Race/Ethnicity

La Alborada Market brings Mexican food, culture, and history to Minneapolis's Corcoran neighborhood

Mon, 20 May 2013 21:55:12 +0000

Stephanie Fox

Global Groceries

Recently I've enjoyed finding new ethnic markets in the Twin Cities suburbs—but with the price of gasoline spiking, I needed to find an ethnic grocery a little closer to home. I headed up Chicago Avenue toward the Lake Street, then turned east keeping my eyes open for some place interesting. That’s how I ended up at La Alborada Market at the corner of Lake and 19th, a mostly Mexican grocery owned by the Cruz family.

The store was crowded and the parking lot filled—both good signs. Coming here, is seems, is an event for whole families, from little kids to their grandparents. The store is a color festival. It’s painted, inside and out with murals and brightly colored signs. Dozens of piñatas hang from the ceiling. The place is fun.

La Alborada is family-run. It was opened in 2007 by Orlando Cruz, Sr., who already owned Los Gallos money transfer service. Sunday was the older Cruz’s day off, but Orlando Cruz Jr. was there, grabbing a quick lunch from the tiny restaurant that’s part of the store.

Cruz (the son) was born in Mexico City, moving with his family to Minneapolis when he was five years old. The store is a hands-on family business, and except for a short stint working retail at an electronics store, the younger Cruz has become a dedicated businessman, learning the business from his dad.

“My favorite thing about working here is that I get to meet new people every day,” he said. “The meats and the bakery bring customers in. They’re both in-house. We try to keep a little of everything here, but it’s mostly Mexican food.”

The meats include fresh cuts of pork, beef, chickens, and even fresh seafood. You can also get spiced cuts or meat to make Mexican specialties, fresh-made sausages, pig’s feet, and containers of lard. Fresh-baked pastries, sweet and savory, are ready to grab for breakfast or for a quick snack.

You can reach into bins to scoop up your choice of bulk dried beans in canary yellow, black, red, or purple, dried red chili peppers, rice, tamarind pods, and dried white corn. In the produce section are neon orange colored hot and sweet peppers, bright green sprigs of hierbabuens (mint,) limes, guavas, and giant carrots.

Check the freezer for whole banana leaves, frozen red plums, and giant Kool Pops in colors not found in nature. Pick up frozen fruit punch ingredients the next time you make a traditional Mexican ponche de frutas (which can be made with or without alcohol).

While some of the employees speak English, many don’t. Still, they were happy to try to answer my sign language assisted questions. "Is this pepper hot or sweet? [I pretend to bite one and then pant and fan my mouth.]" "Ah! Si! Hot!" The ladies behind the deli counter couldn’t come up with the English word when I pointed to a tray of cooked meat, shaking their heads when I asked, “Pork? Beef?” I made my hands into horns and said, “Meeeeeeh—goat.” They laughed and nodded.

Two very large paintings, one of Mexican revolutionary and working class folk-hero Emiliano Zapata, hang high on the store’s wall. Until last year, a bronze statue of the general, carrying a rifle and wearing an ammunition belt, stood overlooking the store’s restaurant, a gift to the City of Minneapolis from the Mexican state of Morelos. Considered by some Twin Citizens to be too violent for a park, La Alborada gave it a home until the City decided to reclaim it. The statue is now in storage at a public works building a few blocks away. The plan is to move the statue to Plaza Centenario, a public square to be opened sometime this summer.

“A lot of people would come to see it,” said Cruz. “The City told us they were going to put it in a park. But, if they don’t use it, we want it back. It was a big part of our store.”

Even with Zapata gone, groups still come to La Alborada. “Next week a group from General Mills is coming to the store. They come every year but we’re going to try to get them to come in once a month. We may not have Zapata’s statue, but they can enjoy our paintings.”

“A lot of people would come to see it,” said Cruz. “The City told us they were going to put it in a park. But, if they don’t use it, we want it back. It was a big part of our store.”

Minneapolis school superintendent Bernadeia Johnson meets Latino parents from Green Central Park school

Sun, 19 May 2013 13:13:16 +0000

Sheila Regan

TC Daily Planet

When Mayela de la Rosa Cardenas invited me to a meeting between Latino parents at Green Central and Minneapolis Public School Superintendent Bernadeia Johnson, I accepted without hesitation. Since I last wrote about the Green Central controversy, I’ve heard from more people, which has confused as much as it has clarified. I’ve spoken to Maryann Robinson, the African American parent who initially complained about Salas to the school board last year, and to another African American parent who disagrees with Robinson, and I've received a long email from a teacher who left Green Central at the end of the 2011-12 year and has nothing good to say about Salas.

So, with my head full of questions, I went over to Cardenas’s home on the afternoon of May 15. I asked Cardenas what she hoped for the meeting.

“I want them to bring Catalina back,” she said. That's Catalina Salas, the Green Central principal who was placed on leave of absence on April 25.

In Cardenas’s living room, the other Latino parents told Johnson that they believed they were being ignored, and had suffered racism, and that Salas should be brought back.

“Catalina was taken away from us because of racism. It’s clear who started this whole problem,” said Dulce de la Rosa Cardenas, Mayela’s sister. “It was Maryann Robinson.”

