez; and an adaptation of his own stage play, "Corridos: Tales of Passion and Revolution," for which he received the George Peabody Award for Excellence in Television in 1987.
Other projects include "The Cisco Kid," a film Valdez directed for Turner Network Television, and a biopic for Warner Brothers on the life of Cesar Chávez, for which he is writing the screenplay.
The Latino Journal E-News
To mark the opening of the Teatro Campesino archives, UC Santa Barbara will host a one-day conference later this month featuring Luis Valdez, the founder and artistic director of the world-renowned Latino theater company.
Titled "Necessary Theater: Luis Valdez and El Teatro Campesino," the conference will begin at 9 a.m. on Tuesday, January 12, in the campus's MultiCultural Center. It is free and open to the public. The program will explore Chicano/Latino theater in the United States, as well as Latin American theater. It will include panel discussions; a keynote speech by Valdez, titled "Up From the Roots: The Flowering of El Teatro Campesino"; and a stage performance by the political comedy troupe Chicano Secret Service.
"This conference is a milestone for us as we celebrate the opening of the Teatro Campesino archives," said Salvador Güereña, director of UCSB's California Ethnic Multicultural Archives ( CEMA ), where the collection resides. "The Teatro's historical archive is of inestimable value to understanding the origins and the evolution of Chicano theater." Until now, the archives have, for the most part, been closed, and scholars, students, and the general public had little or no access to them.
Among the archives is a collection of vintage video recordings, made available by CEMA last summer, that represent the first 25 years of the company's history. The recordings feature vintage theater performances; historical documentaries on the farm workers movement; scenes from the award-winning play and film "Zoot Suit"; and such shows as "Rose of the Rancho," "Los Corridos," and "La Pastorela." Other documents and materials in the archives include interviews with Valdez and other members of the theater company; commentaries by United Farm Workers leader César Chavez; scripts and production notes; photographs, graphic art, and set designs; audio recordings; and correspondence files.
"Luis Valdez and El Teatro Campesino influenced a generation of young Chicano artists, many of whom cast their lot and joined different Chicano theater companies in the 1960's and 70's," said Carlos Morton, a professor of theater and dance at UCSB. "I joined the San Francisco Mime Troupe from 1979-81, a company that Valdez worked with earlier in his career. We owe a debt to him and others who started this incredible theater movement that brought joy and pride to a generation of Chicanos –– a movement that still continues today and is recognized worldwide."
Valdez founded El Teatro Campesino during the Great Delano Grape Strike of 1965, with short performances for audiences of farm workers in the fields of California's Central Valley. Within five years, El Teatro had gained an international reputation and had inspired the formation of many other Chicano theater companies. During the company's early years, all the actors were farm workers. Valdez emphasized ensemble work, in which all actors contributed to the interpretation of the performance. Most troupe members took on multiple roles, with one person serving as an actor, technical director, company manager, and tour coordinator.
A Council Member of the National Endowment for the Arts, Valdez is also a founding faculty member of California State University, Monterey Bay. He is the recipient of honorary doctorates from San Jose State University, the University of Santa Clara, Columbia College of Chicago, and the California Institute of the Arts. His first major critical and popular success was a production of his play "Zoot Suit," which was funded through a Rockefeller Foundation Artist-in-Residence grant in 1977 and subsequently became the first play by a Chicano to be produced on Broadway. Among his other creative projects are a film version of "Zoot Suit," which received a Golden Globe Award nomination for "Best Musical Picture" in 1981; the film "La Bamba," which was written and directed by Valdez; and an adaptation of his own stage play, "Corridos: Tales of Passion and Revolution," for which he received the George Peabody Award for Excellence in Television in 1987.
Other projects include "The Cisco Kid," a film Valdez directed for Turner Network Television, and a biopic for Warner Brothers on the life of Cesar Chávez, for which he is writing the screenplay.
Latinos to be recognized
Hispanic Network to honor Reyes, Vega on Jan. 19
Napavalleyregister.com, January 12, 2010
The Napa County Hispanic Network will honor the recipients of its annual Lifetime Achievement and Friends of the Network Awards on Jan. 19 at the Napa Valley Opera House. This year’s Lifetime Achievement Awards honorees are Maria Vega and Arturo “Arty” Reyes.
Vega is a Spanish teacher at Napa High School who has mentored and inspired many Latino and migrant students to excel in college preparatory and honors curriculum. Reyes, the host of the popular N.A.P.A. Show (Newest Arty Party Adventure) on Napa TV, has helped people with disabilities for more than 20 year and is an employment specialist with Napa Valley Support Services /Napa Personnel Systems.
