Brown… is the new Black

Brown… is the new Black

Over the last several weeks I’ve joked with my co-hosts, Liza Marie and Steve “Trig” Cancino, on our radio show (Rebel Radio) about the fact that I’m often mistaken for being more Italian, than Puerto Rican.

With my pale complexion, spiky hair – ala MTV’s Jersey Shore – and “fuggedaboutit” accent, I’ve been asked about my Guido affiliations on many occasions. And while it’s something I laugh about, it’s not something I purposely set out to carry as a badge of honor. The truth is I’m proud of my Latino heritage and all of its rich cultura and history.

And although the verdict is out on how much of my family comes from the Canary Islands by way of my mother’s ancestry, the Betancourt’s. And just how much of my birth fathers (Sanchez) ancestry comes from Puerto Rico, I know in my heart and soul that I carry more of the Taino spirit in me than the conquistador spirit coming out of Arizona over the last few months.

To divide and conquer: It’s as if a few lawmakers in Arizona have found a way to play a modern day version of cowboys and Indians.

The cowboys are people like Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio, first introduced to us by Soledad O’Brian in her Latino in America series – To bad Arpaio didn’t catch our attention back then. We were to busy crying about how Soledad didn’t feature enough Latino Harvard graduates to pay attention to the overtly racist town and it’s policies, now laws, that she was trying to enlighten us about.

But we really should’ve been paying attention to Arpaio, who is now being investigated for many civil rights violations.

In regards to being an unapologetic racist, Arpaio comes second only to his white supremacist buddy and lawmaker, Russell Pearce, who actually wrote the controversial SB1070 bill just passed into law in Arizona.

Cowboy number two – Pearce has made no excuses for his revulsion of Mexicans, Blacks, Israelis and even Jews and was temporarily looked down upon in 2006 for forwarding an email to his supporters by way of the neo-Nazi National Alliance.

Luckily for him, being a racist in Arizona is no political career ending crime.

But even more disturbing is the fact that he’s received and shown support for a man named JT Ready, an outright neo-fascist who took part in a neo-Nazi demonstration in which a Mexican and Israeli flag were set on fire in Omaha, Nebraska.

Just another good ole’ boy barbeque complete with hate-core music, slam dancing and burning swastikas adorning the backdrop of America... which more and more each day feels as if it should really be spelt AmeriKKKa.

Again… there’s no issue with any of this blatant racism in Arizona – a state which also made sure there was no existence of a Dr. Martin Luther King Holiday until an economic boycott, the loss of 166 conventions and subsequent loss of an NFL Superbowl, finally forced them to approve the holiday. Not for the sake of justice, but for the sake of their economy.

The last of the cowboys is actually a cowgirl, albeit the most dangerous of this ruthless Arizona posse…

Cowgirl Jan Brewer, also known as the most dimwitted chick next to Sara Palin, also known as the Governor of Arizona… also known as the white women who defied the big bad black President of the United States, actually became the most dangerous of the posse when she signed this controversial law (SB1070) into effect on Friday, April 23, 2010.

A law which basically makes it probable cause to have any semblance of skin tone that could be considered, illegal, Latino, Native American, light-skinned black… you get the picture.

And if you’re stopped for being any shade of brown, you’d better have your birth certificate, driver’s license, social security, passport, baptism records and a letter from your mother that reads… “Officer, please don’t arrest, detain or beat my son or daughter… I swear they were born in America… plopped right out of my belly right here in the good ole’ U.S of A!”

For those saying this law will not affect anyone in this country legally. Think again… because just hours before the bill even passed, a man only willing to give his first name as Abdon, was already arrested and taken to the INS building even though he showed his commercial drivers license and a social security card.

He was only released after his wife retrieved his birth certificate from their home and was able to prove he was a citizen of the United States. (story here)

I have to wonder and pose the question to my audience, whether or not a white president could’ve stopped this bill from being signed into law with a simple phone call…

I can’t help but believe that if President Obama had been Bush’s or Clinton’s skin tone while making this phone call to Jan Brewer… that perhaps the pen-slinging cowgirl would’ve holstered her weapon and not spilt the ink on that paper which now spells racism for this country and a plunge back fifty years in time… when it was illegal to be Black in America.