Robinson enlisted the help of the Minnesota Association of Black School Educators, who visited the school several times At a site council meeting in February, the president of MABSE said that there were allegations that Salas acted “like Hitler”.

Robinson's complaint about Title I

Maryann Robinson has nothing good to say about the Developmental Dual Language (DDL) program that Minneapolis Public Schools (MPS) implemented at Green Central last year. Among her grievances is her belief that school resources, including Title I money, was disproportionately going to Latino students and not benefitting students of other races at the school.

In a letter to Salas on March 7, Robinson wrote:

"At Richard Green Central and I have seen, and I have been told by staff that children are segregated by ethnicity at Richard Green Central Community School and I am asked by other children why are they separated? I have looked at the title one budget and it shows that the children of Mexican, Ecuadorian, Niquraguan, and other South American groups are the only children receiving title1 services for English Learning classes for 70% of the day at Richard Green Central Community School."

According to Alondra Cano, an MPS Senior Communications and Public Affairs Specialist (and a candidate for city council), DDL teachers are classroom teachers, and paid for with the same funding used for other classroom teachers.

“The Green Central Title I budget shows that Title I was used to cover a social worker position, classroom teacher/counselor positions, and Associate Educator positions," said Cano. "They also used some Title I funds for professional development. ELL positions were funded with ELL funds and general funds. The DDL program is not taking away from supports provided through Title I.”

The Latino parents are upset about being insulted by the members of MABSE and Maryann Robinson, and insist they were misled by Area C Superintendent Theresa Battle.

Johnson distanced herself from MABSE, and said she understood that there was a growing sense of distrust of the district.

Johnson said that she has never spoken with an African American parent from the school. She told the parents that the decision to transfer Salas didn’t have to do with racism. “No one person can influence me to remove a teacher,” she said.

She said she’s been impressed with the Developmental Dual Language (DDL) program model, but there were concerns that the program was rolled out too quickly. Instead of beginning just with kindergarten, and adding a grade each year, she said, Salas initiated the program in grades K-3, before there was “buy-in” from the teachers, and before the school was equipped with the bilingual teachers capable of teaching in the format. [See What is Developmental Dual Language? for description of program]

Johnson said she hoped the parents would become involved with the selection of the new principal, a process that has not always employed input from community members.

The parents said they were so upset with what has happened, that they didn’t want to be involved with selecting a new principal, and renewed their complaint that Salas’s transfer was because of racism.

“I don’t believe it was a racist act,” Johnson said. “Because of the behaviors of people in the community, I can see how you can think that. I am not in cahoots with [MABSE]. I’m sensitive to how you feel, but I can’t accept the accusation that I’m racist because of someone else’s racist behavior.”

Johnson said that she's had a learning curve, and that she hasn’t always assigned interviewing teams that drew participants from the community. At the same time, she said, “I don’t want to over-promise. That’s not fair.”

The parents expressed frustration that so much of the work they had put into the PTO had been lost due to the controversy. Yard sales, for example, and a discussion about implementing school uniforms had been overshadowed.

“I thank you for still doing things right for your school,” Johnson said.

To which Dulce Cardenas replied, “I will do whatever I can. I’m doing this for my son.”

The end of the meeting involved a discussion about missing PTO funds. Johnson said she was unaware of the problem but would look into it.

So, with my head full of questions, I went over to Cardenas’s home on the afternoon of May 15. I asked Cardenas what she hoped for the meeting.

“I want them to bring Catalina back,” she said. That's Catalina Salas, the Green Central principal who was placed on leave of absence on April 25.

In Cardenas’s living room, the other Latino parents told Johnson that they believed they were being ignored, and had suffered racism, and that Salas should be brought back.

“Catalina was taken away from us because of racism. It’s clear who started this whole problem,” said Dulce de la Rosa Cardenas, Mayela’s sister. “It was Maryann Robinson.”

Robinson's complaint about Title I

In a letter to Salas on March 7, Robinson wrote:

The Latino parents are upset about being insulted by the members of MABSE and Maryann Robinson, and insist they were misled by Area C Superintendent Theresa Battle.

Johnson distanced herself from MABSE, and said she understood that there was a growing sense of distrust of the district.

Johnson said she hoped the parents would become involved with the selection of the new principal, a process that has not always employed input from community members.

“I thank you for still doing things right for your school,” Johnson said.

To which Dulce Cardenas replied, “I will do whatever I can. I’m doing this for my son.”

The end of the meeting involved a discussion about missing PTO funds. Johnson said she was unaware of the problem but would look into it.

Related stories:

Ordered out, invited in

Sun, 19 May 2013 13:12:14 +0000

Sheila Regan

Behind the Story

I've attended a number of meetings at schools, but I've only been told to leave one. That was the May 2 site council meeting for Green Central Park school, when I was told to leave by Minneapolis Public Schools (MPS) Associate Superintendent Theresa Battle.

I’d been invited to attend the meeting by Sadonia Myers, an African American parent who was not part of the group demanding that Principal Catalina Salas be ousted. I was taking a couple of photos when Battle pulled me aside and asked me if I had gotten permission from Stan Alleyne, the district’s communications director, to attend the meeting. She told me that it was not a public meeting. Reluctantly, I left.