The recipients of the Friends of the Network Awards are: Jill Schrutz, director of the Financial Aid and EOPS Office at Napa Valley College, and Peggy Suckow, retired bilingual speech therapist for Napa County Office of Education. The awards reception, which is free and open to the public, will be held at 5:30 p.m. on Jan. 19 at the Napa Valley Opera House, 1000 Main St., Napa.
Napavalleyregister.com, January 12, 2010
The Napa County Hispanic Network will honor the recipients of its annual Lifetime Achievement and Friends of the Network Awards on Jan. 19 at the Napa Valley Opera House. This year’s Lifetime Achievement Awards honorees are Maria Vega and Arturo “Arty” Reyes.
Vega is a Spanish teacher at Napa High School who has mentored and inspired many Latino and migrant students to excel in college preparatory and honors curriculum. Reyes, the host of the popular N.A.P.A. Show (Newest Arty Party Adventure) on Napa TV, has helped people with disabilities for more than 20 year and is an employment specialist with Napa Valley Support Services /Napa Personnel Systems.
The recipients of the Friends of the Network Awards are: Jill Schrutz, director of the Financial Aid and EOPS Office at Napa Valley College, and Peggy Suckow, retired bilingual speech therapist for Napa County Office of Education. The awards reception, which is free and open to the public, will be held at 5:30 p.m. on Jan. 19 at the Napa Valley Opera House, 1000 Main St., Napa.
Hispanics in Florida push for soccer World Cup
South Florida named as one of 18 finalists
BY MICHELLE KAUFMAN, MiamiHerald.com
Miami boasts the highest U.S. television ratings for the World Cup every four years. On Tuesday, the soccer-savvy city got one big step closer to hosting the event it so passionately follows.
Fifteen years after being passed over as a World Cup host city, Miami was named by the U.S. World Cup bid committee as one of 18 finalists to hold matches in 2018 or 2022, assuming the United States is awarded one of those World Cups by FIFA, the sport's governing body.
University of Miami president Donna Shalala, a member of the U.S. bid committee, said of Miami's inclusion: ``We are an international soccer city. Our citizens know the best players in the world. The fans around the world love coming here. I am ecstatic.''
Marcelo Claure, a Miami-based Bolivian cellphone magnate who attempted to bring a Major League Soccer franchise to Miami, was involved in the local bid. He said: ``The soccer lovers in this market deserve to see the World Cup live in their city. People here have always been willing to support soccer, as long as it's world-class soccer. That's the eternal MLS challenge with this market. But bring them the best players in the world, and they will go crazy.''
NEW DEMOGRAPHICS
Claure believes the changing demographics make South Florida a better World Cup city now than 15 years ago.
``In 1994, the Hispanic community here was mostly Cuban, and the Cuban community doesn't consider soccer their top sport. But now, this area is comprised of many different nationalities whose main form of entertainment is soccer.''
The U.S. bid is due to FIFA by May 14, and in December, FIFA will name the 2018 and 2022 hosts.
At that point, FIFA likely will ask the host nations to trim the list of venues to about a dozen.
The other cities included in the U.S. bid are Atlanta, Baltimore, Boston, Dallas, Denver, Houston, Indianapolis, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Nashville, New York, Philadelphia, Phoenix, San Diego, Seattle, Tampa Bay and Washington.
Notably absent are San Francisco, Chicago, Detroit, and Orlando, all of which played host to 1994 World Cup matches.
Local soccer dignitaries gathered at Segafredo Brickell in downtown Miami on Tuesday afternoon to watch the announcement on ESPNews.
The room erupted when Miami was named.
“The World Cup is not just a soccer tournament, it's a global party, and are we the right city to throw a global party, or what?'' beamed longtime Miami soccer promoter Tom Mulroy. “We host a Super Bowl every three years. We know how to do this.''
Miami was one of 27 cities bidding to make the final 18, and its strengths included a state-of-the-art venue in Dolphin Stadium, an international airport, hotels, restaurants and beaches.
“We welcome the world every day!'' was the motto of the Miami bid committee, which was led by Mike Sophia, executive director of the Miami-Dade Sports Commission, and Miami-Dade Commissioner Jose “Pepe'' Diaz.
“Our stadium is ready now, we are a multicultural city, and we know how to host international tourists,'' Sophia said. “Plus, we dispelled the notion that we love soccer but can't pull together as a soccer community.''
