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Tag: identity

  • SOFTwarfare Unveils Revolutionary Zero Trust Identity Solution for JADC2 at AUSA 2024

    SOFTwarfare Unveils Revolutionary Zero Trust Identity Solution for JADC2 at AUSA 2024

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    Press Release
    •

    Oct 14, 2024

    Securing the Future of Defense with Air-Gapped, Multimodal Authentication, Tactical and OT Access Control


    WASHINGTON, October 14, 2024 (Newswire.com)
    –
    SOFTwarfare, a global leader in Zero Trust Identity solutions, today announced at the Association of the United States Army (AUSA) Annual Meeting & Exposition a groundbreaking advancement in its Zero Trust Identity® platforms. This latest iteration is specifically designed to meet the stringent authentication and Identity, Credential, and Access Management (ICAM) requirements of Department of Defense (DoD) deployments within a Joint All-Domain Command and Control (JADC2) environment.

    This announcement builds upon SOFTwarfare’s Spring announcement bringing Zero Trust Identity to market for enterprise and private sector customers to meet the growing needs around CMMC and signifies a major leap forward in secure access for critical defense operations. SOFTwarfare’s Zero Trust Identity® platform now provides:

    • Unparalleled Security for JADC2: Ensures secure, authenticated access to sensitive data and resources within the complex and dynamic JADC2 architecture.
    • Enhanced ICAM Capabilities: Meets the rigorous identity and access management demands of modern military operations with advanced multi-factor authentication and authorization.
    • Seamless Integration: Deploys smoothly within existing DoD infrastructure and integrates with leading endpoint security solutions.

    “This is a pivotal moment for SOFTwarfare,” said Wyatt Cobb, CEO of SOFTwarfare. “Our Zero Trust Identity® platform not only fortifies JADC2 security but also provides the foundation for a new era of secure access across the DoD.”

    SOFTwarfare is already a trusted provider of Zero Trust Identity® solutions for operational technology (OT) environments within leading commercial enterprises and critical infrastructure sectors. This proven success, combined with the platform’s new JADC2 capabilities, positions SOFTwarfare as a key enabler of secure and resilient defense operations.

    “We are deeply committed to delivering innovative cybersecurity solutions that protect our nation’s most critical assets,” said Wyatt Cobb, CEO of SOFTwarfare. “This advancement for JADC2 is a testament to our dedication to supporting the DoD’s mission and ensuring the highest levels of security for our warfighters.”

    Key Features & Benefits:

    • Multimodal Biometric Authentication for Enterprise Applications: Proprietary technology that utilizes multiple biometric factors for strong identity verification across a wide range of enterprise applications, including access to sensitive data, critical systems, and secure facilities.
    • Operational Technology Access Control: Granular control over access to critical OT systems, preventing unauthorized access and mitigating the risk of cyberattacks on industrial control systems and other vital infrastructure.
    • User and Entity Behavioral Analytics (UEBA): Real-time risk assessment based on user behavior and network activity.
    • Automated and Human-in-the-Loop Decision Making: Provides both automated responses and human oversight for optimal security.
    • Cloud, Hybrid, and Air-Gapped Deployments: Flexible deployment options to meet the unique needs of various DoD environments.
    • Rapid Integration with Leading Endpoint Sensors: Ensures comprehensive security across all devices and access points.

    SOFTwarfare continues to be at the forefront of cybersecurity innovation, providing enterprise-grade platforms that meet the evolving needs of both commercial and defense sectors. With this latest release, SOFTwarfare solidifies its position as the global leader in Zero Trust Identity, empowering organizations to defend against increasingly sophisticated cyber threats.

    About SOFTwarfare

    SOFTwarfare is a global cybersecurity software company that defends assets from cyberattacks by securing mission-critical integrations and users. They deliver a secure Integration Platform-as-a-Service (iPaaS) and next-generation biometric multi-factor authentication (MFA). Learn more at softwarfare.com.  

    Source: SOFTwarfare

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  • Latine Celebs Are Flipping the Script on Code-Switching, and We’re All Following Suit

    Latine Celebs Are Flipping the Script on Code-Switching, and We’re All Following Suit

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    I had just sent a voice note to my friend when a curious feeling came over me. “Let me listen back to it,” I thought to myself. As I did, an even stranger feeling came over me, a lack of recognition of my own voice. You see, I’ve been code-switching so long that sometimes I’m unsure where the real me begins. Obviously, this was my friend, so I was being genuine in my language. However, as someone who has been a professional for many years, as well as an academic, the voice that I heard on playback was just one of many. And for a lot of modern-day Latines, this is another aspect of the identity politics we have to reconcile with. That’s why it’s refreshing to see that recently many Latine celebs have been more candid about the pressure they’ve felt to code-switch or “talk white” and are openly rejecting the practice to embrace their authentic selves.

    This is no doubt due to the current selling power Latines are enjoying on a global level. Buoyed by the popularity of reggaetón and Latin trap, Latin music as a whole is outpacing other markets with artists like Bad Bunny becoming global stars despite refusing to do music in English. For the past couple of years streaming services like Netflix have been investing heavily in dramas like “Casa de Papel,” “Narcos,” and, most recently, “Griselda,” starring Colombian actress Sofía Vergara. But you don’t have to go back too far to track down a time when this wasn’t the case.

    In the early 2000s, the idea that music sung predominantly in Spanish could be successful in the English-speaking market seemed absurd. During that time, you’d also have been hard-pressed to find shows featuring Latine leads or focused on issues in and around our communities. This meant that to have a shot at success, many up-and-coming stars had to approximate whiteness.

