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Yemaya (Installation) By Yasmin Hernandez

When enslaved Africans were stolen from their homelands and brought across the Atlantic in chains, they may have never imagined how their faith, resilience, vision, and hope would be transferred to their children in the Americas. From Canada to the Southern tip of South America (yes, Argentina has black folks), African descendants have preserved and maintained the traditions of that long lost madre patria, embracing and celebrating Africa’s gifts to the Americas. Yoruba, Kongo, Dahomey, Mandinga, and other African peoples carried not only their memory of home, but the desire for their children and progeny to see home one day. They carried a share vision, a shared hope.

I'm On My Way (Save a Space for Me) (1995) By Moira Pernambuco

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Today, hundreds of Ifa, Lukumi (commonly known as Santeria), and other African religious practitioners gathered on the shore of New York City’s Far Rockaway Beach to honor that connection to “home”, and celebrate the Yoruba orisha, Yemaya. The divine spirit of the oceans, seas and salt waters- “Mother of Seven”- was fêted with a “drum”, singing, and offerings supplicating her blessings and bounty. Beyond the religious implications and dimensions of this annual celebration, one of the most powerful and significant aspects for me, is the festival’s potential to garner and harness community, unity, collective power and hope across boundaries of race, culture, and class. At least for a day.

Jubilation (1998) By Moira Pernambuco

I think that there is a lesson in this for us all. In the Latino community, we often forget that the concept of latinidad is not void of limitations (political, and otherwise). While the peoples of Latin America in the United States (i.e. Latinos) are certainly bound by geographic, linguistic, and cultural traits, the ethnic and racial diversity of Latinos/Latin Americans is not fully reflected within the lines of latinidad. For African, Indigenous, Asian, Arab, Rom (“gypsy”), and other ethnic and racial groups who fall outside of Euroccentric constructions of latinidad, the term Latino often leaves little room for difference. When it comes to building alliances with “non-Latinos” we are often limited by this narrow vision of who we are.

Throughout my life- and across all areas of my work- expanding or creating space for all of our people’s experiences to be honored, celebrated, and respected, is a priority. Communing with Yemaya today reminded me of why. Observing the humble sea of black, brown, caramel, and yes, latte faces, I was re-affirmed in my belief that vision, values, and respect (above all) frame the perimeters of community.

Standing on the shore of Far Rockaway- a beach I might typically avoid when seduced by the prospect of a bluer, calmer Caribbean Sea- I was inspired by the power of Yemaya to create and strengthen the bonds of community across racial, ethnic, cultural, and economic lines. While there were certainly groups and congregations defined by family or social ties, ultimately, we were all were bound by faith and a collective prayer for peace, unity, progress, and the blessings of the Mother of All. We were in fact, bound by spirit. Maferefun Yemaya! Omi-O!

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