Obama was quoted as saying, “As a nation, as a people, we can choose a different future – a future that keeps faith with our history, with our heritage, and with the hope that America has always inspired in the hearts of people all over the world…”

The cowboys and cowgirls of Arizona would be wise to draw on that past history in understanding that while they may be able to slaughter us for their own political gain… they’ll never be able to silence our ancestors… and they’ll never be able to enslave our spirit.

Brown may very well be the new black to those still trying to bind us. But they’d do well to remember their own immigration status and passage to this country… If they’re not original Native Americans… they’re all walking on stolen land.




Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.

Time to Pull Up Your Pants Son

Time to Pull Up Your Pants Son

I think it’s safe to say that when a school celebrates a makeshift holiday called, “Pull up your pants day,” we’ve lost the battle concerning our youth being respectful in school.

Plantation High School – who the hell named this school – in South Florida celebrated the day in honor of a speech President Barack Obama gave back in November 2008 in which he stated, “Brothers should pull up their pants.”

A local Wal-Mart supplied the school with 200 free belts to help the cause. And teachers said there were no incidents, adding that all of the students were on their best behavior.

Reading the article, reminded me about a statement I recently heard activist NYOIL make on Hot 97’s Street Soldiers a few weeks back. When he spoke about how respectable the young men and women behaved while participating in his Blackbird Fly Conference and Gala Event.

The young ladies dressed like princesses and queens in beautiful gowns, complete with crowns. And the young men who accompanied them dressed like young royalty, looking as sharp as ever in their rented tuxedos. It’s no wonder they carried themselves with a great deal of pride as they walked around.

If you’ve ever dressed like this yourself you’d understand that it affords you the ability to walk with your head held extra high, feeling like a million bucks, dressed in a way that often reflects on the inside who we’d always like to be on the outside.

Dressing in such a glamorous way often causes people to stop and stare, to pay attention to us as we enter or exit a room… and as a first impression, there is no better way to say, “I respect myself and I expect you to respect me the same…”

So it’s of no great surprise that with the young men of this next generation walking around like penguins, in a clumsy-like shifting from side-to-side, trying to keep their pants up walk, they look every bit the buffoonish way they often seem to act.

They’re behavior is simply mimicking the dress code they’ve adopted from the penitentiary system.

I myself remember walking around my cell when I was 15-years-old without a belt and no shoe laces, trying to find another way to hang myself so that my mother wouldn’t beat me senseless for getting caught writing graffiti.

But for me there really wasn’t anything cool about it… And I never found a reason to bring that style home with me… granted my 12 hour bid wasn’t long enough for me to become accustomed to the fashion, but you get the meaning. I didn’t see being arrested as a badge of honor the way many do in our inner-cities.

Being a part of the Hip Hop generation often means we’re not quick to speak out against issues that can be perceived as, “Selling out…”

The Stop Snitching campaign is a wonderful example of just how far we’ll go to keep shut about behaviors killing our neighborhoods, because we don’t want to be seen as taking the side of the law, who is often seen as not on our side.

But there are times when we have to stand up and say, “Enough is enough…” And for me personally this is one of those times when I have to use my voice to make that statement.

I don’t believe in censorship of any kind, but I also shouldn’t have to walk down the street with my young daughters while staring at the ass or dirty draws of some young wannabe thug.

I don’t believe in policing what people wear, but I do believe in the indecency laws on the books that should prevent me as a father from having to stare at some young mans boxers.

I’m not interested in seeing if you’re wearing Calvin Klein, Fruit of the Loom, or Hanes underwear young brothers. It’s time for you to pick up your damn pants and have some respect for the young ladies and for that matter the older ladies in your community… As a mater of fact it’s time for you to have some respect for yourselves.

New York State Senator Eric Adams has recently launched a campaign to “Ban the Sag,” by placing six billboards all over Brooklyn that read, “Raise your pants… Raise your image,” and “We are better than this…” And frankly I agree not only with his message, but with his campaign to pass a bill that would make the practice of indecency in our streets illegal.