    Marc Anthony, Ricky Martin, and Thalia all released English-language crossover albums, catering to the US pop market. Puerto Rican actor Freddie Prinze Jr. has spoken about how rare leading roles written exclusively for Latines were at the time. Now, given the current acceptance of Latinidad, he’s more open than ever about how proud he is of his heritage. And to hear him talk today is to hear a more authentic person stripped down, complete with all the twangs and inflections code-switching so often tries to cover up. You can hear it in this interview he gave to “The Talk” while on a press tour.

    But it’s not just Prinze. Recently, a video of Mario Lopez eating some food with a friend went viral for the candid nature of his speech. When I was younger, my parents and I would watch the actor on “Access Hollywood,” and the way he talked always felt performative to me. Seeing this side of Lopez in this footage, however, was refreshing. It’s nice to know that deep down, at his most relaxed, he’s just another homie. Now, that’s not to say that code-switching is always performative. Personally, I’ve always thought of being able to code-switch as a resource, one that allows me not to blend in but to be understood by people who normally wouldn’t understand me.

    Over the years, I’ve developed a plurality of accents. I’ve got my Nuyorican accent that comes out when I’m around my family and cousins. Then there’s my Puerto Rican accent that comes out when I’m on the island, stretching the syllables of English-language words so that they fit into Spanish. And then there’s my academic side that comes to the table prepared with his $20 words. Years ago, I used to think that having these sides to me made me fake and that I wasn’t really Latine or Caribbean enough. But now I’m realizing that everyone’s authenticity is different and being Latine doesn’t mean being one thing. I’m reminded of the great Desi Arnaz, who never downplayed his heavy Cuban accent. For Arnaz, authenticity became an asset, and it’s no wonder that he was the first Latine to cohost an English-language television show in the US. I see parallels to him in Salma Hayek and Vergara, two amazing actors in their own rights who have always embraced their accents and whose stocks have risen because of it.

    On the opposite end of the spectrum you have Latines like John Leguizamo, whose heavy New York City accent made it easy for casting agents to offer him stereotypical roles like junkies and criminals. But rather than taking on those roles or code-switching, he simply owned it and carved his own path through Hollywood, even getting the chance to deliver Shakespearean prose in his trademark accent as Tybalt in Baz Luhrmann’s “Romeo + Juliet.”

    Today the groundwork that these Latine icons have laid has set the tone for many of us to reclaim our authenticity and do away with code-switching. Sometimes that looks like speaking with our true accents or using the vocabulary that comes most naturally to us. But we also see it in the way many of us have stopped anglicizing our names or are more willing to express ourselves in Spanish or Spanglish. For example, I love the way Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez pronounces her name every time she introduces herself, even though Spanish isn’t her first language. I love the way Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal break down their full names in this interview with Wired because it shows that our Latinidad is something we always carry with us.

    At the end of the day, being Latine means being part of a group for which no one size fits all. And I’m glad to see that we’re no longer feeling as much pressure to squeeze ourselves inside boxes that strip us of our sazón, whatever flavor that may be.

    Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.

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    Miguel Machado

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  • How I’m Navigating White Hollywood and the Pressure to Conform

    How I’m Navigating White Hollywood and the Pressure to Conform

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    Danny Martinez
    Danny Martinez

    I make a living acting in the machine known as Hollywood — an industry that commodifies me but isn’t for me. An industry where if I am using my hands too much on camera, the director shouts in all seriousness, “Not so much of the ethnic hands!” “White hands, Chris, white hands,” I whisper to myself while smiling.

    By the way — that is a true story.

    The essence of what I do is put myself in spaces where I must be chosen, where I must be selected as worthy enough to portray this thing. Beyond the ability to act, a large portion has to do with whether I am physically and aesthetically appealing, and pleasing enough to a certain gaze. When you make a living off your desirability, is the power of your body ever just yours? My body has been turned into an object of desire by whiteness, and as long as the main decision-makers and check signers in Hollywood are white bodies, then I must be desirable to and for them.

    This is why I always say that it is nice to receive fat checks (I have rent to pay), but nothing changes until I and people who look like me are signing them. In my opinion, this is the other side of the same coin of being seen as worthless. Because if I am not desirable in some way, then I am worthless. And I fear that if I am too radically different from what they have already deemed acceptable, then I might lose whatever status I have already worked so hard to achieve. I just might not survive.

    I made a film about this for The New York Times in 2020. The film was about the paradox of “making it” in Hollywood: to succeed, you need to stand out from the crowd while assimilating to whiteness. You have to strive to be yourself while fitting in. And if you aspire to be like one of those leading men you grew up watching on TV, well, you better look the part. Step one: calm those curls.

    This was in 2020 — the whispering of change was all around us. With the George Floyd protests, people seemed to have gotten the message: there’s a problem and the old ways are not working. Companies and Hollywood started talking about diversity and hiring DEI professionals, and guess what — it didn’t do much of anything.

    While there’s been a lot of talk, progress has been modest at best. According to a 2020 Pew Research report, Latines accounted for half the US population growth between 2010 and 2019 and made up 18 percent of the population (this has since increased). When will we get to see our nation’s diversity reflected on our screens?

    I guess until that happens we are forced to fit their model. I’d love to tell you I am 100 percent past caring what they think, but that itch of wondering if I am physically code-switching enough is always in me. I have been a series regular on a network television show. This is a difficult feat for a Dominican, Colombian Brown boy from Queens, and still, in the moments when I am not actively working, I question my own body before the system. I wonder whether I should take all those drug dealer, criminal, day player roles that are still so prominent on our screens.

    We live in a world where bodies of culture are constantly asked to give up parts of ourselves in order to move forward. This isn’t new information but it’s worth reiterating. Black and Latine actors are constantly forced to change themselves.

    This is our fight — the fight of loving and being ourselves.

    This is our fight — the fight of loving and being ourselves. We fight to love and embrace our curls, our skin tones, and our ethnic features in a world that sells us the idea that simply being ourselves is not good enough. It’s a world that sells us the NoseSecret tool, often advertised as “plastic surgery without the surgery.” It is a plastic tubing that you manually insert and force into your nose to create a narrower, thinner, and more pointed shape. At only $25, it’s a steal!