‘SHOCKING' SUPPORT
Each city had an on-line petition to show grass roots support, and Miami ended up in fourth place among the 27 with 10,872 signatures.
“To show that kind of local activism was shocking,'' said Aaron Davidson, president of Miami FC, a second-division professional team.
It helped Miami that summer is its tourism off-season, meaning space and good rates in area hotels.
One reason Miami was passed for Orlando in 1994 was that the World Cup dates conflicted with Major League Baseball. This time, the Marlins will be in their new home, leaving Dolphin Stadium open for World Cup dates.
The other countries bidding for the World Cups against the United States are Australia, England, Japan, Spain/Portugal and Russia.
BY MICHELLE KAUFMAN, MiamiHerald.com
Miami boasts the highest U.S. television ratings for the World Cup every four years. On Tuesday, the soccer-savvy city got one big step closer to hosting the event it so passionately follows.
Fifteen years after being passed over as a World Cup host city, Miami was named by the U.S. World Cup bid committee as one of 18 finalists to hold matches in 2018 or 2022, assuming the United States is awarded one of those World Cups by FIFA, the sport's governing body.
University of Miami president Donna Shalala, a member of the U.S. bid committee, said of Miami's inclusion: ``We are an international soccer city. Our citizens know the best players in the world. The fans around the world love coming here. I am ecstatic.''
Marcelo Claure, a Miami-based Bolivian cellphone magnate who attempted to bring a Major League Soccer franchise to Miami, was involved in the local bid. He said: ``The soccer lovers in this market deserve to see the World Cup live in their city. People here have always been willing to support soccer, as long as it's world-class soccer. That's the eternal MLS challenge with this market. But bring them the best players in the world, and they will go crazy.''
NEW DEMOGRAPHICS
Claure believes the changing demographics make South Florida a better World Cup city now than 15 years ago.
``In 1994, the Hispanic community here was mostly Cuban, and the Cuban community doesn't consider soccer their top sport. But now, this area is comprised of many different nationalities whose main form of entertainment is soccer.''
The U.S. bid is due to FIFA by May 14, and in December, FIFA will name the 2018 and 2022 hosts.
At that point, FIFA likely will ask the host nations to trim the list of venues to about a dozen.
The other cities included in the U.S. bid are Atlanta, Baltimore, Boston, Dallas, Denver, Houston, Indianapolis, Kansas City, Los Angeles, Nashville, New York, Philadelphia, Phoenix, San Diego, Seattle, Tampa Bay and Washington.
Notably absent are San Francisco, Chicago, Detroit, and Orlando, all of which played host to 1994 World Cup matches.
Local soccer dignitaries gathered at Segafredo Brickell in downtown Miami on Tuesday afternoon to watch the announcement on ESPNews.
The room erupted when Miami was named.
“The World Cup is not just a soccer tournament, it's a global party, and are we the right city to throw a global party, or what?'' beamed longtime Miami soccer promoter Tom Mulroy. “We host a Super Bowl every three years. We know how to do this.''
Miami was one of 27 cities bidding to make the final 18, and its strengths included a state-of-the-art venue in Dolphin Stadium, an international airport, hotels, restaurants and beaches.
“We welcome the world every day!'' was the motto of the Miami bid committee, which was led by Mike Sophia, executive director of the Miami-Dade Sports Commission, and Miami-Dade Commissioner Jose “Pepe'' Diaz.
“Our stadium is ready now, we are a multicultural city, and we know how to host international tourists,'' Sophia said. “Plus, we dispelled the notion that we love soccer but can't pull together as a soccer community.''
‘SHOCKING' SUPPORT
Each city had an on-line petition to show grass roots support, and Miami ended up in fourth place among the 27 with 10,872 signatures.
“To show that kind of local activism was shocking,'' said Aaron Davidson, president of Miami FC, a second-division professional team.
It helped Miami that summer is its tourism off-season, meaning space and good rates in area hotels.
One reason Miami was passed for Orlando in 1994 was that the World Cup dates conflicted with Major League Baseball. This time, the Marlins will be in their new home, leaving Dolphin Stadium open for World Cup dates.
The other countries bidding for the World Cups against the United States are Australia, England, Japan, Spain/Portugal and Russia.