I understand that some might say this is just another way to invite aggressive policing into our communities. But in my humble opinion this isn’t about fashion, this is about asking our communities to dress appropriately and to respect the young ladies we have walking around these same neighborhoods we’re aiming to change for the better.

How can you have a daughter and think this is acceptable? And as a man in your community how can you condone a dress code that you know those emulating will never have a chance of being taken seriously… that they’ll never have a chance to land a decent job.

Make no mistake about it… this isn’t about dressing in a manner that we don’t believe to be fashionable. This is about combating a way of life that spells nothing but failure for those who adopt it for themselves.

This is about being a responsible adult… and telling the youth that they need to respect themselves enough to pull up their damn pants.




Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.

La Mission… Is Our Reality

La Mission… Is Our Reality

What is a dream if not for the realization that it’s achievable? And what reality is worth living in if all dreams are broken before ever having had the opportunity to manifest themselves into veracity?

One of my newest friends, Michael Holman, recently told me that the lie is that we’re lazy… the truth is that our dreams are often shattered leaving our spirits completely broken. This in turn leaves us in a state of hopelessness, a state many mistakenly perceive as laziness.

Over five years ago I decided to actively chase my own dream of becoming a published author.

But with no formal education as a writer and no connections to the publishing world I had no idea how I’d see this dream through to fruition…

Nevertheless, when the stories I fought so hard to share with the world made me the first Puerto Rican from the Bronx to sign a major publishing deal for a memoir… I realized that it was destiny dictating the importance of documenting where I came from.

It was destiny that ensured that if I ran hard and fast enough, I’d eventually catch up to my dreams and meet them up close and personal.

And to this day I continue to be gifted, not financially, but spiritually though networking encounters with others who’ve run just as hard to make their dreams their realities.

This past Friday (04/09/2010) was no exception when my friend Kay Shaw, Director of Strategic Partnerships for the National Black Programming Consortium, invited me to meet her good friend Peter Bratt and watch his powerful film, La Mission, starring his brother Benjamin Bratt.

I was elated because it was one of three films I really wanted to see last year at the New York International Latino Film Festival. But time wasn’t on my side back then and I wasn’t able to make the screenings.

Truth be told… I wasn’t supposed to see the film at that time. Because with all I was going through personally as a result of my relocation back to Bronx to save the hood, I don’t think I could’ve handled the depth of emotion I felt when I finally watched it the other night.

As it was, I almost walked out of the theater twice because of the emotional exercise the film was running me through.

La Mission, a film about the Mission District of San Francisco where Peter and Benjamin grew up, so intelligently deals with many of the issues minorities face on a daily basis. The only word I could use to describe it would be genius.

It’s simply and without question… a work of Genius!

During the Q&A after the film, Peter Bratt spoke bluntly when he mentioned that some people have asked him why he chose to tackle so many issues in one film. His answer revolved around the fact that many minority families deal with all of these issues on a daily basis.

At dinner later that night one of my first questions to Peter was, “How did you get so much content into two hours in such a seamless manner?”

And then I probably hit him in rapid fire succession with questions about the way he addressed homophobia, Latino machismo, black and brown relationships, a single father trying to raise his only son, a neighborhood that has issues with gang violence, alcoholism, the war overseas, domestic violence, the immigration problem… and I can go on and on.

He never really answered the question about how he covered all the bases in two hours, but it was more of a rhetorical anyway.

Plus, I’d only give away his secrets in this blog… so it was a good move on his part not to give me a direct answer.

But here I am several days later still wondering how one writer / director dealt with all of these issues in the span of one film, in a way that was so subtly informative that when the film was over, I remained stuck in my seat trying to process everything I’d just seen?

It was as if the powerful imagery I’d just viewed now wanted to reintroduce itself into my thoughts allowing me an opportunity to understand the power of what I’d just witnessed…

Furthermore I wondered how on earth Peter managed to capture it all in a way that couldn’t possibly draw cries of stereotyping, glorification of violence or any other mistake Latino filmmakers formulate when trying to share our painful stories of struggle and survival on the big screen?

When Peter asked me if I was going to eat anything for dinner I said, “To be honest… my nerves are shot…”

It was as if what I’d just observed on the screen made me realize that our stories can be told with dignity and pride without ever losing their authenticity… and it moved me in a way that this writer still can’t find the words to express in great enough detail.