    We consider those who commit self-harm a danger to themselves and to society. We criminalize that act. But what about self-hate? Who is there to protect us from all the pretending we do for someone else’s gaze?

    When I told my pops I wanted to play pretend for a living, that I wanted to be an actor, that I wanted to go to Hollywood, he said, “It’s gonna be tough, but look the part. Pretend. Fake it till you make it.”

    I have pretended. But at what cost? I kept my hair short and I got the nose job my first manager told me to get. And it worked. I worked a lot more. That’s the sad part about all of this. What gets me is when I still hear white actors saying things like, “You’re so lucky. You’re Latin, everyone wants you right now. I’m just white. I got nothing.” Or the man I bought a piano bench from on Craigslist who said to me, “It’s great they’re looking for more minorities, but now I can’t get a role, you know?”

    I took a scriptwriting class, and what I learned is a bit disheartening. The longevity of a show is built on the idea that its characters can never really change. For the most part, lead characters need to remain self-sabotaging and can never truly grow because then the show would change. Execs don’t like change. This is what we are shoving into people’s brains — that we are meant to be stuck in cycles. That we are meant to be trapped by our delusions, poor habits, old stories, old clichés, old abuses, old dogmas, old oppressions, and that that’s OK. But it’s not.

    We must begin to ask ourselves: What images and stories have been placed deep into our minds around race and humanity, rights and fairness? What narratives have we been fed since the day we were born? For so long, Hollywood has denied people of color any depth, authenticity, and meaning because the only way you make a thousand movies a year is if you have a certain level of automation, and cliché stereotypes are part of that automation. Think about what would happen to the industry if it actually produced films that were nuanced, complex, and honest.

    Imagine if every script session started with: “Does this story help bring humanity into that space? Does this story marginalize an already marginalized community? Is this story true? Does this person have to be white? Does this story represent society and race and class in an honest way? Does this story help us see and imagine a new, more cooperative and loving world?”

    This reimagining must begin behind the camera first because we can’t be authentic in our storytelling if we’re not being honest about who is telling these stories. Casting up front will not change who is signing the checks.

    I need Hollywood to make it commonplace and ordinary, not extraordinary. I’d like to see a Brown “When Harry Met Sally,” or an Afro-Dominican futurist fantasy with a bachata score, an Indian and Puerto Rican bromance buddy comedy, two second-generation South Asian kids saving the planet, a meet-cute romance drama about two young Cambodian American kids in college, and all where the Brown leads are just hanging out and talking and not making everything about race. Imagine if that was just commonplace, not exceptional, not a big deal, not the reason to make the movie — it just was.

    William Blake called imagination the “divine vision.” It involves all the senses, it involves everything: the body, the speech, and the mind. I believe in the media’s power to start showing me something divinely different, so we can begin to imagine a new future. Television used to be a sign of everything that wanted to erase me, and now I have been a series regular on a Fox sitcom called “Call Me Kat” — curls and all. To be on TV, a medium I watched with so much awe as a child, feels pretty amazing. Though I must continue to ask: Am I just a guest who can be uninvited as quickly as he was brought in? Or am I an equal?

    My goal has always been to use Hollywood as a vehicle for getting to a place where I could create the art I wanted to create, say the things I wanted to say, and hopefully help uplift others in telling their stories. It’s nice to receive checks, but the real power is in being able to sign those checks, and nothing changes until the people signing checks begin to look a lot different, and a little less like old, straight, white males.

    It’s not about checking boxes and making sure people of color are cast. It’s about honoring the stories that allow these people to be so magnanimous and so worthy of being more than a device for your small-minded white stories.

    It’s not about checking boxes and making sure people of color are cast. It’s about honoring the stories that allow these people to be so magnanimous and so worthy of being more than a device for your small-minded white stories. If we looked beyond checking boxes and actually began telling stories that represent what culture is, we might begin to see that.

    Today, my relationship with code-switching has evolved significantly since that 2020 video. I’ve made a conscious decision to embrace and rock the natural texture of my curls unapologetically. Which is to say I have chosen and keep choosing to be myself. I need reminders of this, but it’s my baseline, where I come home to. If I change, it’s because a role that is honestly representative of society asks me to — not because some tired plotline needs another reformed gangbanger.

    To my fellow Latines and people of color in Hollywood: stay vocal and assertive about boundaries and the representation you wish to see. Create your own art and tell your own stories. Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter. This is why the lion must write.

    And try not to just talk about supporting each other and breaking down barriers; actually put your money where your mouth is (you know who you are). Just because there are Brown/Black bodies in the room does not mean we cannot perpetuate harmful systems of power as well, or that we are not capable of exclusion. Are we committed to anti-racist work in all the spaces, no matter how uncomfortable it may make us? By uplifting one another and evolving who signs the checks, we can create a more inclusive and truthful representation of us. We can pave the way for future generations to see themselves on screen without having to compromise who they are. And we all deserve spaces of belonging.

    The book of who we are is not a fixed text. It is flowing, it is fluid, it is expansive, we are shaping it, right here, right now.

    Christopher Rivas is the author of “Brown Enough,” an exploration of what it means to be Brown in a Black/white world. He also hosts two podcasts: “Brown Enough” and “Rubirosa.” On screen, Christopher is known for his work on the Fox series “Call Me Kat,” opposite Mayim Bialik. His latest book, “You’re a Good Swimmer,” is about the enchanting journey of conception without gendered terms and inclusive of all family dynamics.