Some Latinos left out of baseball
Studying baseball's other color line
By DAN GERINGER, Philadelphia Daily News, Jan. 12, 2010
LIKE MOST PHILLIES diehards, Jeffrey Shultz spends the winter counting the days until pitchers and catchers report for spring training in Florida. Unlike his fellow fans, Shultz also pursues his lifelong quest to unravel the mysteries of racial and ethnic discrimination in Major League Baseball.
He's as concerned as the next person about whether the Phillies blew another shot at a championship by not keeping pitching ace Cliff Lee to form a daunting duo with newly acquired superstar Roy Halladay.
But he's equally worried that although baseball has come a long way since 1950, when the Phillies and the New York Yankees played the last all-white World Series, a vestige of the double-standard "color line" days remains.
Young, foreign-born Latino prospects, who are not eligible for Major League Baseball's lucrative draft because they are not U.S. citizens, sign as free agents for thousands of dollars to play in the minors, while American prospects get hundreds of thousands.
"You can hire 10 Dominican players for the price of one American college player," Shultz said. "That college kid [Stephen Strasburg] who signed with the Washington Nationals for millions? That deal doesn't happen for kids coming out of Dominican baseball academies."
Last fall, Shultz, an anthropologist and education professor at Arcadia University in Glenside, Montgomery County, began teaching "Baseball and Beisbol: The Evolution of Race and Ethnicity in the Major Leagues," focusing on the tangled history of Latino ballplayers before and after Jackie Robinson broke MLB's color line.
"Everybody talks about Jackie Robinson, but nobody knows what happened with the Latino players," Shultz said. "I've spent my entire life trying to make sense of this mystery."
Shultz's passion for scrutinizing the culturally controversial back alleys of the majors comes from his extraordinary past.
His German-Jewish father's family escaped the Holocaust on one of the last boats out of Europe in 1939.
His parents moved from New York to Puerto Rico in 1948, a year before Shultz was born, to open a factory there, so he grew up on a farm near Arecibo in the 1950s, playing baseball in a pasture 100 feet from his house.
The bases were cow patties. The dozen or so kids he played with were part of the extended Puerto Rican family that owned the farm.
"I grew up with that family like they were my cousins," Shultz said. "The family patriarch treated me like he treated his own grandkids. When they got spanked, I got spanked. I was part of their family."
The kids' skin colors ranged from very dark to very light, Shultz said, but that was simply reality, not a barrier.
"It was clear to me from a very young age that there were differences between my family and the other kids," he said. "We spoke English at home. They spoke Spanish. We were Jewish. They were Catholic. We were from the United States. They were Independentistas - members of the political party that wanted Puerto Rico to break off from the United States."
But to Shultz these were like the difference between beisbol and baseball - different culture, same game.
"There was a big mango tree in back of our field," Shultz said. "We'd play baseball, then go eat mangoes."
From the cow pasture in Arecibo to the sandlots in San Juan - where the family moved when Shultz was a young teenager - baseball was never about skin color for him. It was always about the game.
In the racially turbulent '60s, Shultz became painfully aware that skin color was a defining issue in the States, but he didn't understand why.
Decades later, at age 60, a boyhood voice inside Shultz continues to ask why - especially about Latino players, whose "color line" history is more hidden than the Jackie Robinson breakthrough.
"The Latino color line in the majors shifted depending on what the owners needed," Shultz said. "They let light-skinned Latinos play in '40s because the war created a shortage of major leaguers, but those Latinos couldn't be darker than a certain shade.
"Luis Olmo played outfield for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the early '40s before Jackie Robinson broke the color line," he said. "Olmo was from Arecibo so I met him in town when I was a kid. My father was darker-skinned than he was."
Shultz said that the rise of Latino ballplayers in the majors can be traced within three generations of the family of Phillies general manager Ruben Amaro Jr.
Amaro's Cuban-born grandfather, Santos Amaro, chose to play in the Mexican League because he was dark-skinned and Major League Baseball's color line would have forced him to play in the Negro Leagues here.
His son, Ruben Sr., born in Mexico, played for the Phillies in the 1960s, coming in with the first wave of black and Latino players following Jackie Robinson.
Third-generation Ruben Amaro Jr. was born in the United States, so he was in the Major League Baseball draft, just like all other American-born players (including those from Puerto Rico, which is a U.S. commonwealth.)
"So the three generations of his family epitomize the changes in Major League Baseball," Shultz said, "from his grandfather not being allowed to play in the major leagues to Ruben Jr. taking full advantage of the system and rising from major-league ballplayer to general manager."