There is a scene in the movie that has played itself over and over again in my head…

The scene depicts a fight in the middle of the street and just when it’s about to climax into an all out war, an elderly Native American man steps into the picture and says, “Nephew… that’s enough…”

Three simple words from an elder… order is restored, respect is displayed, and the spirituality of life is discovered.

It was a scene that sent tears streaming down my face instantaneously as I wished that this generation had enough respect for their elders to actually freeze and obey a command of, “Stop,” during a violent altercation.

Imagine if we respected our elders that much in the streets of Compton, the South Bronx, Chicago and the Mission District of San Francisco…

Imagine how beautiful our neighborhoods would be if we became neighbors again, if we respected our heritage, our history and our past greatness.

And it was during this process of imaging what kind of world that would be, which made me very emotional.

La Mission is a dream realized by two brothers wanting to tell a story about where they came from. And although I could sit here and talk about the brilliance of the acting – because it unquestionably was – I’d much rather prefer to spend these words writing about the brilliance of the Bratt brother’s dream being realized.

Moreover, how that dream can blossom into thousands of quality films by people of color who now have a blueprint to follow.

Marsha Norman said that, “Dreams are illustrations… from the book your soul is writing about you.”

And with films like La Mission it becomes brilliantly apparent that sharing our souls with the world through writing and filmmaking allows us to realize our greatest dreams.

La Mission in life should always be to chase your dreams… and when you catch them, let them know they never stood a chance of escaping you when they took off running.

Because in the end… our dreams are worth living for!

Stay Brown…



Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.

I’m Not a Man… Until I’m Free

I’m Not a Man… Until I’m Free

I often wonder if my messages are being clouded by the reality that some of my audience now has this preconceived notion that I’m just plain angry, thus spewing unfounded rhetoric of nonsensical ramblings that I consider of the utmost importance for the future of our people…

And when I say OUR people, I’m speaking about the most undeserved humanity has to offer.

Yes, I write for Urban Latino Magazine. But the issues I literately conquer each week are issues that affect those I see as voiceless, those whose lack of education has not afforded them the intellect to voice their frustrations in forums like these.

I’m speaking to Blacks, Latinos and even lower class Caucasians who have fallen from middle-class to lower-class in the midst of the devastating economic recession that has more of us unable to afford to be treated with dignity by a justice system whose verdicts only fall in favor of those with deep pockets.

I’m speaking to those who have given up and allowed the system to brainwash them so-much-so that they have accepted without question their destinies of life in and out of privatized penitentiaries or maybe the lesser cruel outcome of death at the hands of their neighbors.

How brain dead does one have to be to willingly and without fight accept that type of a fate?

How much of a punk does one have to be to sit idly by and watch their communities plunge into the deepest pits of despair and desolation without ever lifting as much as a faint cry in angst?

So yes, I’m angry… I’m downright pissed off…

But I’m even more confused at how those so willing to fight one another over dirty looks and fictitious families disguised as gangs remain too afraid to stand up and fight for a positive shift in the socioeconomic conditions of their families, their neighbors and their communities.

Honestly, I’m damn ashamed of my generation’s lack of interest in improving the civil rights of our people.

And just one day after the 42nd Anniversary of the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I’m mortified that all “we as a people” have managed to do is dishonor his legacy, his life’s work and his untimely death.

For those not paying attention, the racism of Dr. King’s day has been replaced with the modern day form of slavery – that being classism.

The chains of our African American ancestors have been replaced with the silver bracelets (handcuffs) of police departments across the country who continues to lock us up and throw away the key at an alarming rate, locking minorities, we 3rd class citizens, into a repeated cycle of poverty laced bondage.

Welcome to the new Jim Crow Era.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Jim Crow Laws in existence between 1876 and 1965 – not that long ago – it was basically the segregation of Whites and Blacks.

It was quite frankly, “Don’t put your black lips on my water fountain…” “Don’t put your black ass on my toilet in the restroom,” and “Get your black feet off the sidewalk when a white person walks by.”

Does that upset anyone? Do I have your attention? Are you as pissed off as I am right about now?

