It is no secret that the United States’ film and television industry has a diversity problem. Latinos make up 17% of the American population and 32% of frequent moviegoers, but are entirely underrepresented in film and TV. In the Media, Diversity, and Social Change Initiative's 2014 Report, Latinos made up only 4.9% of the movie characters in the 100 top grossing films of 20131.
“To make it you have to be fully alive. I do my best to do that. I enjoy every moment because I believe that once we die, that’s it. We’re not coming back. Lovers come back. Styles come back. But time? It never comes”1.
Este año, y también en los años 2009 y 2012, Costa Rica fue considerado como el país más feliz del mundo, debido principalmente al bienestar y a la alta esperanza de vida que su gente disfruta a pesar de tener un producto interior bruto significativamente menor que el de los países de Europa Occidental, Estados Unidos y Canadá (New Economics Foundation, 2017).
My article on Cuban writer and filmmaker Jesús Díaz (1941-2002) is part of a broader research project on cultural policy, participation and censorship in Cuba.1 I raise two questions. First, what is the role of cultural agents in the production of both stability and change in Cuba, and concomitantly, what does the regime do to coopt actors and control the production of politico-cultural forms? Second, when and how do writers and artists actually push for more ‘space’ and deploy their expressive powers in a way that challenges the statu quo?
Famous for its unique combination of mysticism and politicism, especially after the so-called “Latin American Boom” of the mid-20
Pensar el lugar de la literatura indígena en el contexto de la Literatura Colombiana, así como dentro de los momentos estéticos de la poesía en el presente siglo, es un ejercicio crítico que plantea un gran desafío, pues implica re-trazar nuestra cartografía cultural y abrir una práctica historiográfica distinta a la que se ha construido hasta hoy.
