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Afro-Mexican in Texas and Mexico



In the context of the history of slavery in the Americas, the term free Blacks initially refers specifically to people of mixed African and European descent who were not slaves. This is also the case for many African Americans that helped the slave owners gain independence from Mexico. For example, Hendrick Arnold was of mixed ancestry and did the bidding of Texas slave owners by owning slaves himself. However, racial classifications were numerous in Mexico and many were free under the orders of the Afro-Mexican President Vicente Guerrero. Additionally, Victor Blanco, possibly an Afro-Mexican, or of Afro-Spaniard descent was the “mayor” of San Antonio during the time Spain ruled Mexico and before 1821.

Texas was a part of the Republic of Mexico from 1821 until 1826. Texas became a pro-slavery state in 1845. Blanco was elected the first vice governor under the Constitution of Coahuila and Texas, effectively making him the head official in San Antonio for a time. Recent Mexican reports indicate that nearly two million Mexicans identify with African ancestry.

A note about “Sambos” and “Uncle Toms,” or those who betrayed their own people, is important here. A few Blacks aided the Texas slave owners. Samuel McCulloch Jr., Henrick Arnold, and William Ashworth all worked in support of the oppression of their own people. A statue recently erected to honor Hendrick Arnold does not tell the whole story. He can hardly be described as a hero since he supported slavery even though he was part Black. Furthermore, both Arnold and Ashworth owned Black slaves themselves since they had white parents. They would fight against the free Afro-Mexicans who opposed slavery. McCulloch considered a mulatto, would have been treated better by some whites given his white father. The term “mulatto” comes from the Spanish and means mule, a racist term associating Black people with animals. In 1827, Arnold had a daughter with a slave named Dolly. Shamefully, Arnold held his own daughter Harriet as a slave. All the while this was going on free Afro-Mexicans were fighting as free men for General Santa Anna’s Mexican army and against the likes of these traitorous mulatto slave owners.

There is much ado about the Blacks that fought for the slave owners during the struggle to rip Texas away from Mexico, but little is said about the Afro-Mexicans that fought for Santa Anna against the Texas slave owners. Despite the painting of General Santa Anna as a supervillain he freed slaves wherever he went. Vicente Guerrero’s oldest daughter was the goddaughter of Santa Anna. The General knew that the inexperienced defenders would flee and so may have designed a plan to attack the north wall and leave the other walls partially open so that when the defenders attempted an escape, they would be ambushed by Black Mexican lancers of the Los Morenos Libre de Vera Cruz (The Free Black of Veracruz) unit.
After Mexico was defeated, slavery was once again instituted. Blacks were a population that was subjected to harsh plantation and farm life along the banks of the San Antonio River and the local creeks as pro-slavery southerners flooded into the state. Slave farms dotted the landscape with at least three slave-owning farms in the northern sector of Bexar County. There were slave farms in the southern sector in and near the Applewhite and Mitchell Lake areas, and on the near Southside in later years. One such slave plantation was on the near Northside just west of Broadway Street in San Antonio.

According to Father Juan Morfi (1778), the mission at San Saba, just 140 miles northwest of San Antonio, reported that 151 Blacks, some of whom were Afro-Indian were located within the mission walls during the 1700s. What is often ignored or erased were the cultural influences of the original Canary Island population by Berber, Black, Islamic, and Moorish customs and traditions. This is seen with the whistle language (Silbo) which was adopted by the Spanish colonial settlers but is clearly Moorish, North African or Berber in origin. Much of the original African customs and traditions of the original inhabitants of these islands, off the coast of Africa, were Hispanicized, and their origins were purposefully erased from history. Thus, a clearly defined Afro-Mexican population began to develop.

Blacks in San Antonio have many origins, including being both free and slaves. A review of the slave records from the 1700s also reveals that some of the Canary Islanders and Spaniards were slave owners or pro-slavery men. Records compiled at the Institute of Texan Cultures show that in the 1700s in Bexar County, Afro-Mexican, Afro-Indian, and Afro-Spaniard slaves were being sold. Because of their Spanish surnames little has been analyzed to document the entire slave system under Spanish rule in San Antonio and how they eventually became Afro-Mexicans. Examples of Afro-Mexicans being sold as slaves in early Bexar County can be found in the general manuscript series, 1603-1803 and are given as statistical census reports from that era. The record tells this story:  San Antonio de Bexar and Villa of San Fernando – There is recorded a bill of sale between Maria Josefa Flores de Valdes and Justo Boneo y Morales for Negro slave named Luis . . . Villa of San Fernando and Presidio of San Antonio de Bexar. Another record shows a bill of sale between Gil Ibarvo and Angel Navarro for Negro slave Juana (Afro-Mexican). Also, in what was called San Antonio de Bexar and Villa of San Fernando de Austria, a bill of sale between Juan Andres Alvarez Traviezo and Facundo Mansolo for a mulatto slave named Maria de los Dolores was recorded.