Today, those same laws would certainly and without question apply to Latinos and any other non-white nationalities in this country.

My question is would we stand for it?

And my personal and humble opinion is unequivocally “YES!” of course we would.

Because we have a modern day form of those laws in existence as you read this blog. And we’re too preoccupied with ourselves to care that many around us are being subject to these types of gross injustices.

With the introduction of Author Michelle Alexander’s new book titled, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness, we can no longer ignore the factual evidence now being placed in front of us.

There is a quote in Alexander’s book from President Richard Nixon’s White House Chief of Staff, H.R. Haldeman, which reads, “The whole problem is really the blacks. The key is to devise a system that recognizes this while not appearing to.”

Please go back and read that quote again and let it marinate for a minute…

Can you imagine the President of the United States being told blacks are the problem, we need a system that controls them, but we can’t appear to be controlling them?

Since that time we have gone from 300,000 people in prison to 2.3 million in prison, with an additional 5 million on probation or parole.

Does this sound like the control of blacks and Latinos to anyone?

It’s high time we realize that these systems were put in place over forty years ago to control the progression, or lack thereof, of African Americans and eventually other minority populaces, primarily Latinos, who also inhabit inner-city communities across the country.

And it’s about damn time we begin as a collective to get serious about breaking this chains and cycles of oppression. According to the National Urban Leagues, “State of Black America Report,” Black men and women earn 62 cents on the dollar earned by whites; Less than half of black and Hispanic families own homes and 40 million people are living under the poverty line in this country, this being based on pre-recession data. Conditions are much worse today.

And here we are locked into a system that prefers to spend $45 thousand dollars a year to confine a 19-year-old, non-violent criminal, than to use that money for programs designed to actually treat, rehabilitate and educate that same 19-year-old.

Bryan Stevenson stated on the Bill Moyer Journal, imagine “What kind of America we can create if we invest in deconstructing the systems that have created poverty, reinvesting in jobs, reinvesting in a kind of politics of hope. We talk about it, but we don’t make it real unless we deal with the most hopeless, marginalized, subordinated communities in our society.”

Mr. Stevenson is one who is trying to carry on the war waged against the system so many decades ago by Dr. King.

As I hear the sirens screaming outside my window I recall Dr. King’s speech when he powerfully said, “I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promise land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promise land! And I’m so happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man!”

The next day Dr. Martin Luther King was murdered.

I just wish some of you would rid yourself of that fear of man, that fear of the system… and journey with me to the summit of that same mountain Dr. King was climbing.

It’s time we remove these chains and walk as free men in our communities!





Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.

Fly… Blackbird Fly

Fly… Blackbird Fly

I have a disease that although I’ve never been diagnosed for, I know exists in the very depths of my DNA. It’s as much a part of my genetic code as the tiniest chromosomes that make me the living, breathing, walking, talking mess of a human being that I am.

And unlike most patients, I can actually pinpoint the exact moment my symptoms began to display themselves to me, since it was the first time I held my oldest daughter, Heaven, in my arms. With the births of my daughters Starr and Anesa some years later, each symptom only became stronger and more acute.

I don’t believe there is any clinical terminology for this disease… But it’s basically one that causes my softest side to reveal itself to the world every time I look in the eyes of a young girl…

I see my daughters in all of them, I immediately want to protect them, shelter them from harm, educate them about loving themselves, believing in themselves and respecting themselves…

In other words, I want to be their fathers, especially to those who don’t have one… or have a poor excuse for one.

If I had to put a name on this disease, I’d call it fatheriticus complexitus. And the definition would read: “A complex disease in which a father wants to save the daughters of the world, even if they’re not biologically his.”

Not the worst disease in the world to have, but a draining one to say the least.

And even though I’m told about twice a week that I’m an inspiration to someone, many probably don’t understand that even the inspiring have to find inspiration where they can to make it through their most difficult days.

The funny thing is you just never know where that inspiration is going to come from. And I had no way of knowing how much I’d find at the Blackbird Fly Conference in Staten Island, New York, this past weekend, organized by community activists NYOIL and Artina Sharpton.