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    Christopher Rivas

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  • Sophie Morgan On Hosting the Paralympics: “I’m an Advocate First” – POPSUGAR Australia

    Sophie Morgan On Hosting the Paralympics: “I’m an Advocate First” – POPSUGAR Australia

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    The Paris 2024 Paralympics are underway, and history is already being made. For one, the Games are providing more coverage than ever, with a record number of broadcasters covering all 22 sporting events live for the first time, per NBC. But additionally, NBCU’s Paralympics coverage is being led by hosts with disabilities for the first time ever. And while this may be a step that should have been taken years ago, it’s a move worth celebrating for all it means for disability representation.

    Sophie Morgan is one of the new faces of NBC’s coverage, but a familiar one to many UK households. Morgan first appeared on screen in 2004 as part of a BBC reality TV series, and has been a TV host and commentator since 2012, when she had a small presenter role for Channel 4’s 2012 Summer Paraympics in London. Her segue into sports broadcasting came into full force at the Rio 2016 Paralympic Games, and she has been a mainstay on British sports screens since then.

    Morgan’s career as a TV host and sports commentator has been long and accomplished – but prior to booking her first job, she never thought the profession was an option for her, a young wheelchair user, simply because she’d never seen an example of someone else doing it.

    “When I was first injured at 18, I didn’t know any other young disabled women. I hadn’t been exposed to many wheelchair users, so I was really in the dark about what was possible for me, which was harmful,” Morgan tells PS. “I now know how important it is to have representation of disabled people because I’ve lived in a world where for so long I felt like I was so out of place.” When she was starting out in TV, she hoped to be that example of representation she was missing.

    Now Morgan is stepping onto her biggest stage yet, covering the Paralympics for NBCU as part of the historic team with Lacey Henderson and Chris Waddell. Together they bring with them a wealth of lived experience of disability that many hosts who aren’t disabled simply do not have. Morgan believes this will add unique value to their commentating – and many para-athletes, viewers, and fans of parasports agree.

    Related: Paralympians Earn the Same Pay For Medals as Olympians, but Is It Enough?

    Why Representation in Sports Broadcasting Matters

    While people with disabilities aren’t a monolith and have different perspectives and experiences, in general people who understand what it’s like to have a disability are familiar with the common pitfalls those without disabilities run into when reporting on parasports. For instance, nondisabled people often have, “a fear they’re going to say something offensive or wrong,” Morgan says. “That’s a human instinct. No one wants to upset anyone intentionally and when it comes to disability, because there’s not much exposure to it, often someone might be trying to say something nice, but it will come across as offensive, patronizing, pitying, or really, let’s call it ableist.”

    Avid parasports watcher Kathryn (who asked to be identified by first name only) tells PS: “It doesn’t always, but having disabled people commentating can limit how much of the superhuman, inspiration porn narrative [is] shared,” referring to an ableist trope in which people with disabilities are objectified to motivate or inspire people without disabilities.

    This year some of the world’s most talented Paralympic champions, including sprinter Amber Sabatini and wheelchair tennis champion Gustavo Fernandez, have co-signed a social media campaign that challenges another ableist habit that’s affected how people talk about the Paralympic Games: the tendency to refer to the athletes as “participants” and not “competitors.” Morgan refers to this disparity as “offensive” for “implicitly assuming within . . . tone that [para-athletes are] any less than their counterparts.”

    “A Paralympian will most often train the same number of hours as an Olympian – and they most certainly put in the same level of effort, dedication (and pain),” notes Eleanor Robinson, a retired Paralympic swimmer for Team Great Britain. “To suggest that they are putting their bodies through blood sweat and tears for the joy of ‘participation’ and inclusion greatly diminishes their feats of sporting prowess. A Paralympian competes for the same reasons as an Olympian – to win and taste success.”

    Not only are hosts with disabilities less likely to repeat these harmful ideas; they’re also well-positioned to call them out when they hear them from others. As Morgan says, “I’m an advocate first and foremost, so I love to lean into conversations around language and attitudes and societal models and perceptions – the bigger themes.” And she’s not afraid to have those conversations on screen.

    Another reason representation is so important is that, as Robinson tells PS: “The presence of disabled people on screen aids our collective familiarization of impairments and all body types. The more familiar we are with the uniqueness and variation of the human anatomy – and disconnect ourselves from ideas about the ‘typical body’ – the less anatomy and aesthetics matter.”

    Looking Beyond Representation

    Morgan’s desire for better representation of disability in media encouraged her to keep pursuing TV roles, even as she faced numerous barriers, such as being boxed into covering only topics that explicitly related to being disabled.

    But Morgan knows representation alone isn’t enough. So in 2023 she partnered with Disability Rights advocate Keely Cat-Wells to found Making Space Media, a division of the talent acquisition and learning platform Making Space. The platform aims to serve as an antidote to the obvious lack of screen time people with disabilities receive in mainstream media by creating secure and sustainable employment opportunities for disabled talent.

    Morgan is also leading a talent training program developed as part of a partnership between Making Space and NBC. “We trained up the talent with the hope that they would be cast in the Games and a number of them have been,” she says. But the plan is for Paris to just be the beginning. NBC and Making Space are collaborating to produce more disabled hosts, analysts, and play-by-play sportscasters across sports media as a whole.

    Many hope that the Paris Paralympics will prove that attitudes are changing for good. Matt Scott, a retired Paralympian and now a NBC reporter in Paris, sees the improving coverage of parasports as evidence that although society “has had a misinformed and misguided belief that disability equals inability, [it now] has had no choice but to reconsider the preconceived notions and accept more inclusivity in every industry, including mainstream media.”

    Morgan also hopes that this year’s commitment to increased coverage is a trend that continues. “They have put these Games on the sidelines and then get surprised that there aren’t many people watching it,” Morgan says, drawing comparisons to the experience of women’s professional sports in the past. “This frustrates me about television. People fall back on that notion – but why would they watch if it’s buried on a channel that doesn’t get the same marketing budget and promotion? It’s not about the sport, it’s about the way it’s positioned.”