A few weeks later, Mayela de la Rosa Cardenas, a Latina mother at Green Central texted me on Wednesday, May 15 with an invitation to another meeting. She and a group of parents were meeting with MPS Superintendent Bernadeia Johnson that afternoon at 4 o’clock, at Cardenas’ home, and would I please come? Of course I would.

So, with my head full of questions, I went over to Cardenas’s home, where I had been twice before. The family recognized me from my previous visits, and offered me one of the many Sprites on the table, next to a whole spread of food from La Loma. The food, she explained, was sent to her home from the school district. I spoke with Cardenas and a man named Eduardo Clara Zaragoza, and asked Cardenas what she hoped for the meeting.

“I want them to bring Catalina back,” she said, referring to Green Central principal Catalina Salas, who was placed on leave of absence after a tumultuous few months. Cardenas is part of a large group of Latino parents who defended Salas and the Developmental Dual Language (DDL) program from attacks led by African American parent Maryann Robinson.

I chatted with the family for nearly an hour before Superintendent Johnson arrived with Community Engagement coordinator Ruben Vasquez. Johnson was self-deprecating about her lack of Spanish skills, and Cardenas, Zaragoza, Vasquez, Johnson and myself exchanged pleasantries, through Vasquez’s translations. After a few awkward pauses, Vasquez suggested we have some food, and finally four other Latino mothers arrived.

The parents began by saying many of the things they’ve been saying at the past meetings at Green Central. They insisted that Salas's removal was due to racism. Johnson said that was not the case.

The parents weren't backing down, and it got pretty tense, and that's when Johnson stood up, and went over to one of the mothers, who was holding a child. Johnson asked if she could hold the baby. Suddenly the mood lightened.

The discussion continued, with both Johnson and the parents standing their ground, but seeming more able to hear one another.

I have to say, I was pretty impressed by Johnson’s skill at reaching out to these parents. She said her reasoning for coming to them, rather than meeting them at the school, was so that it was on a more neutral ground. Indeed, at a previous meeting, Cardenas had said that some of the parents refused to come to school meetings because they were so frustrated with how they had been treated. Johnson came, brought food (so much food that all of the parents took some home with them), and really put on the charm with them, highlighting their shared interest of finding what is best for their kids. She was firm, and defended herself, but always in a way that was rather humble.

Now, I don't think this meeting was the end of the conflict, but I do think it was a first step toward resolution. Parents want to be heard, and when they feel like their opinions don't matter, they either raise a ruckus or stop being involved altogether. I wonder if more engagement happened on different communities' "turf," more of an actual dialogue could happen.

The parents began by saying many of the things they’ve been saying at the past meetings at Green Central. They insisted that Salas's removal was due to racism. Johnson said that was not the case.

The discussion continued, with both Johnson and the parents standing their ground, but seeming more able to hear one another.

Related stories:

Screaming On. Reflections on Lao American Horror Poetry

Sat, 18 May 2013 01:32:09 +0000

Bryan Thao Worra

As I prepare for the release of my next book, DEMONSTRA, this year, some ask why much of my poetic work is centered on horror, compared to other writers who escaped the Southeast Asian civil wars of the 20th century. Many use their poetry for memoir, typically to wax loftily about pursuing the American Dream and the Old Country, tragedies of war and loss, love, desire and the human comedy. This has its place, but it's not the only place we should linger.

Formally speaking, Lao poetry stretches back at least to the 1300s including many epics, such as the tale of Phra Lak Phra Lam, a Lao iteration of the Ramayana. Our folklore traditions are filled with stories of spirits, weretigers, titanic magic serpent kings, shape-shifting giants, and the like. But truly terrifying Lao horror poetry, as we might recognize horror poetry in the 20th and 21st century, is still almost non-existent after 600+ years.

Instead, good invariably triumphs over evil in the works most of our community preserves.

But, without horror poetry, those happy endings lull us into taking the triumph of good for granted. It promotes an unhealthy sense of fatalism and destiny. Horror poetry makes you double-check that assumption.

A lack of horror literature, especially poetry, builds dead ends for a society. A stagnating culture where only 'good trumps evil' destroys possibility. It strangles surprise. It constructs a body of literature composed only of the expected and the safe.

With monotone, predictable endings, the roads to the last page of any literary work may be prettier or rougher, longer or shorter, but it is still the same destination. Our audiences would have no incentive to wonder, to anticipate, and ultimately, to return to Lao writing with any meaningful sense of curiosity.

In my view, when curiosity dies, so does the culture.

Every language should strive to convey their culture's range of emotions well. When a tale is joyous, it should be delightfully joyous. If we need to tell a ghost story, let it fill a soul with a new understanding of terror that echoes across generations.

A culture benefits developing a robust tradition of horror poetry. Done well, it is a hallmark of a vibrant modern society's expressive capacity. A writer constantly pushes themselves to explore and discover what is truly unspeakable. What is there truly no art, no word for? And in understanding this, we gain an understanding of the world, word by word, inch by inch, line by line.

We grow stronger as a people when we can imagine encounters with the strange and alien, and remain firm in our own values and identity. Cultures that cannot? They wither and go into the grave.

As we've seen in the United States, Europe, Japan and elsewhere, well-written horror can be an effective way to explore the values of a culture. Like the grand trickster traditions, horror challenges our sense of ordered propriety and shakes us out of our sense of certainties.