Shultz acknowledges that he is somewhat obsessed by the bittersweet story of Vic Power, another Arecibo native son, whose frankness on matters of race - told by a Southern waiter that the restaurant didn't serve Negroes, Power said he didn't eat Negroes, he just wanted rice and beans - kept him in the New York Yankees' minor leagues until they sent him to the Philadelphia Athletics in 1954.
"I remember reading articles about Vic Power as a child and understanding something about racism and exclusion that I couldn't have learned any other way," Shultz said.
"I have a little Vic Power shrine in my study - signed baseballs, photos and every baseball card of his," he said.
Power had a fine 12-year major league career. But Shultz, an invited guest when the Baseball Hall of Fame opened its "Viva Baseball" tribute to Latino players last spring, said that when he asked Orlando Cepeda about Power, the great outfielder/first baseman "said that if the Yankees hadn't kept Power in the minors so long, he would have been in the Hall of Fame because he was that good."
When Shultz asks himself why he has devoted 30 years of his teaching career to examining racial and ethnic injustice, he talks about "another side to my relationship with Puerto Rico, a side quite different from the idyllic stories of playing baseball in the cow pastures with my friends."
In 1966, Shultz said, his father's Arecibo factory, which made artists' brushes, was bought by a larger company that closed the factory and moved it to the Dominican Republic, where labor was cheaper.
"This meant that a couple hundred people, some of whom had worked for my father for 20 years, were now unemployed on an island where unemployment figures ran as high as 30 percent," Shultz said. "My father was devastated by the news." And Shultz carried a feeling of guilt around for years.
"Now, my predominant feeling is anger," Shultz said. "Anger over exploiting a people, using them when they needed them and then spitting them out in order to earn a few more bucks somewhere else.
"This confluence of these two sets of emotions - love for a place that was home in my formative years, versus anger at what people who look like me did to the people of the island - leaves me with a real sense of ambivalence and sorrow," Shultz said.
And so he continues to examine the ongoing history of exploitation in Major League Baseball, a business much like a factory.
While Shultz anxiously awaits late February, when Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater, Fla., he also awaits the day when young Dominican and other foreign-born Latino players are eligible for the draft and the big bucks that American hopefuls enjoy as a birthright.
geringd@phillynews.com 215-854-5961
By DAN GERINGER, Philadelphia Daily News, Jan. 12, 2010
LIKE MOST PHILLIES diehards, Jeffrey Shultz spends the winter counting the days until pitchers and catchers report for spring training in Florida. Unlike his fellow fans, Shultz also pursues his lifelong quest to unravel the mysteries of racial and ethnic discrimination in Major League Baseball.
He's as concerned as the next person about whether the Phillies blew another shot at a championship by not keeping pitching ace Cliff Lee to form a daunting duo with newly acquired superstar Roy Halladay.
But he's equally worried that although baseball has come a long way since 1950, when the Phillies and the New York Yankees played the last all-white World Series, a vestige of the double-standard "color line" days remains.
Young, foreign-born Latino prospects, who are not eligible for Major League Baseball's lucrative draft because they are not U.S. citizens, sign as free agents for thousands of dollars to play in the minors, while American prospects get hundreds of thousands.
"You can hire 10 Dominican players for the price of one American college player," Shultz said. "That college kid [Stephen Strasburg] who signed with the Washington Nationals for millions? That deal doesn't happen for kids coming out of Dominican baseball academies."
Last fall, Shultz, an anthropologist and education professor at Arcadia University in Glenside, Montgomery County, began teaching "Baseball and Beisbol: The Evolution of Race and Ethnicity in the Major Leagues," focusing on the tangled history of Latino ballplayers before and after Jackie Robinson broke MLB's color line.
"Everybody talks about Jackie Robinson, but nobody knows what happened with the Latino players," Shultz said. "I've spent my entire life trying to make sense of this mystery."
Shultz's passion for scrutinizing the culturally controversial back alleys of the majors comes from his extraordinary past.
His German-Jewish father's family escaped the Holocaust on one of the last boats out of Europe in 1939.
His parents moved from New York to Puerto Rico in 1948, a year before Shultz was born, to open a factory there, so he grew up on a farm near Arecibo in the 1950s, playing baseball in a pasture 100 feet from his house.
The bases were cow patties. The dozen or so kids he played with were part of the extended Puerto Rican family that owned the farm.
"I grew up with that family like they were my cousins," Shultz said. "The family patriarch treated me like he treated his own grandkids. When they got spanked, I got spanked. I was part of their family."
The kids' skin colors ranged from very dark to very light, Shultz said, but that was simply reality, not a barrier.