    And although Paris is still in full swing, Morgan already has her eye on the LA Games in 2028, and is excited about what it can do for the disability conversation in the US. “LA is one of the most influential cities globally, and Hollywood is the storyteller of the world,” she says. “The way we can change perceptions around disability is through storytelling. So we have got the perfect ingredients, we just need the recipe for change.”

    Related: What Happens If You’re Not “Disabled Enough” For the Paralympics?

    Hannah Turner is a disabled writer and journalist living with complex chronic illnesses. Her writing focuses on disability, anti-wellness culture, and pop culture. Her words have appeared in many places, including PS, Refinery29, Mashable, and Dazed.

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    Hannah turner

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  • Tell Me Más: Elsa y Elmar Gets Candid About Mental Health and How It Impacted Her Album “PALACIO”

    Tell Me Más: Elsa y Elmar Gets Candid About Mental Health and How It Impacted Her Album “PALACIO”

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    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine celebs to share some inside info about their lives and some of the ways they are prioritizing their mental health. This month, we spoke with Colombian rising star Elsa y Elmar about dealing with burnout, safeguarding her mental health, and how all this impacted the process of creating her latest album, “PALACIO.”

    Elsa Margarita Carvajal is no stranger to success. Better known by her stage name, Elsa y Elmar, the Latin Grammy-nominated singer has been making waves in the music scene for more than a decade. But with her latest album “PALACIO” releasing on August 30th, and on the brink of hitting the road for her biggest tour yet, Carvajal is poised to reach a whole new level. To reach that level once meant putting in many years on the indie circuit and playing solo in bars trying to connect to people who had never heard of her. And even though her unknown indie artist days are behind her, the singer admits that the pressure remains. Carvajal says that pressure can be both good and bad. On the one hand it can push artists to achieve bigger and better things, reaching the levels previously reached by their idols.

    But on the other hand, the constant pressure to push for more and compare oneself to their peers or those who came before can be detrimental from a mental health perspective. The songstress says that she sometimes found herself in a constant state of work, thinking about what more she can do. This led her to take a much needed break to recharge after her last album “Ya No Somos Los Mismos.” However, in the intervening two years, the singer-songwriter has learned valuable lessons about self-care, understanding when she needs to be “on” and when she needs to take time for herself. From this mentality and two years of no labels and A&Rs asking her for new music or what she was going to do next, Carvajal was able to bounce back from her bout of burnout with her new disc “PALACIO.” The album is the first to be released on her new label, Elmar Presenta, and tackles various challenges many of us deal with on a daily basis. In a recent interview, she sat down with PS to talk about mental health and creative pressures and dive into some of the sentiments behind the project.

    PS: You’re about to perform in your biggest venue ever. How does it feel getting to this point in your career?

    Elsa y Elmar: You know, it’s really interesting because all the odds were against me. I’m not from that generation of women in pop like Belenova, Julieta Venegas, and Natalia Lafourcade. And I’m also not an urbano artist. I’m an artist that, since day one, the people I’d work with would say, “I don’t know where you fit in. I don’t know how to explain [your sound], whether you’re indie or alternative.”

    PS: What are some things that might surprise people about the reality of being a professional musician?

    Elsa y Elmar: It’s physically and mentally taxing and requires a lot of patience . . . I feel like I’m always on.

    PS: How have you learned to balance the pressure to be creative with the need to turn off and indulge in self-care?

    Elsa y Elmar: I try to take maximum advantage of the periods when I’m feeling most creative and make as many ideas, songs, and videos as I can because I know at any given moment, there’s going to be a dry spell. But I also try to take advantage of that time when I’m not feeling as creative, and not stress, trusting that the creativity will return.

    PS: What were some of the factors that led to your two-year hiatus?

    Elsa y Elmar: I was tired of the bureaucracy, of the expectations, of working with the big labels, of just chasing the carrot. I decided that if I was going to chase any carrot, it was going to be my carrot.

    PS: The album is filled with songs that tackle real-life issues. But maybe the song that has attracted the most attention so far is “Entre Las Piernas,” a song celebrating menstruation. What inspired you to tackle a topic that, to some, is still considered taboo?

    Elsa y Elmar: Being honest, the subject hadn’t really crossed my mind as song-worthy, until one day it just hit me that half of the population of the planet bleeds once a month. And even today in 2024 it’s a subject that’s still taboo, that still grosses people out, and we’re not supposed to talk about…and I just thought “thousands of love songs have been written and no one’s written about this topic that’s so common?”

    PS: On another standout on the album, you apply incredible sensitivity to the “mini heartbreak” of being left on read with the song “Visto” — a uniquely digital problem that the singer manages to make feel timeless. Why did you think something as simple as being ignored via text can be so painful?

    Elsa y Elmar: I mean, obviously there are legitimate reasons that people get left on read . . . but what I’m talking about in the song is when you’re being vulnerable with someone and they leave you on read, and that feels horrible, to not understand why the other side of the conversation rather than communicate what they feel, eliminates the possibility of communication and leaves you with a mountain of questions and self-doubt.

    PS: Lastly, for those who might be going through what you’ve passed through in the last two years — heartbreak, pressure to create, being left on read — can you give them any advice on how you kept yourself centered?

    Elsa y Elmar: The other day I was listening to a little chat and [heard something] that struck me as very beautiful. If a problem has a solution, it’s no problem. And if it doesn’t have a solution, it’s no problem.

    Whether it’s her interviews or her work, Carvajal’s vulnerability comes across effortlessly. And yet, she also understands that for many of us, vulnerability is a challenge in these modern times. But if she’s learned anything over the past two years, it’s that in order to make space for love, work, or anything else, we first have to make space for ourselves, make space for ourselves in our “PALACIO.”