Prior to 1829, Mexico had a slave system under the Spanish. Spain used Afro-Mexican soldiers and conquistadors during its rule as a colonial power. During the Deiz y Seiz celebration, Afro-Mexican President Vicente Guerrero abolished slavery and the Racial Casta System. Ironically, during the same year, a Black Mexican named José Francisco Laviña asked the mayor of San Antonio to free his wife being held as a slave in Bexar County. In the white slave-owning colonies of Texas, Moses Austin had brought with him 400 Black slaves into the original colony. Some of them escaped to Mexico and developed Afro-Mexican families and communities. After his death, Stephen F. Austin, a pro-slavery man, tried to convince.

Mexico to accept slavery, but Mexico made the argument that all children born of slaves are born free. Hence, many Blacks saw an opportunity for freedom by becoming Mexicans. Austin was sent to Mexico and a scheme was developed in which whites would abandon slavery in favor of an indentured servant system. Mexico soon discovers that this system was for 99 years and not seven. General Santa Anna having felt hoodwinked was ready for war. The scheme seems to have been developed by the slave owner James Morgan and William Travis. Morgan is most likely the man that created the myth that Emily West (Morgan) was a slave.

Mexican President Vicente Guerrero abolished slavery on September 15, 1829. Very few are aware that the abolition of Mexican slavery took place during the celebrations of Diez y Seis (September 16 or the Mexican Independence Day), which makes it a day for Blacks to celebrate as well. Through ethnocide and the erasure of African contributions, this holiday has been sanitized of its Black contributions. Deiz y Seiz, is as much a Black holiday as it is a Mexican holiday. Many historians believe that the abolition of slavery in Mexico (Texas) was the driving force behind the Texas-Mexico wars of 1836 and 1846. According to researchers Campbell (1989), and De Leon (1983), Anglo economic prosperity was linked to the idea that Texas should be free from Mexico to maintain and expand the institution of slavery.

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Black Life Texas

Black Musical Legacy: Black Music Month




Black Music Month, created in 1979, honors the history and rich American Black music traditions that gave birth to different music styles, including every type of music you can think of. Blues, country, classical, jazz, Afro, Latin, R&B, gospel, rock, pop, Reggae, and so on. Music is integral in our lives! Without music, you would not know how to feel when you watch a movie scene. Music helps you to get your mood right before heading to work, and music will keep you moving a little faster in the gym.

Today, as our Black race is being besieged with assaults on the many contributions the African American community has made to the country’s history (outside of music), one thing is for sure, they can NEVER take our music away. Everyone knows “the flavor” we put on things. George Clinton of the Parliament Funkadelic expressed that flavor well with his P-Funk mythology that weaved into his music and touring bands. Along with the Civil Rights Movement, Black performers in the 1960s and 1970s were laying the foundation of music genius for generations to come.

It has been encouraging to see artists like Anita Baker, Prince and Michael Jackson win the rights to own their music. The record companies often attempted to out-slick Black artists from owning their music. When Warner Bros. told Prince that he didn’t own his God-given name, Prince wrote SLAVE on his face in defiance.

Black Music Month also begins on a somber note. Music fans worldwide are saddened by the transition of Anna Mae Bullock, known by the stage name Tina Turner. Tina died on May 24, 2023. The frenetic dancer had a raw and raspy voice, which captured the hearts of her fans. Although an excellent performer, the love of her fans became even more apparent due to her withstanding the abuse at the hand of her former husband, Ike Turner.

Tina, the lead singer with the Ike and Tina Turner Review, had their biggest hit with Proud Mary, which won a Grammy Award in 1971. But Tina went beyond her accomplishments with Ike when she started her solo career. Her album Private Dancer became an incredible commercial success. At the 1985 Grammy Awards, “What’s Love Got to Do With It” won three awards for Record of the Year, Song of the Year, Best Female Pop Vocal Performance, and “Better Be Good To Me” won for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance.

Rap music is the Black community’s newest music contribution and it too has made its way into the mainstream with worldwide acceptance. To honor rap artists accomplishments, the Grammy Awards celebrated 50 years of Rap Music. New technology has also drastically changed the music business and has both hurt and helped artists. Many are now able to achieve vast amounts of wealth faster and often cut out the traditional record company. Ushered in by Apple Music and streaming services, along with social media, the public now has easier access to artists and their music.