"It was clear to me from a very young age that there were differences between my family and the other kids," he said. "We spoke English at home. They spoke Spanish. We were Jewish. They were Catholic. We were from the United States. They were Independentistas - members of the political party that wanted Puerto Rico to break off from the United States."
But to Shultz these were like the difference between beisbol and baseball - different culture, same game.
"There was a big mango tree in back of our field," Shultz said. "We'd play baseball, then go eat mangoes."
From the cow pasture in Arecibo to the sandlots in San Juan - where the family moved when Shultz was a young teenager - baseball was never about skin color for him. It was always about the game.
In the racially turbulent '60s, Shultz became painfully aware that skin color was a defining issue in the States, but he didn't understand why.
Decades later, at age 60, a boyhood voice inside Shultz continues to ask why - especially about Latino players, whose "color line" history is more hidden than the Jackie Robinson breakthrough.
"The Latino color line in the majors shifted depending on what the owners needed," Shultz said. "They let light-skinned Latinos play in '40s because the war created a shortage of major leaguers, but those Latinos couldn't be darker than a certain shade.
"Luis Olmo played outfield for the Brooklyn Dodgers in the early '40s before Jackie Robinson broke the color line," he said. "Olmo was from Arecibo so I met him in town when I was a kid. My father was darker-skinned than he was."
Shultz said that the rise of Latino ballplayers in the majors can be traced within three generations of the family of Phillies general manager Ruben Amaro Jr.
Amaro's Cuban-born grandfather, Santos Amaro, chose to play in the Mexican League because he was dark-skinned and Major League Baseball's color line would have forced him to play in the Negro Leagues here.
His son, Ruben Sr., born in Mexico, played for the Phillies in the 1960s, coming in with the first wave of black and Latino players following Jackie Robinson.
Third-generation Ruben Amaro Jr. was born in the United States, so he was in the Major League Baseball draft, just like all other American-born players (including those from Puerto Rico, which is a U.S. commonwealth.)
"So the three generations of his family epitomize the changes in Major League Baseball," Shultz said, "from his grandfather not being allowed to play in the major leagues to Ruben Jr. taking full advantage of the system and rising from major-league ballplayer to general manager."
Shultz acknowledges that he is somewhat obsessed by the bittersweet story of Vic Power, another Arecibo native son, whose frankness on matters of race - told by a Southern waiter that the restaurant didn't serve Negroes, Power said he didn't eat Negroes, he just wanted rice and beans - kept him in the New York Yankees' minor leagues until they sent him to the Philadelphia Athletics in 1954.
"I remember reading articles about Vic Power as a child and understanding something about racism and exclusion that I couldn't have learned any other way," Shultz said.
"I have a little Vic Power shrine in my study - signed baseballs, photos and every baseball card of his," he said.
Power had a fine 12-year major league career. But Shultz, an invited guest when the Baseball Hall of Fame opened its "Viva Baseball" tribute to Latino players last spring, said that when he asked Orlando Cepeda about Power, the great outfielder/first baseman "said that if the Yankees hadn't kept Power in the minors so long, he would have been in the Hall of Fame because he was that good."
When Shultz asks himself why he has devoted 30 years of his teaching career to examining racial and ethnic injustice, he talks about "another side to my relationship with Puerto Rico, a side quite different from the idyllic stories of playing baseball in the cow pastures with my friends."
In 1966, Shultz said, his father's Arecibo factory, which made artists' brushes, was bought by a larger company that closed the factory and moved it to the Dominican Republic, where labor was cheaper.
"This meant that a couple hundred people, some of whom had worked for my father for 20 years, were now unemployed on an island where unemployment figures ran as high as 30 percent," Shultz said. "My father was devastated by the news." And Shultz carried a feeling of guilt around for years.
"Now, my predominant feeling is anger," Shultz said. "Anger over exploiting a people, using them when they needed them and then spitting them out in order to earn a few more bucks somewhere else.
"This confluence of these two sets of emotions - love for a place that was home in my formative years, versus anger at what people who look like me did to the people of the island - leaves me with a real sense of ambivalence and sorrow," Shultz said.
And so he continues to examine the ongoing history of exploitation in Major League Baseball, a business much like a factory.
While Shultz anxiously awaits late February, when Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater, Fla., he also awaits the day when young Dominican and other foreign-born Latino players are eligible for the draft and the big bucks that American hopefuls enjoy as a birthright.
geringd@phillynews.com 215-854-5961
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