    “PALACIO” drops on August 30th.

    Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.

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  • J Balvin Needed Time to Rest and Reinvent Himself — Then Came “Rayo”

    J Balvin Needed Time to Rest and Reinvent Himself — Then Came “Rayo”

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    About a year ago, J Balvin, whose full name is José Álvaro Osorio Balvín, told PS why he took a year to prioritize his wellness and focus on his family. The Colombian reggaetónero — who has become one of the biggest stars in musica urbano and the second most streamed Latin artist on Spotify — needed some time to recharge after the release of his 2021 album “JOSE.” And it looks like taking time to slow down and be present with his partner of six years, model Valentina Ferrer, and their 3-year-old son, Río, has paid off. His latest album, “Rayo,” reveals a newly energized Balvin. In this album, we see Balvin fall back in love with reggaetón, and reconnect with his younger self — the boy from Medellín who spearheaded the urbano sound in Colombia.

    In terms of taking time to shift gears, Balvin says, “I definitely think I needed it.” The artist has always been open about prioritizing his wellness and mental health and believes it’s exactly what he needed to feel ready to get back in the studio. “I needed to rest and focus on my family and my son,” he says. While Balvin might have paused in terms of working on a new album, he never stopped working altogether. “I was touring and doing festivals around the world. Not my own tour but I was touring in festivals, and it was great. It was beautiful,” he adds. “But now that we are officially back with an album, it’s a totally different vibe because I did this album without any pressure. I just went to the studio and had fun.”

    “I needed to rest and focus on my family and my son.”

    Balvin says that spending time with his family and just living life without the pressure of recording an album gave him a major creative boost. In just four months after returning to the studio, he recorded dozens of songs. “I was just going into the studio to do music. One day we were like, ‘Oh, we got like 40 songs — we might have an album,’” he says. “That was the beautiful thing about this album. I didn’t plan to make an album.”

    And it’s true, “Rayo” is a reflection of how far Balvin has come. The word rayo translates to lightning, the name of his first car back when he lived in his hometown of Medellín as an emerging artist. Much like its title, the album is very much about Balvin returning to his essence. The artist says he went into it less concerned about streams and how it would perform and more dedicated to having fun in the studio, making music that excited him like in the early days of his career.

    As he explains it, the album’s name “reminds me of when I had my first car that my dad gave me with so much love and a lot of effort because we were going through a bad economic situation. But that car paved the way for me. We both paved the way in Colombia opening a new market of reggaetón. I used to sell my CDs in the truck and in the clubs and different concerts.”

    The album consists of songs like “Lobo” with Zion, which radiates 2010s reggaetón vibes. Tracks like “Swat, “Gangster, “Gaga” featuring Saiko, “Origami” with Ryan Castro and Blessd, and the hit single “Polvo de tu Vida” with Puerto Rican reggaetónero OG Chencho Corleone are sure to become club bangers this season. Balvin also included a few of his signature melodic tracks where he shows off his vocal skills, like “Cosa de Locos” and “3 Noches.”

    “It’s modern, but I didn’t lose my DNA,” Balvin says.

    One thing that’s also been a throughline of Balvin’s life is spearheading community initiatives. In 2022, he was honored at the United Nations Latino Impact Summit for his commitment to helping break the stigma around mental health issues that exists in the Latine community. He has also continued to dedicate himself to his Vibra en Alta foundation, which provides education and support for the Colombian youth. So it only makes sense that he recently partnered with Cheetos as their newest ambassador for their ongoing “Deja tu Huella” campaign, which supports young Latines in pursuing their career dreams.

    “We want to help the new generations to be better and guide them the right way, because there’s a lot of wasted talent that they just don’t know where to go,” he says. “And we’d like to super-serve them and tell them we’re going to help you with your dream, and that’s what we’re here for.”

    This October, Balvin will headline Billboard’s Latin Music Week while also introducing Cheetos’s latest Deja tu Huella ambassador. The ambassador will have the opportunity to hit the road on a three-stop community college tour and be provided with resources to support them throughout their studies and career.

    While Balvin might be returning to his own roots with this new album, empowering younger artists is always a key goal. “I’m happy to be there and share my point of view of music right now and what I think might be the future sound and, of course, keep introducing the new generation in music,” he says. “It’s been part of my DNA to work with new talent and if I can help them to have more exposure. I just do it with love and not thinking about someone [having] to give me back.”

    Balvin has clearly poured into himself, his family, and his community — an act that has revitalized him. Now, with his latest album, Balvin seems more alive and ready to reinvent himself than ever before. As one of the pioneers who paved the way for the reggaetón wave in Colombia, he has not only cemented his own legacy as a leyenda within the genre but also made room for the next generation.

    “I feel, of course, more mature and more connected with myself and really embracing and grateful for what we’ve done for the culture,” he says. “I know that I don’t have to prove myself anymore. It’s more about having fun.”

    Johanna Ferreira is the content director for PS Juntos. With more than 10 years of experience, Johanna focuses on how intersectional identities are a central part of Latine culture. Previously, she spent close to three years as the deputy editor at HipLatina, and she has freelanced for numerous outlets including Refinery29, Oprah magazine, Allure, InStyle, and Well+Good. She has also moderated and spoken on numerous panels on Latine identity.

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  • Back-to-School Fashion Taught Me an Important Lesson on Disrupting Stereotypes

    Back-to-School Fashion Taught Me an Important Lesson on Disrupting Stereotypes

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    PS Photography | Jessica Andrews
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    PS Photography | Jessica Andrews

    On many a frantic morning in my teenage years, my mother would yell upstairs from the kitchen for me to get dressed faster. “School isn’t a fashion show,” she’d say. Little did she know, the hallowed halls of my high school were indeed a runway — and my getting-ready process simply could not be rushed. Each day had a sartorial theme that I had painstakingly planned for weeks, even months.