Look at the accomplishments of the individuals who started in music and morphed into mainstream businesses. You have BEATS by Dr. Dre, TIDAL by Jay-Z, and Rhianna has done very well with her Fenty line. There are many more who have used the music to launch businesses, such as Ice Cube, Puffy, 50 Cent, Russel Simmons, and many others who all became household names.

This year’s Rock & Roll Hall of Fame which will be aired on Nov. 3, 2023 is also more inclusive than ever before. The 1960’s soulful group, The Spinners, was included in the performer category, along with Missy Elliott, who became the first female hip-hop artist and has been called “a true pathbreaker in a male-dominated genre.” The Musical Influence Award is bestowed on DJ Kool Herc, who is credited with contributing to the development of hip hop music in the Bronx, New York City, in the 1970s. The Musical Excellence Award was given to Chaka Khan, who is described as “one of the mightiest and most influential voices in music,” who paved the way for women like Mary J. Blige, Erykah Badu and Janelle Monáe.

And the “Soul Train’s” Don Cornelius will posthumously be awarded the Ahmet Ertegun Award at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, which is given to a person who had a major influence on the creative development and growth of rock & roll music.

To all Black music artists and their supporting cast and crew, we honor you! Not just the performers, but anyone who plays a role in allowing the community at large to hear this incredible music, we applaud you also!
The staff of Black Life Texas urges readers to do something this month. Attend a performance by a Black artist, buy or download your favorite song. Just do something!

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Black Life Texas

Day of Memorials in Washington, D.C.




By Don Mathis

Austin–Bergstrom International Airport was alive April 21 with an assortment of 40 military veterans gathered for a flight to Washington, D.C. Austin Honor Flight 81 was assigned to tour our nation’s war memorials the next day. 

Old Korea veterans from the Army and Air Force rolled about in wheelchairs. Wise-cracking Cold War Marines mingled with spry veterans from the Vietnam era. I was one of the last Americans to be drafted in May 1971, so was eligible to attend.  

After the TSA checkpoint, it was more of the old Army axiom, “Hurry up and wait.” Then an Honor Guard troop arrived and the Austin Police Department Pipe and Drum Corps got in formation.  

Aides with wheelchairs led our company of veterans down the concourse to the beat of drums, whistles of flutes, and the haunting sounds of bagpipes. Civilian travelers clapped and cheered. Mothers wiped tears from their eyes and young men saluted. A hundred passengers stopped on their way to their gates and filmed our parade.  

Speeches and a blessing followed an acapella rendition of the Star-Spangled Banner. Nyle Maxwell owns several car dealerships in Texas and his family sponsored this Honor Flight. Transportation, lodging, meals, and personal guides were given to those who served. *  

The ramp to the aircraft was festooned with red, white, and blue. A water cannon saluted our takeoff. The reception at Reagan National Airport was even more grand. A thousand tourists and businessmen applauded our arrival. This is the welcome that servicemen from Korea and Vietnam never received when they returned home.  

The band of veterans, uniformed in matching shirts and caps with service insignia, boarded the bus for a short trip to a hotel in Alexandria, Virginia, to prepare for a banquet. Guardians and guests sat by the side of dozens of veterans as they were feted for their service.  

poem was offered:  

Children become soldiers; there are a thousand reasons why.
Some will die in combat, others will survive.
I won’t forget their sacrifices, their families who had to wait,
and their careers they put on hold. So, if it’s not too late,
I want to thank the veteran. What he had to do, he did.
Soldiers grow old too fast. It seems yesterday he was just a kid.
We can flower and flag the cemetery. We can shed a little tear.
We can offer our thanks to the living veterans who are still here. 

Speeches and blessings were rendered. But one tribute was unique – The Missing Man Table:  

The table is round, to show everlasting concern for our missing men. The white linen symbolizes the purity of their motives when answering the call to serve. A single rose reminds us of the love of their friends and family. A ribbon symbolizes our continued determination to account for our missing. A slice of lemon reminds us of their bitter fate; captured and missing in a foreign land. A pinch of salt symbolizes the tears of our missing and their families who long for answers after decades of uncertainty. The lighted candle reflects our hope for their return, alive or dead. The goblet is inverted, symbolizing their inability to share a toast. The chair is empty, the seat that remains unclaimed at the table. 

The next day, a cigar-chomping character, dressed up like a five-star general, greeted the veterans at the WWII Memorial. Inside the columns, an Honor Guard composed of service men and women from the five branches of military showed respect for the symbols of our country.  