Good horror poetry helps us avert a road of extremes, demonstrating what happens when something goes too far, or gets too forgotten. Horror poetry teaches us to recognize unfounded and irrational fears. It reduces stress and anxieties, often showing us worst-case scenarios so extreme that our present-day concerns seem petty in comparison: "I've got a big workload ahead, but at least I'm not trapped in my apartment during a zombie apocalypse while giant atomic lizards are rampaging across Cannibal Island."

Or, per Jay-Z, "I've got 99 problems but being bit isn't one of them."

At the present moment, the biggest gap in Lao poetry around the world is the poetry of the imaginative.

We have de facto hallmark cards aplenty, raps of the hard times, and superficial songs of beautiful men and women.

But when was the last time you saw something by Lao writers to consider next to the enduring work of Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Jorge Luis Borges, or Isaac Asimov? That is tragically still a vast frontier for us even 40 years after war's end. Where are our dreams for the future?

Considering all of the horrors that the Lao community has endured during the 20th and 21st century, I think there's a great deal to learn from what we now understand to be truly terrifying. What is our concept of evil, of chaos now? What do we now truly consider corrosive and corrupt? What are true threats to what we value most?

Do we dare make art from the horrors of our experience? Or just hold it within? I fear the consequences of silence.

We see Picasso's "Guernica" or Spielberg's "Schindler's List," the dystopias of "Planet of the Apes," or "Dawn of the Dead," where we have a chance to critique the worst within humanity. In "Pan's Labyrinth" the elements of horror augment a critique of fascist Spain. In Carolyn Forche's poem "The Colonel," we address horrors in El Salvador. Societies take many different routes to confront traumas of their history. How do we approach ours?

To date, those of us with the most freedom and latitude to express our inner and collective history have barely uttered a word. Figuratively speaking, we can see the demons of that choice of silence consuming our future.

Horror poetry and art, like any art form, is not the only solution. But it is part of the process. So, scream on.

Bryan Thao Worra on TCDP

Question Bridge at Juxtaposition Arts: Creating more complex and whole narratives of Black men

Brenda Bell Brown and Yvette Howie — Fri, 17 May 2013 19:55:16 +0000

KFAI Radio

A new exhibit at Juxtaposition Arts in Minneapolis is called “Question Bridge – Black Males.” It’s a video installation that threads together fifteen hundred conversations with Black men across the United States in an attempt to create more complex, multi-faceted, and whole images and narratives of Black males.

Roger Cummings is the Juxtaposition Arts Artistic Director. Nate Young is a multi-media artist and Juxtaposition’s Gallery and Contemporary Art Director, and Chris Johnson is one of the creators of Question Bridge. They visited KFAI's Morning Blend to talk with Brenda Bell Brown and Yvette Howie. [Audio below]

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Pondering Lao American Speculative Dance

Thu, 16 May 2013 19:28:30 +0000

Bryan Thao Worra

In the aftermath of my exhibit and presentations during the Beyond the Other Side of the Eye Exhibit in February in Minneapolis, one concept that has been lingering with me that I haven't had a chance to discuss at length yet is a theoretical set of additions to the traditional Lao dance repertoire: Lao American Speculative Dance. Dance of the imagination.

One Lao community member I spoke with said we would run into friction because we have enough of a hard time getting Lao to learn traditional Lao dance, or Lao audiences to pay attention to the existing repertoire as it 'fades' into the sunset.

But people have been saying that about ballet, ballroom, tango, and the cha-cha-cha for almost a century. If we treat formal Lao dance as something that cannot be expanded upon, then Lao dance has encountered a dead end, and over time the rot will spread across the beautiful face of Lao culture.

Traditional Lao dance will not appeal to everyone, just as not all forms of music appeal to all people. After all, some hate Rap and love Death Metal, others like Zydeco over New Wave, others prefer Pop to New Age. There's tremendous variety and options. Viva la difference.

As Lao, we have historically been able to embrace many different forms of the arts while still transmitting the core ideals of our culture. Over time, our culture and heritage will support some forms more than others, but we can do what we can to keep the most meaningful of these alive.

I would not ask anyone to support all of the arts equally, any more than I would ask a sports fan to support all sports teams equally. But I hope you would at least find two or three forms in your life that you support with great passion, and respect the others.

Even as we engage in preservation of tradition, there is always room to evolve and innovate, or to expand upon the repertoire. To me, that's the heart of preserving a tradition.

Lao education must not be centered solely on rote memorization and repetition but curious encounter, contemplative appreciation, and bold innovation. We must not have water for blood, or we will not see the Golden Age of Lao thought emerge.

If we don't demonstrate to Lao youth and dancers of the possibilities within Lao arts, and give ourselves freedom to innovate properly, we'll one day have generations that considers the tongue-in-cheek hip-hop song "Teach You How to Fawn" a serious addition to our dance and musical repertoire.

A great hallmark of Lao arts has been the infusion of humor and a fluid, gentle grace to our work. When we wanted to express grand ideals and calls for peacefulness and the search for wisdom, even in the simplest, minimalist settings it was amazing. When the art called for bawdy energy or slapstick, you could have audiences rolling in the aisles without it being a South Park episode. I'd hate to see us get away from that.