    One week, I embraced my newfound love for purple and wore a lavender-hued outfit each day. Another time, I discovered Baby Phat and wanted to be among the first to wear it to school. The cat pranced on the back of my bubble coat as I sauntered from class to class.

    This newfound hobby only intensified on the first day back to school. For me, back-to-school outfits set the tone for the entire year, serving as a visual marker of one’s evolution. With my first-day-of-school ‘fit, I was presenting a new me who was cooler and more put-together than the year before.

    After landing a job at Aldo, along with a 50-percent employee discount, I kicked off senior year with a deep-red handbag and matching knee-high boots paired with a cream sweater dress. I needed my outfit to signal maturity — I was 16 and had joined the workforce after all.

    On the first day of sophomore year, I added a feminine twist to the preppy trend that would go on to define my generation. I walked into homeroom wearing a purple wrap dress with a striped scarf casually tossed around my neck, matching with my three best friends of course. That outfit sent the message that I was tapped in enough to know the trends shaping the zeitgeist, but creative enough to make them my own. Meanwhile, my friends and I, pictured below at the homecoming dance, were cementing ourselves as fashion girls (a family member had even affectionately named us the “Glam Squad”).

    PS Photography | Jessica Andrews

    Still, my mother was right: I was in school to learn. My priority should’ve been classes like Creative Writing, Spanish, and (to my dismay) Algebra. I was not there to show off my latest purchases from the local mall. But style was a lesson of sorts for me.

    As fate would have it, I’d fall deeply in love with fashion during that time and go on to work as a fashion editor at women’s lifestyle magazines. In fact, my current getting-ready process for New York Fashion Week closely resembles those frenzied mornings as a teenager, down to the weeks of outfit planning and last-minute, day-of changes.

    Trends have shifted, faded, and returned, but what’s endured is my personal approach to style. As a teen, I knew intrinsically that fashion was deeply intertwined with identity. I was still discovering myself, yet at every turn, I was met with labels: my peers saw me as fun and friendly but very much a nerd; my teachers saw a talented writer and dancer with insurmountable stage fright; my guidance counselor saw a Black girl who was “overly ambitious” and wouldn’t get into a top college — and said as much.

    Yet I knew who I was and yearned to define myself on my own terms. Fashion helped.

    When I put on my back-to-school outfit, it was a way to broadcast my self image to the world. I wasn’t the anxious girl who was fighting doubts being projected onto me — I was powerful and chic and full of creativity and promise.

    Years later, I settled into that grand vision of myself. I made it into a great college and worked my way up the ranks in fashion; I finally overcame my fear of public speaking; and though I am still very much a nerd, for the first time in my life, I kind of like it.

    But long before I became this person, I dressed the part.

    NEW YORK, NEW YORK - FEBRUARY 16: A guest is seen wearing multi colored button up top, black leather skirt, white coat, orange black bag, knee high boots outside Collina Strada during New York Fashion Week on February 16, 2022 in New York City. (Photo by NEW YORK, NEW YORK - FEBRUARY 16: A guest is seen wearing multi colored button up top, black leather skirt, white coat, orange black bag, knee high boots outside Collina Strada during New York Fashion Week on February 16, 2022 in New York City. (Photo by
    Getty Images | Christian Vierig

    I continue to use fashion as a tool of self expression — and as a Black woman, it serves me well. When I put on a bright color, and it pops against my complexion, I’m showing my love for my deep skin tone despite beauty standards that still worship whiteness.

    When I slip on a floral-print, puff-shouldered dress and sparkling metallic heels, I’m leaning into a soft, feminine aesthetic as a Black, career woman who is often branded as “strong” and “hard” when frankly, I don’t want to be.

    When I step out to the Met Gala or the CFDA Awards with braids cascading down my back, I’m disrupting the myth that box braids are somehow not fancy enough for formal events. How can a style that’s such a sacred part of my culture, that’s so intricate and innovative not warrant a place on the red carpet?

    Those days getting ready for school taught me a valuable style — and life — lesson about identity. Now, years later, I’m still dressing in a way that feels authentic to me with no regard for society’s labels. And I’m still taking way too long to get ready.

    Jessica C. Andrews (she/her) is the senior content director of Shopping and PS UK. With more than 15 years of experience, her areas of expertise include fashion, shopping, and travel. Prior to joining PS, Jessica held senior roles at Teen Vogue, Refinery29, and Bustle and contributed to The New York Times, Elle, Vanity Fair, and Essence. She’s appeared on “Good Morning America,” NBC, and Fox 5 New York and spoken on various panels about fashion, hair, and Black culture.

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  • El Teteo Is Creating Unity Amongst Latines While Celebrating Our Culture

    El Teteo Is Creating Unity Amongst Latines While Celebrating Our Culture

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    I have a deep yearning for uniting people. I believe that one of my purposes in this life is to bring people together in a way that transcends status, class, and occupation, creating a space where everyone feels truly united and understood. That’s why in 2022, I decided to launch my first El Teteo party in Los Angeles, driven by a longing for something that reminded me of my home in NYC.

    I was feeling homesick and needed to feel connected to my roots and my community. El Teteo serves as an extension of what I was taught: to find moments of joy through pain, troubles, and hard work. For me, community is about gathering with the people you love and care for, no matter where you are — whether that’s getting together with beach chairs in front of a building or plastic chairs at a park under a bridge. Teteo, which is a Dominican slang word for partying and gathering anywhere, suggests that when it comes to community, all you need is good music, good company, and some beers — and, in some cases, food. It’s all about sharing moments that aren’t guaranteed tomorrow, and it’s something that’s very much embedded in Latine culture.