The Star-Spangled Banner was sung by one of the Honor Flight guardians. It was impeccable – until she stumbled. Truth be told, I thought it was a recording until her miss; I thanked her for keeping it real. Some funerals at the National Cemetery in San Antonio feature a recording of “Taps,” played by an electronic bugle. The rendition of “Taps” at the World War II Memorial was real.  

As if on cue, the fountains at the Rainbow Pool sprang to life amid our salute to the Greatest Generation. During WWII, my dad was a sailor in the Pacific; my step-father was a GI in Germany. I carried a dozen American banners in my backpack – and I left a flag for my fathers.  

Each veteran was assigned a guardian to explain the sites and keep us punctual for the next tour bus departure. Our itinerary was tight, but I convinced my guardian to go AWOL with me to see some war memorials on our own.  

The names of the men and women from the District of Columbia who gave their lives in the First World War are inscribed in an open-air Doric structure near the Reflecting Pool. My guardian’s grandfather served in the Great War for Civilization. I left a flag for his service.   

One summer morning 60 years ago, my grandmother rustled me from sleep. “Son, wake up,” she said. “We’re at war.” Instantly, all the images of the war movies I was raised on flashed through my head. So, I left a flag for those early causalities at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial.  

A nearby statue depicts three American servicemen and the things they carried. An empty wheelchair sat next to the sculpture the day of our visit – a reminder that some veterans came home in a wheelchair; some didn’t come home at all.  

One of my Honor Flight friends recalled his companion who died in Vietnam – and made a rubbing of his name. We looked at a cell phone image of James Wells and gave him a silent salute.  

Down the hill from the United States Institute of Peace, a new memorial is going up. There was a groundbreaking on Constitution Avenue last year for the Desert Shield and Desert Storm Memorial. Organizers hope to have a dedication next year. And across 23rd Street, the Global War on Terrorism Memorial Foundation is planning an edifice to remember those who have served in that struggle.  

2023 is the 70th anniversary of the end of the Korean War. In April, D.C.’s streets were festooned with the flag of South Korea to welcome President Yoon of the Republic of Korea. He and President Biden left a wreath at the Korean War Veterans Memorial a few days after my visit.  

1953 is the first memory I have of my dad when he returned to his two-year-old son after the war in Korea. I left another flag for my father.  

Arlington National Cemetery is a place of solemn beauty, with headstone after headstone in a row. It is a peaceful place befitting those who have seen the horrors of war. The sound of a flag ruffling in the breeze causes the heart to beat a little faster.  

The guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier scuffs his shoe to acknowledge the audience. The Changing of the Guard is a moving ceremony. The presentation of a wreath from Austin Honor Flight 81 was equally overwhelming.  

Although the Potomac River is at the bottom of the hill, a ship’s mast rises above the horizon. The USS Maine Memorial overlooks the graves of 230 service members who died when the battleship exploded off the coast of Havana in 1898. The sinking of this vessel was the impetus for the Spanish-American War. But it was that war that joined America again to be United States. 

A riff between North and South had existed since the Civil War. And it was the victories of Admiral Dewey’s Navy and Teddy Roosevelt’s Rough Riders that unified the nation.  The Arlington Memorial Bridge connects the Lincoln Memorial on the north side of the Potomac River with the Robert E. Lee Memorial in the heart of the National Cemetery.   

This country is experiencing a division like nothing since the Vietnam War. We need that unity once again.  

While at Arlington, I left a flag for an Army major and a Navy captain. The service I receive at the Audie L. Murphy Memorial Veterans’ Hospital in San Antonio merited a memorial for its namesake. And the father of my best friend is buried nearby; so I left a Salute to Captain Arellano.   

The Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph of the flag rising over Iwo Jima was the model for the US Marine Corps War Memorial. The base of the monument lists the names and dates of every principal Marine Corps engagement since their founding in 1775. The list of wars and battles is long – more than 40 engagements – and there is plenty of room for future wars.  

The guide brought to our attention an optical illusion. The flag at the Marine Corps Memorial seems to rise as you drive around it. There is no such thing as an ex-Marine. I left a flag for those who served.  

The Air Force Memorial honors the service and heritage of the men and women of military aviation. It’s located on federal property adjacent to a new section of Arlington National Cemetery. Three memorial spires appear to be soaring; its array of stainless-steel arcs against the sky evokes the image of contrails of Air Force jets.  

My service in the Air Force Reserve brought me to Washington, D.C. several times in the 1970s. I left a flag for my mother’s brothers. Staff Sargent Hollis Walker and Lt. Col. Dick Walker both served in the Air Force in WWII and Korea. Salute to my uncles!   