But we've seen Lao dance assaulted from two ends: joyless instructors who make it seem like traditional Lao dance must be presented with a thorny stick up its behind, or swaggering thugs full of hype and flair, but nothing meaningful at the core, masters of the Fon Douchebag.

Lao American Speculative Dance could be one bold direction this innovation takes to revitalize our form for the next centuries ahead.

It would encourage a new direction for Lao youth and the next generation of Lao choreographers. Lao American Speculative Dance is centered on the question: Where are our dances of the futuristic and the fantastic? Where are the dances that confront the present and our concerns, from UXO to overcoming the terrors of poverty, the traumas of PTSD, the struggles to adapt to new cultures while preserving our own heritage?

I reject the idea these are unreasonable questions.

One might turn to the dances of Ananya Dance Theater of Minnesota, a company of women artists, primarily of color, who work to create intersections of artistic excellence and social justice. Inspired by the commitment and passion that infuse women’s movements worldwide, these dancers create original dance theater that reflects women’s lives.

One of the key outcomes is fostering strong communities, addressing social-justice issues, conveying power, and creating beauty. Centered in traditional South Asian dance forms often mixed with a sense of the mythic and imaginative, it obliges me to suggest Lao dance, too, can confront such issues, IF we took the kid gloves off.

The UC Irvine Bare Bones Dance Theater presented this Filipino artist's interpretation of the UXO issue in Laos, a 5-minute dance that sought, through a series of movements, to convey the horrors of the bombing, the attempt to resume life as farmers, but the consequences of lingering UXO.

But I really don't think that can or should be the last word in how we address this subject through an art form such as dance. I think this is a very intriguing dance, but the fact that we ourselves did not develop an artistic response to it first shows to me a critical blind spot emerging in our capacity for artistic expression.

Nationally, it is my hope that Binly Krisada, a dancer and poet in California, the Royal Lao Classical Dancers of Tennessee, and the Kinnaly Dance troupe in Washington will in particular take note and consider where we have opportunities to push the limits of the possible. In Minnesota we have several sets of teachers who've worked on the traditional dances and youth who, through participation in the Lao Student Association at the University of Minnesota, have been dancing more actively in public to highlight our heritage and social concerns.

But do we have the local infrastructure to let them take their dance to the next level?

Who else might be in a position to explore this possibility, where they have a good balance of community support, vision, and resources to develop new work?

When I initially suggested performances centered on the idea of Lao American Speculative Dance, I naturally received quite a few laughs, but so much is already in place.

If a typical dance performance runs 60 to 90 minutes, the traditional dances that would be included in a Lao American Speculative Dance would include the Fon Ling, or Monkey Dance; the Fon Manola, a dance of the Kinnaly princess; the Fon Kinnaly; the Monkey and the Mermaid dance inspired by the epic Phra Lak Phra Lam; and the Fon Nyak, or the dance of the giant Rakshasas.

If these alone were presented, it's a half-hour show. What other dances might be developed to make a full evening of it?

What might the Fon Nyakinee look like? Would it be a nod to the Nyakinee who vow to protect the teachings of the Buddha at the gathering at Vulture Peak? Or would it interpret the dark story of Phra Rod Meri, which told of a Nyakinee and her daughter who usurped a kingdom and turned the king's wives into blind cannibals?

Perhaps others would prefer an adaptation the epic romance of Phadaeng Nang Ai or the tale of the Toad King. Perhaps the Fon Gop could be the long-needed interpretative dance of our tradition of Gop Kin Deuane, the frog eating the moon.

What might the Fon Bombies look like? Would it look like the dance at UC Irvine, or would it place it into the context of the 600 year history of Laos and the many other wars that have left so many Lao in diaspora? Between the troupes in Washington, California, the Midwest, Tennessee, and the East Coast, there are at least five groups who have been involved enough with the issue who could present fascinating responses.

Would the Fon Phi Dip or Fon Phi Zom look like the Indian Thriller? Or take a more imaginative direction drawn from the far corners of Lao imagination?

There are references to the Fon Nak, but it seems very rarely presented. The Fon Nakinee or Nakanya, would most likely be a nod to the 8-year old daughter of the Phya Nak who presented a pearl to the Buddha then demonstrated that even women can achieve enlightenment.

The Fon Ya Wom might interpret the legend of the young orphan girls pursued by an elderly forest spirit who wants to eat them who chases them all of the way to the heavens. Because of the final outcome of this chase, such a dance might be hard to present, but an intriguing challenge. It might be easier to do the Fon Phi Kongkoi, but that might terrify too many audiences outright.

What might the Fon Laomerica 3000 look like? How might it suggest a distant future? Would it look like Steam Powered Giraffe below?

What might we see with the Fon Xieng Mieng? Might that be as fun as this dance for the African trickster folk hero of Anansi the Spider suggested by J'adore Dance? The Fon Sin Xay could also have many intriguing iterations, providing an interesting challenge for male dancers who want to examine the themes of brotherhood, honor, loyalty and love.

A meaningful, earnest approach to exploring the many possibilities of the Lao imagination and contemporary social issues would have many side benefits beyond entertainment in our community. It would give many Lao vendors and traditional artisans economic opportunities. It would encourage more use of local arts spaces in the community, more research with our archives and among our wisdom-holders.

