Dear Erica Mena, You Can’t Co-Opt Black Culture & Hate Black Women

On a recent episode of Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta, Dominican-Puerto Rican reality TV star Erica Mena screamed “You monkey, you blue monkey” to Jamaican dancehall singer, songwriter, and actor Spice. The animalized anti-Black slur never seems too far from the lips of racially ambiguous, mestiza, mixed-race, and other non-Black Latinas who find success ironically because of Black women. Many people of alleged color use their proximity to Blackness as a ruse to gain success while harboring anti-Black values. 

This isn’t the first time we have seen non-Black Latinas, who may claim Afro-Latinidad at convenience, call dark-skinned unambiguously Black women an anti-Black slur in a public forum. It’s a signature and age-old move. In 2015, Mena herself reportedly called club promoters “Black monkeys” after not showing up to a scheduled nightclub appearance. Similarly, in 2019, self-professed Afro-Latina Evelyn Lozada did something similar to her Basketball Wives castmate, athlete Ogom “OG” Chijindu, using a monkey GIF to describe her on Instagram and repeatedly referring negatively to her looks.

In many of these public displays of anti-Blackness, the conflict is centered on a Black man “picking” the unambiguously Black woman over the so-called “exotic” non-Black woman. These are common tactics that I and many other unambiguous Black women have experienced at the hands of non-Black Latinas, including mestizas and light-skinned, racially ambiguous, self-proclaimed Afro-Latinas. And many of these non-Black Latinas use the categorization of Afrolatinidad as a get-out-of-jail card when they co-opt Blackness.

In 2019, Love and Hip Hop cast member Cyn Santana appeared on Angela Yee's Lip Service podcast controversially saying she prefers Black men and Black men prefer Latina women. “Y’all can keep the Puerto Rican men. I’m good,” she said, assuming she was referring to non-Black Puerto Rican men. She added: “I do Black guys all day. Black men cater to us Spanish [sic: Latina] girls especially.” When Yee suggested she would “get in trouble with the Black girls,” Santana, a mestiza of mixed Dominican and Salvadoran descent, said, “I didn’t mean it like that, but Black girls gonna take it personal and be like, uh-uh,” inserting just enough mockery to ensure the audience that her worldview is steeped in anti-Black tropes. 

Even more to that point of wide-spread misogynoir stereotyping, Santana later apologized on the talk show The Real, saying she “irresponsibly repeated something that I heard my entire life.” I believe her. I've long seen and heard this messaging in Latine communities. The truth Santana pointed to cannot be glossed over. These women date and procreate with Black men and, in turn, raise Black children, as Mena is doing, and I wonder how they treat those children through their lens of depreciating Blackness. One way is by treating them as a shield to claim they are not anti-Black.

This is tied to the misogynoir phenomena of Black men who put non-Black women on pedestals, prizing, pursuing, and “preferring” non-Black Latinas and white women and even defending them when they do dehumanize Black women in public media forums. This “preference” cannot be divorced from its anti-Black power dynamics and its cishetero white-centering patriarchy that Black men, among people in general, have been indoctrinated under and in turn perpetuate and harm Black women with. Black women seem to be where their targets intersect and lock in as their punching bag. 

Mena’s chagrin, and subsequent table-flipping that caused the melee, was because Safaree, a rapper and Mena’s ex-husband and father to her children, “chose” to care more about a woman who indeed is not his wife nor his children’s mother. But what really got Mena to reveal herself was that it was a dark-skinned Black woman, someone who in her eyes was undeserving of the adoration and worship she, a non-Black woman, is entitled to, so she had been taught. This subverted social order infraction could not go by Mena without a slur to bring Black women back to the intended subalterned place. She wanted the guarantee of preference that she was promised.

It is a privileged position where Mena is most comfortable because she believes in the zero-sum game of anti-Black hierarchy. This hierarchy keeps her lights on. Mena’s social currency rides in her non-Blackness and her proximity to whiteness relative to Black women. Non-Black women like her have been promised their whole lives that they deserve love and respect, withheld from Black women and over Black women in favor of women who look like her. She clamors for and is enabled by the male gaze and, furthermore, is emboldened and protected by Black men who seek refuge from their own internalized anti-Blackness in the arms of women “with less baggage and attitude” than “the Black girls.” But, as the routine racialized aggressions these women create show, even this is a myth. Together, the bond of Black men who “prefer” non-Black women and non-Black women who revel this preference replicates white pathology and notions that Black women should remain subjugated under them both. 

So many non-Black Latinas, including mestizas, mixed-race, and racially ambiguous women, have launched and sustained their careers from Black media and specifically because of Black women, like Mona Scott-Young, the creator of the Love and Hip-Hop franchise, and Shaunie O’Neal, creator of Basketball Wives. Black media gives them access into Black spaces by their “POC” proximity for them to inevitably expose their anti-Blackness, because you can only hide your ideologies for so long. Now many are calling for Mena to finally be fired from the TV series. 

Recently, reality TV star Joseline Hernandez called out her College Hill classmate Amber Rose for building her career from Black media but “catering to white people.” Hernandez, who is of Puerto Rican descent, identifies as a Black woman and not Afro-Latina, a distinction that seems to be even more necessary with each passing day. Unambiguously Black women, whether Latina or not, are racialized as Black wherever we go and do not have the escape-hatch of racial ambiguity that other non-Black Afro-Latinas do. 

Hemispherically, Black women are the butts of “jokes” for non-Black, mixed-race, bi-racial, and racially ambiguous women. In 2016, Geisha Montes de Oca (who was 2008's Miss World Dominican Republic) mocked Black Dominican singer Amara La Negra on a popular variety show by wearing an Afro wig, butt pads, and blackface. In 2013, Black Brazilian actor Nayara Justino was dethroned from her title of Miss Globaleza carnival queen in favor of a light-skinned bi-racial woman after public outcry of Justino being “too Black.” She was also subjected to violent anti-Black attacks online that negatively impacted her health.

These viral reality TV moments unveil how anti-Blackness and misogyny are like a rite of passage for many non-Black Latinas. And these are only the recorded examples. As Santana noted on The Real, oftentimes, these are the messages non-Black Latinas were raised with and didn’t question or resist because they benefited from them. She noted that when she made her own viral anti-Black comments she was in her early 20s and that now, “27 with a son,” she knows better. But does age and motherhood disentangle anti-Blackness from someone’s core? It does not. Mena and Lozado are proof-positive it does not, because it takes a process of birthing yourself anew to address and eradicate this structural ill.