The Air Force Memorial overlooks the Pentagon. A 9/11 Memorial there commemorates the family members and friends who died in the 2001 terrorist attack. From our vantage point on the river levee, we could see the different colored stone used to repair the damage from American Airlines Flight 77. A nation is held together by its history, by a collective understanding of what has come before us, and what it has meant. This is how we are united together.  

A short stop for sailors only was planned for the United States Navy Memorial. The fountain there is filled annually with waters from the seven seas. Again, my guardian helped me go AWOL to leave a flag for my father’s service in the Pacific during WWII.  

Wars are fought for a variety of reasons. It may pitch hunter-gatherers against farmers or it may be the agrarian vs. the industrial age. Wars may be fought for land or liberty, resources or racism, ethics or to end ethnic violence.  

But if you ask the combatant why he’s fighting, he may tell you it’s for his fellow man. On Memorial Day, we remember those who have fought and fallen. We can flower and flag the cemetery or we can give a silent salute. But we remember. And in Washington, D.C., there are many memorials to aid our memory.  

*Honor Flight is a national organization that transports American veterans to Washington, D.C., to celebrate them for their service and sacrifices. If you know of a veteran from 1975 or earlier, ask them to consider looking into the Honor Flight Network – Honoring American Veterans. 

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Black Life Texas

The Truth about Jordan Neely




By Caleb Alexander

America killed Jordan Neely. There, I said the quiet part out loud. And not only is America responsible for Jordan Neely’s death, but so is Ted Cruz, Josh Hawley, Rand Paul, Ron Desantis, Gregg Abbott, and everyone else who has led the assault on Critical Race Theory or tried to suppress the truth about America’s ugly past. America has never dealt with its ugly racist history; it has instead chosen to go the way of the ostrich and stick its head in the sand. History tells us how American plantation owners would take the drums away from their slaves and bury them to keep the slaves from communicating from plantation to plantation. The drums were a means of communication, a way to keep traditions and cultural connections alive. America has chosen to bury its own drums. It wants to bury its connection to its historical and cultural ties to the abhorrently brutal practice of race-based chattel slavery.

Jordan Neely died because of the color of his skin. After Emancipation, to be clothed in Black skin not only had no value to the white power structure, it became a symbol of sin. Sin for losing a war they based their entire being on, a war about whiteness, what it was, what it meant, and what losing meant for their place in the world and society. Black skin served as a reminder of the inhumane of their humanness. The idea was that they were no better and that they would have to live in a world where they would have to survive and compete on merit and not some fallacy of a God-ordained race-based hierarchy.

Jordan Neely died because a mediocre white power structure can’t let go. The subjugation and policing of Blackness is embedded in their genetic code. Social media tells them who they are, what they should have, and where they should be in life, yet they are not there. They want to return to a bygone era where whiteness gave them access to women, to status, to privilege not earned. Whiteness made them supervisors; they were the unskilled and unqualified brutes overseeing the labor of the skilled. And now Jordan is dead. And so is Ahmaud Arbery. 

We live in a country where the criminalization of Black skin means to simply exist in a public space is a death sentence. Black skin means that you cannot be a 12-year-old child playing with a water gun in a public park, you cannot wear a jogging hoody and go the local store and buy a pack of Skittles, you cannot bird watch in Central Park, you can’t be a child doing a scientific study on trees, or go jogging in Georgia, play your music at a gas station in Florida. You just can’t. We are born with a death sentence covering us, a birth cloth that white folks see as a hunting license.

Jordan Neely was the perfect example of intersectionality at its worst. He lived in a space where he didn’t exist in society because of his mental illness, but due to his Black skin, he loomed larger than life. In the words of Hillary Clinton, he was a super-predator. To exist alternately at the nexus of the forgotten and the dangerous would cause any human being to cry out, “I’m hungry, and I’m tired of living!” To be Black in America is to be perpetually exhausted. To have your mother murdered, hacked to pieces, stuffed in a suitcase, and then discarded on the side of the highway would traumatize anyone. New York failed Jordan. The people around him failed him. Our mental health system failed him. And America’s legacy finished him off. 

The truth about Jordan Neely is that he should be alive today. He should be alive and in a hospital receiving treatment. The truth is that Jordan Neely’s mother should be alive today because society also failed her. America’s trauma on the Black family, how we’re viewed and treated should all be on trial today. The reality is the tragedy of Jordan Neely happened in 1619. Until America reconciles with its racial past, the tragedy of Jordan Neely will continue to be perpetuated for generations.  

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