Lao American Speculative Dance, or any well-managed Lao dance program, would provide our youth an alternative to gang involvement, and allow them to grow healthy bodies, healthy minds and spirits, and positive intergenerational and intercultural relationships. Involvement with an energized and innovating Lao dance program would give our students study skills and key communication skills that will help them in their professional, academic and civic lives.

I hope in the future we will give this some serious consideration and give ourselves the freedom to hold on to our traditions and add our own voices, and feet, to this wondrous road and stage.

Bryan Thao Worra on TCDP

Mom, student, tireless community voice: A profile of Chanida Phaengdara Potter

Jeff Achen — Thu, 16 May 2013 18:47:07 +0000

The Uptake

It’s 3 p.m. and it’s New Year’s Day, 2556 –- in Lao culture. On this pleasant April Saturday, Lao community members are filing into the gymnasium at the Crystal Community Center — the men in crisp grey and black suits and the women in heels and shimmering dresses.

One of the young women at the door takes donations to the Lao Assistance Center. She’s quiet, unassuming and smiling from ear-to-ear. She’s Chanida Phaengdara Potter and most people wouldn’t know by looking at her that she’s one of the most active and promising young Lao community leaders in the room.

“She does so much,” Immigration Attorney Loddy Tolzmann says. “She’s a full-time mom, she’s going to school, but above and beyond that, you don’t hear about that part of her life. You hear about all the work she’s doing in the community.”

Potter is a program assistant in the research, education and advocacy program at The Advocates for Human Rights in Minneapolis and a development consultant with the Lao Assistance Center of Minnesota. She serves on the advisory committee for the Center for Health Equity at the University of Minnesota and on the advisory board for Wilder Foundation Research. She founded and runs the Lao Professional Network Facebook group and started a local chapter of Lao professionals to share resources, knowledge and drive community engagement.

“She’s always serving the Lao community,” Tolzmann says.

It’s characteristic of the best leaders, Tolzmann says, to operate behind the scenes and lead with their hearts.

“Leaders, they make change. They like to disrupt the normal flow of things, but they do it in a way that they earn peoples’ respect, and through their passion,” Tolzmann says. “Chanida does it in a way that is truly amazing. She does it in her subtle, sweet, quiet way.”

According to the 2010 Census, there are about 12,000 Laotian-Americans in Minnesota.

Potter organized the first Minnesota celebration of the Lao New Year last year and has led or played a significant role in a number of other efforts, including the Voices from Laos speakers tour and“Little Laos on the Prairie,” a blog she and others use as a platform for “telling our stories, sharing our history and our love and fascination of pop culture, community, and news that connect the diaspora communities in the Midwest back to the Mekong memories of Southeast Asia.”

Potter is a vocal proponent of Lao issues and culture on social media, a skill set that has earned her the job of running the social media initiatives of the Advocates for Human Rights.

Potter says her advocacy, involvement and activism is aimed at giving the Lao community a voice in Minnesota with respect to access to housing and affordable health care and immigration reform. She says the Lao have come from a war-torn country that didn’t allow the people to have a voice in their government. Speaking up for themselves and taking a seat at the table with other community representatives is something the Lao here have had to learn and Potter is teaching it and modeling it for others.

“She’s thinking more big picture than anybody else,” Lao Assistance Center Executive Director Sunny Chanthanouvong says. “She focuses on (asking) the, ‘What is the big outcome, what is the big benefit for our community?’ ”

Uptake Editor’s Note: This is the seventh in a continuing series of UpTake profiles on men and women whose names may not be widely familiar but whose leadership makes our neighborhoods, our cities and our states better places. — Nick Coleman, Executive Editor (nick [dot] coleman [at] theuptake [dot] org)

“She’s always serving the Lao community,” Tolzmann says.

It’s characteristic of the best leaders, Tolzmann says, to operate behind the scenes and lead with their hearts.

According to the 2010 Census, there are about 12,000 Laotian-Americans in Minnesota.

Potter is a vocal proponent of Lao issues and culture on social media, a skill set that has earned her the job of running the social media initiatives of the Advocates for Human Rights.

Obesity, high blood pressure and stress among the challenges facing Filipino Americans in Minnesota

Thu, 16 May 2013 18:18:51 +0000

RaizaBeltran

In the last decade, the Filipino American community in Minnesota grew 61 percent – more than doubling its population from 6,200 to 15,600.[i] During that time, Filipino Americans prospered in the state with the lowest unemployment rate among all ethnic groups at 4.1 percent and a higher than average household income of $66,000. While the Filipino American community is perceived to be healthier compared to other immigrant groups due to its relative ease in speaking English and a familiarity with the western culture, community members indicated that there are many in the community, particularly the newly arrived Filipino immigrants, who are struggling.

Right: Filipino American Cultural Dancers (Photo credit: Pan Asian American Alliance)

This is the first in a series of articles examining the health and wellbeing of Asian Americans in Minnesota based on the information collected by the Asian Pacific American Community Network (APA ComMNet), a collaboration led by Asian Media Access (AMA), through a grant from the National REACH Coalition (NRC) and the Center for Disease Control (CDC).