After speaking to the girls bluntly about my own teenage history with domestic abuse, why I was a batterer, why I hurt the young girls I was supposed to love and how I feel about my behavior today as a man, I stayed to listen to NYOIL speak to the young women.

I was immediately called out when NY said, “I’m not here to play nice with you and tell you that you can be anything you want to be…”

Damn, did NY just call me out?

After all, I had just told them they could become whatever they wanted to be, if they worked harder than the person to the left and right of them…

He went on to passionately explain his position when he told the young ladies that many of them would fail in life, that many would get caught up in bad relationships with bad guys, that some would even be murdered out there running around on the streets.

NYOIL was speaking sincerely and straight from the heart when he spoke about how many of them felt like the adults owed it to them to give them whatever it was they wanted in life. As if everything should just be handed to them.

Damn, NYOIL has a bad case of fatheriticus complexitus. Perhaps an even worse case than me…

I could tell he was trying to be brutally honest with these young females who are living in a world where brutal honesty rears itself on a daily basis in their neighborhoods and I truly appreciated his frankness.

He went into a story about how he and his wife had invested so much of their personal money into buying these same teenagers sneakers for the track team, and dresses for dances, that they literally ended up in court fighting to keep their house.

He spoke about the heartbreak of putting his families financial needs second, only to see the kids quit the track team after getting their free sneakers… after being put first in a world that almost never puts them in that order.

And I thought all this time I was the only one spending rent money to help someone seemingly more in need than myself.

His message was an inspirational bullet that stuck me so hard in the head I almost allowed the tears to roll down my face. He talked to them about the fact that they were stealing the next person’s opportunity every time they took advantage of someone’s sincere love and kindness… and I thought everything about the event was genius and timely.

If even one rapper on Jay Z’s, Eminem’s or 50 Cent’s level understood the truest definition of real… I believe they’d all have a case of fatheriticus complexitus. I understand Jay Z doesn’t have children, but what excuse do the other two have?

NYOIL defined “REAL” for those young ladies in attendance in a way that very few men ever will. And I pray that his message was heard in that room because it was certainly one of the most powerful I’d ever heard. It gave me the energy to continue my own mission to alter the mind states of these young adults in need of our help. It gave me a belief that there are people out here who still care. And it came a time when I was contemplating the eradication of “youth advocate” from my resume.

NY and Artina Sharpton managed a grassroots effort to bring in speakers, artists and professionals over several days to show these girls that there are people who still care.

My good friend Lynx Garcia ran a workshop with another good friend Patricia “Lady Picasso” Perez who came from Chicago. The workshop titled, “Be Your Vision,” was a hit in helping the girls discover who they want to be and how to get there.

On Sunday, the girls dressed in the most beautiful dresses and became real life princesses and queens for a night – complete with crowns – as they attended a beautiful gala dinner to introduce them to their inner royalty.

I truly respect what was done in Staten Island this past weekend and I ask you all to use this as an example of what a few concerned residents of a community can do to make this world a better place for our future mothers.

There is a saying by Friedrich Nietzsche that states, “He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.”

If we don’t teach our young how to fly right into their dreams… how are they ever going to make it?

Fly… Blackbird Fly!



Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.

Someone Please Tell God to Punch Back In

Someone Please Tell God to Punch Back In

Does anyone, and I do mean anyone, have an open line of communication with God these days?

Is it possible that a priest or a nun, perhaps an elderly bible toting church going woman or someone who’s just been saved recently have a direct line of communication to the Lord?

And I don’t want to speak to any middlemen – no apostles – I’m looking to speak directly to the supernatural man himself, the one who’s supposed to be looking down over us and making sure we don’t get “too” far out of hand…

Um, hello… God… we’re way the hell out of hand down here!

Ladies, it’s true… God has to be a man… I can’t possibly imagine a female God allowing life to become so damn unnaturally screwed up down here on Earth… I mean come on… am I lying? Things are really, really out of hand.

If there is anyone out there that has the supernatural ability or maybe the 1-800 number, please call God immediately and pass this message on to him for me… Tell him Ivan Sanchez said it’s time to get back to work. His lunch break, coffee break, naptime or whatever it is he’s been doing since 30 AD should be over by now…

Tell him I said we need him to come down from the Heaven’s and straighten a few things out for us.