Hard Work and Isolation

In the spring of 2012, APA ComMNet invited prominent Filipino American leaders to discuss the health issues affecting their community. The discussion was recorded as a radio show and broadcasted on Radio ASIA (106.1 HD Radio). Lita Malicsi a member of APA ComMNet and the former president of the Fil-Minnesotan Association (FMA), one of the largest Filipino American community organizations in the state, was the radio show host. During the show, Filipino American guests identified extended work hours as an issue that impacted the health of the community and shared the main reason for why Filipino Americans worked long hours at their jobs. “Even if you are living in the U.S. you are still tied to the Philippines, especially when you have families back home that are living in hardship. We [Filipinos] here in Minnesota, we work hard so we can help them,” said Addi Batica, a Filipino activist who works at the Minnesota Department of Transportation (MNDot).

Left: Filipino American leaders discussing community health issues during Radio ASIA 106.1 HD radio show.

Filipino community radio show guests also commented that they noticed many Filipino Americans, especially newly arrived immigrants, suffering from loneliness and isolation. “Filipinos get depressed because they want to work hard but they get so tired, and sometimes they work so they want to forget that they are sad here. Long distance was a big issue when I first arrived here. I spent more in long distance calls than what I spent to eat,” said radio guest Darwin Yasis who recently presided over FMA and currently works at MNDoT.

Depression and Chronic Diseases

Winnona Palo, a registered nurse, indicated during the radio show that the depressive symptoms experienced by Filipino Americans might exacerbate their current health conditions. “When they think they are just depressed, they don’t have an interest to visit a doctor. Then they won’t realize that they already have high blood pressure, diabetes etc,” Palo said. “That’s why when we don’t treat hypertension, diabetes, cholesterol, then it will lead to stroke, heart attack and even death,” added Dr. Ligaya Carlos, a Filipino American medical doctor who was also a guest during the Filipino community radio show.

High blood pressure, also known as hypertension, diabetes and obesity were found to be prevalent in the Filipino American community. In a two-year health study conducted by APA ComMNet of 94 Filipino Minnesotans, survey results show that over a third had high blood pressure and about one in four were diagnosed with diabetes (see figure 1).

Figure 1: Percentage of Filipino Americans Diagnosed with Select Chronic Diseases

Like the rest of the country, obesity and overweight is increasing in the Filipino American community. Survey results show that about half of Filipino Americans, ages 18 years old and above, were overweight or obese using a body mass index (BMI) measure developed by the Joslin Diabetes Center’s Asian American Diabetes Initiative, a research center affiliated with Harvard University[ii] (see Figure 2).

Left: Figure 2: BMI Distribution in the Filipino American Community

Despite the increasing health problems affecting the Filipino American community, a majority indicated that they were in good or very good health. Nearly three out of four Filipino Americans surveyed stated that they were in good, very good or excellent health (see figure 3). Many Filipino Americans in Minnesota also visited the doctor regularly with only a quarter of those surveyed indicating that they had not seen a doctor in past year.

Affordable Prescription Medicine and the Lack of Transportation

While many in the Filipino American community may feel well and visit their doctor at least once a year, radio show guests pointed to certain environmental and social conditions that continue to affect their community’s health and wellbeing. Darwin Yasis said that newly arrived Filipino immigrants often do not access community and public resources due to the lack of public transportation. “In the Philippines, you can use a pedicab, a taxi, a jeepney, you can use different types of public transportation. Unlike here, you have to know the bus schedules,” said Yasis. Registered nurse Winonna Palo agreed. “I didn’t know how to drive and I had young children and couldn’t go to a clinic to visit a doctor,” said Palo. Palo added that most new immigrants must familiarize themselves with American roads and driving customs before taking the test to get a driver’s license.

Right: Figure 3: Filipino Americans’ Perceived Health Status

The physical and mental health of elderly Filipino Americans was also a primary concern for radio show guests. The cost of prescription medication, in particular, appeared to be a problem. “Aging Filipinos, those who can get medicine, they will half the tablet so they can extend the use of the medicine even if it’s not suggested by the doctor. That’s why we need to lower the cost of medicine, its important,” said Palo. Radio show host Lita Malicsi recalled a situation in which her friend was prescribed medicine that cost more than $200. Because her friend didn’t know about generic prescription brands that cost lower than regular prescription medicine, Malicsi’s friend did not buy the medicine that she needed.

Communication is Key

During the radio show, Filipino Americans stressed the importance of communicating important health information to community members, especially to those who may be isolated or are may be too busy. “It’s the seniors who don’t use the internet, family members who work too much, those who can’t connect with others, they need to know about [low cost] prescription medicine, and other health information,” said Palo. Guests of the show agreed that interpersonal communication and using various media forms to share health information, including the APA ComMNet radio show project, is needed in the Filipino American community. “It’s a cycle of misinformation, if we know about the physical and mental health issues and communicate it to our community, then we can break the cycle,” added Dr. Carlos.

To learn more about the REACH CORE Project or the AAPI Community Health Assessments conducted by APA ComMNet, please contact Raiza Beltran at raiza [dot] beltran [at] amamedia [dot] org.

[i] Council of Asian-Pacific Minnesotans (CAPMN). 2012. The State of Asian Pacific Minnesotans: 2010 Census and 2008-2010 American Community Survey Report. St. Paul, MN. Published by the Council of Asian Pacific Minnesotans.