What an understatement huh?

If he gives you any trouble, if he says anything like, “The nerve of that Ivan Sanchez…” or “Who the hell does he think he is…” Tell him I’m just as pissed at him as he is at me.

Tell him I’m still very upset about all the World Wars…

Tell him I’m tired that soldiers are still dying in wars all over the world.

Tell him I’m upset he never answered my prayers for world peace – I spent 10 years in Catholic School, that’s a lot of unanswered prayers… A lot of Hail Mary’s, a lot of Our Fathers…

You better believe I’m upset.

Tell him I still don’t understand the Holocaust. Why were 12 million innocent men, women and children persecuted and gassed, tortured, shot to death and just plain slaughtered like cattle?

Couldn’t you have thrown a lightning bolt directly at Hitler’s ass without leaving the comfort of Heaven’s kitchen?

Don’t you read the newspapers or watch the evening news? We’re getting massacred down here…

Speaking of mass genocide, couldn’t you have thrown lighting bolts at Mao Ze-Dong and put a stop to the Chinese Revolution which killed upwards of 30 million? What about Stalin and the 17 million

Russians who died of hunger and war? Or Hideki Tojo, who had 5 million civilians slaughtered during WWII.

They can’t possibly go to hell… So please tell me you welcome them all in to Heaven…

What about all this modern day genocide in Bosnia, Rwanda and Darfur?

What about the 20 million AIDS deaths in Africa… and those all over the world for that matter?

Or let’s talk about the 1 billion people who go to sleep hungry every night… and the 16,000 children who die of hunger-related causes every day. That’s one child every five seconds Lord… One Innocent child dying every five seconds…

Are you simply too busy to address any of these horrific acts against humanity… huh God?

You have to talk to me here… I have all these people saying, “God bless…” But I’m not interested in being blessed while the rest of humanity is suffering.

So tell me… Is it 2012?

Is that when you’re going to come back down here and straighten out this mess we’ve made?

If you’re waiting on an invitation Lord… here it is…. “Dear God… Please send help now!!!”

And don’t forget to bring Jesus, Jehovah, Buddha, and Allah with you. I have a funny feeling it’s going to take a team to turn this thing around.

To all those who read this blog and believe I’m headed straight to hell… Please don’t pray for me, don’t worry about me… Pray for all those who see hell right here on earth.

I’ve already seen the fiery pits of hell in the eyes of children… and in the eyes of the elderly… a pain that can’t be duplicated no matter how hot the molt and lava are… I’ll either adjust to the heat or I’ll find a way to put the fire out… I’ll be OK.

Just do me this one little favor and tell God to punch back in and get back to work already…
I don’t know about any of you… But I’ve seen enough to lose my faith in the unseen.

The only faith I have left is in humanity. I know we’re still capable of beautiful things when we come together as one.

The only question is… Will we ever come together as one?




Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.

Singing the NYPD Blues

Singing the NYPD Blues

I’ll tell you one thing… The New York City Police Department is as good at breaking the law as they are at breaking records.

Last year for example they broke the record for the most stop and frisk encounters with the public ever recorded, stopping a staggering 575,000 citizens.

You can use your imagination in regards to how many of those stopped were actually blacks and Latinos who simply happened to “Fit the profile.”

It’s something I’m unfortunately all too familiar with.

Several weeks ago I picked up my good friend Luis Antonio Ramos from the set of Derek Velez Partridge’s upcoming film, The Miracle of Spanish Harlem, only to discover there were no miracles in Harlem when the boys in blue set their sights on you.

Several blocks away from the film set I was pulled over by an unmarked police car.

I know my rights. I’ve watched a lot of movies… so in my best Huey Newton, Black Panther voice I asked, “Officer, can you tell me what I did wrong… I’d like to know why I’m being stopped.”

The reply came back, “I’ll tell you in a minute when you give me your license and registration.”

He later explained to me that not only did my vehicle match the description, but that I personally matched the description of a hit and run driver.

The only problem with his story was the fact that he couldn’t have possibly seen what I looked like at night with the heavy rain falling, the windows fogged up and my skull cap pulled down over my eyebrows.