[ii] Joslin Diabetes Center – Asian American Diabetes Initiative (http://aadi.joslin.org/).

Bicultural Healthy Living

Minnesota honors civil rights legend: Juanita Jackson Mitchell helped reestablish Twin Cities NAACP branches

Thu, 16 May 2013 17:32:36 +0000

Charles Hallman

Minnesota Spokesman-Recorder

Juanita Jackson Mitchell (1913-1992) only lived in St. Paul for four years, but her impact during that stint laid an eventual path to many firsts in Minnesota. The Juanita Jackson Mitchell Crusader for Freedom Exhibit, a compilation of Mitchell’s personal photographs and other artifacts, was on display at the State Capitol May 8-14.

It is a traveling exhibit on loan from Roland Park Country School in Baltimore, Maryland, where it was established in 1995, three years after her death in 1992 of heart failure at age 79. “This exhibit [is] about her life,” Minnesota State General Counsel Micah Hines told the MSR prior to the May 8 opening program and tour. Mitchell is her grandmother.

Right: Juanita Jackson Mitchell (Photo courtesy of Micah Hines)

The Baltimore Afro-American once called Mitchell, who was born in Hot Springs, Arkansas in 1913 and later grew up in Baltimore, “the matriarch of one of Baltimore’s oldest civil rights families.” She was the first Black woman to attend the University of Maryland Law School as well as the first Black woman to practice law in Maryland after her admittance in 1950.

Two decades earlier she cofounded the Baltimore Citywide Young People’s Forum in 1931 that helped find jobs for Blacks during the Depression. She was special assistant to NAACP National Secretary Walter White in 1936, and was the organization’s first youth and college division national director.

Juanita Mitchell, by then married, came to the Twin Cities in 1937. She traveled the state speaking on race relations, anti-lynching efforts and integration, and helped revived the then-dormant Minneapolis and St. Paul branches of the NAACP.

“Both branches had been inactive for about five years” before Michell arrived in the Twin Cities, learned Hines. “She worked with Lena O. Smith, the first Black lawyer in Minnesota to revive the branches. The exhibit talks a lot about her connections, her life, and the Civil Rights Movement.”

The Mitchells then moved back to Maryland in 1941, where Juanita continued her “freedom fighter” work for the next five decades.

Hines called the exhibit “not just our Black history, but I see it as Minnesota history, and we celebrate that collective history and the progress we’ve made together. It tells our story in the way that it actually reflects what happened. A lot of people try to diminish the gains [Black] people actually made. We have to tell that story and tell it accurately.”

Dr. Josie Johnson reiterated this last week during her remarks at the Capitol.

Left: Supreme Court Justice Alan Page (r) with Michael Mitchell (Photos by Charles Hallman)

“Our youth need to hear the stories in their role in the struggle,” she noted. “They need to know about Miss Juanita Jackson” and her work as a young adult, all before Jackson was 22 years old. Johnson reminded the audience that today’s Black youth “need to know their worth and value” and can look at Mitchell’s legacy as a prime example.

Mitchell was a civil rights pioneer, said Minnesota Gov. Mark Dayton during his remarks.

Michael Mitchell, Juanita Jackson Mitchell’s second-oldest son, said his mother entered law school when he was nine months old. “My earliest recollection of babysitters was old bald-headed White men in black robes as she would park me in chambers as she would go” argue cases in court, he pointed out. “She led a picket line arm-and-arm with Paul Robeson,” he said proudly.

Mitchell had “an unbroken spirit as she fought for freedom and equality and inspired everyday people,” added recently-named Minnesota Supreme Court Associate Justice Wilhelmina Wright, the first Black woman on the state’s high court. Both Wright and fellow Minnesota Supreme Court Justice Alan Page later told the MSR that they both are indebted to Mitchell’s work, especially after they learned about the legendary woman.

“It’s the work of Juanita Jackson Mitchell and all those she worked with that lift up those of us who are following after her,” said Page. “Without those who had done that lifting, we would be in far worse shape than we are today.”

“I’ve known about the [Mitchell] family for so long and their leadership,” added Wright.

“She was one of those pre-1950s and 1960s freedom fighters that you never hear about and goes unnoticed,” noted St. Paul NAACP President Jeffry Martin on Mitchell. “She opened public accommodations, de-segregated schools and exposed police brutality.”

“The reason why I became a lawyer was because of their influence,” said Hines of her grandparents. “My grandfather [Clarence Mitchell] became the very first director of the St. Paul Urban League and was very good friends with Cecil Newman [the founder of the MSR]. They were of the old school where lawyers were agents and engineers of social change.”

Michael Mitchell afterwards told the MSR that he realized as a youngster his mother’s soon-to-be-historic importance “at the moment Thurgood Marshall and Langston Hughes came into our house to have dinner,” he recalled. “She said God expects you to get up and stand up erect and fight for your people, and you have a responsibility to give back to people.

“You couldn’t help it if you were in our household — you were on a picket line or helping to do things,” said Mitchell.

“I am delighted that the exhibit was brought here so we can learn from it. We have to carry on that legacy,” concluded Wright.

Information from the Maryland State Archives contributed to this article.

Charles Hallman welcomes reader responses to challman [at] spokeszman-recorder [dot] com.