He might as well have said, “I’m stopping you because you’re a SPIC with Virginia plates in Harlem…”

And after taking his time to enter my information into his database he came back and handed me my paperwork without ever uttering one word… Not an, “I apologize for the mix-up…” Not a, “Thanks for your cooperation…” and definitely not a, “Have a good night sir…”

I drove off joking with Luis saying, “I always match the damn description!”

But deep inside I wasn’t laughing because I knew I was just the victim of an illegal stop and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

Apparently I’m in very good company though because according to the New York Times “Big Brother in Blue” article, “From 2004 through 2009, according to Police Department statistics, an astounding 2,798,461 stops were made. In 2,467,150 of those encounters — 88.2 percent — the people were completely innocent of any wrongdoing.”

That means almost 90% of the people being stopped and harassed by the NYPD are completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

Within the same week of my stop, my co-host on Rebel Radio (Urban Latino Radio), Steve “Trig One” Cancino was stopped in Brooklyn after our radio show.

Trig was made to exit his vehicle along with politically conscious rapper North of the Hip Hop group Division X.

They were forced to place their hands on the hood of a freezing vehicle in the dead of winter while they were searched for weapons. And they were also made to stand outside while the entire vehicle was searched illegally.

When Trig asked the two detectives, also in an unmarked car, for their badge numbers, they both proceeded to turn their badges around and ignore the request.

Just another example of how professional these rogue officers are and how blatantly disrespectful they are when they themselves break the law on a daily basis.

Later that week I watched officers from the 41st Precinct in the South Bronx, pull up to the corner bodega and rip the pockets right off the pants of a young black teenager – who as you might’ve already guessed – probably fit the description of being black in the South Bronx.

When the officers didn’t find what they were looking for… they jumped back in their black Impala and drove off as if they were never there.

I wonder if those types of stops are documented in the NYPD database.

The only satisfaction I received out of all of this was a week later, when one honorable and brave officer finally broke the blue wall of silence and spoke to ABC news about the fact that the 41st Precinct is getting orders from One Police Plaza to write more summonses and make more arrests. (Video here)

Officer Adil Polanco is quoted in the video as saying, “Our primary job is not to assist anybody. Our primary job is to get those numbers and come back with them.”

Ah, now it’s all starting to make sense. But I thought the NYPD has always gone on record as saying there are no quotas???

Later in the video a secretly recorded audio tape is played in which an NYPD supervisor at roll call clearly states, “If you think 1 and 20 is breaking your balls, guess what you are going to be doing? You’re going to be doing a lot more, a lot more than what you think.”

He’s referring to the 1 arrest and 20 summonses all officers are expected to comply with.

And in yet another audio recording a different supervisor states, “Next week you could be 25 and 1, you could be 35 and 1. And guess what? Until you decide to quit this job and become a Pizza Hut delivery man, this is what you’re going to be doing until then… Do we understand each other?”

Yes, we’ve finally caught these bastards red-handed on tape… Justice is coming their way… Or is it?

Like with anything the NYPD does in New York City, the story was dead and buried before it became a story.

As for the only honorable police officer at the 41st Precinct, Office Polanco was suspended shortly after blowing the whistle on charges that he pushed his supervisor.

Something tells me he’ll be delivering my pizza the next time I place an order at Pizza Hut.

If you ask me he probably would’ve felt more satisfied had he at least punched his supervisor dead in the face.

The moral of the story is they’re really proving that they’re not here to serve and protect… So their new motto really should read… “The NYPD… Here to harass and disrespect!”

In the NYPD it simply doesn’t pay to be honest – that’s why they got me singing these NYPD Blues…



Ivan Sanchez is the author of Next Stop: Growing up Wild-Style in the Bronx (Touchstone – Simon & Schuster, 2008). The book is the first memoir released by a major publishing house written by a Puerto Rican from the Bronx. Sanchez is also the co-author of It’s Just Begun: The Epic Journey of DJ Disco Wiz, Hip Hop’s First Latino DJ (powerHouse, 2009). He was awarded the National Novel honors for his first fiction offering and is currently working on several new books about NY Latinos. He is also the co-host of Rebel Radio on Urban Latino Radio.