    As a New Yorker, I found myself missing my city and its vibrant club scenes and dance parties. At almost every party and club I’d been to in Los Angeles, people stood around with a drink in hand instead of getting on the dance floor. Through El Teteo, I wanted to bring the East Coast vibe to the West Coast, raise awareness about Latine Caribbean culture, and foster community. As New Yorkers, we experience different cultures like a melting pot. Not only do I get to share other people’s cultures, but I also introduce others to mine.

    As an unapologetically proud Dominican American, I yearned for our presence to be felt here in Los Angeles, where it felt like there weren’t many of us. Moving to LA made me acutely aware of the lack of representation of Dominicans and Caribbean Latines. It was a culture shock. People were often shocked when I spoke in Spanish. Not many folks in Los Angeles were familiar with the Dominican community or Dominican culture overall.

    So I kicked off my first El Teteo party on February 26, 2022, to celebrate Dominican Independence Day in Los Angeles. I partnered with Angela Carrasco, a Dominican American realtor in Los Angeles, and Dominican American actress and host Katherine Castro, who both had ties to a venue. Our event reached new heights of success as 600 people gathered to participate. People even traveled from New York to be part of the unforgettable experience.

    These parties have been more than just a big fun event; they’ve become a place for Latine creatives, particularly those in media and entertainment, to network and build community. The success of the parties is measured by the joy and connection they bring. It’s a space where Latindad looks different from what the West Coast is used to.

    As a Dominican American, I’ve faced challenges in auditions because Hollywood often expects Latinas to be light-skinned mestizas with straight dark hair, overlooking the diversity within our community. Afro-Latina Caribbeans are still considered “other” or “not Latina enough” in Hollywood. But these events feature Dominican music, artists, and cultural elements like hookah, creating a cultural hub in LA that showcases our rich heritage and fosters representation in a city that often overlooks us.

    At the first Teteo, we had Latines in entertainment from TV shows like “Insecure,” “On My Block,” “Gentefied,” “Station 19 “and “How I Met Your Father” attend. It was a dream come true because people who look like us don’t move to Hollywood often, and for Latines, being engaged in community plays a big part when it comes to our mental health. I often hear stories of Caribbean actors, directors, producers, and screenwriters who leave Los Angeles because they can’t find community. I wanted to bridge that gap within the Latine diaspora, from Mexicans to Dominicans. My goal was to foster the representation lacking in Hollywood, making our voices heard in the actual city of Hollywood.

    The pain of Hollywood has been constantly trying to fit into a mold that asks you to erase parts of yourself, only to be rejected. Despite this pain and uncertainty, one thing they can’t take away from me is joy. That’s why Teteo was born, out of a desire to challenge the narrative that we don’t exist and to celebrate every facet of who we are, including our humanity and the gift of life. Dominican culture is often celebrated without proper recognition, from viral dembow songs to James Bond being inspired by Porfirio Rubirosa, to bachata being sung in different languages across the globe. Yet, despite these cultural contributions, we are often overlooked in the larger Latine conversation. Executives often don’t invest in us because they don’t believe we exist. However, seeing diverse crowds at Juan Luis Guerra and Romeo Santos concerts made me question why we aren’t part of the broader conversation.

    I see El Teteo as a moment and a movement that has inspired a new Caribbean ecosystem in LA. It puts Caribbean and Afro-Latino culture at the forefront without relying on executives and investors who aren’t interested in us. I wanted to create a space where our presence and culture is acknowledged and celebrated. El Teteo has carved its path by spreading joy and awareness of our vibrant culture, created by us for all to enjoy.

    This summer, I’m inspired to bring El Teteo to NYC and make it a global event in an effort to elevate Latine culture and put Dominicans on the map worldwide. I also wanted to use El Teteo as an opportunity to give back to the Dominican community. We are partnering with the Dream Project to support educational opportunities for Dominican youth. It was important for us to create something that not only brings joy but also gives back to people in need.

    The Dominican spirit is more than just NYC and my island. It’s a way of life and a subculture celebrated by many. It’s about taking the positive parts of my culture and sharing them with the world. Like my father says, you never know when God will call you, so enjoy the life you have today. My hope is to bring this joy worldwide through my culture, to elevate and celebrate the community, and to create the representation we’re not seeing — all through community gatherings.

    Sasha Merci is a first-generation Dominican American actor, comedian, and viral digital creator. She showcases over a decade of diverse experience in entertainment with roles in films like “Righteous Thieves” and “De Lo Mio,” along with collaborations with renowned brands such as Target and Bumble. She shares her Bronx roots and passion for Latine culture by being vocal about mental health and navigating comedy.

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  • 10 Black Authors Share Their Favorite Books by Fellow Black Writers

    10 Black Authors Share Their Favorite Books by Fellow Black Writers

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    “A Hungry Heart: A Memoir” ($19, originally $22)

    “Now, if I were to tell you that Gordon Parks has written at least three autobiography-memoir mashups, you’d probably ask, ‘Why?’ And I would say, ‘Because this man has Lived,’ with a capital L. Parks was a groundbreaking photographer, film director, author, poet, composer — the very definition of reinvention without limits. Need I say more? OK, just a bit: ‘A Hungry Heart,’ Parks’s final memoir, chronicles the extraordinary life of a man who, from a young age, was on a mission to make his mark. It’s impossible to read this and not be in perpetual awe or turn the final page without finding your own heart hungrier for more.”

    — Mateo Askaripour, author of “Black Buck” and “This Great Hemisphere”

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  • I’m Making Sure My Latina Teen Prioritizes Her Mental Health Ahead of Senior Year – POPSUGAR Australia

    I’m Making Sure My Latina Teen Prioritizes Her Mental Health Ahead of Senior Year – POPSUGAR Australia

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    I’ve been mentally preparing for this moment since my daughter was born: the day she would leave the nest and venture out on her own. But there was nothing to prepare me for how quickly this time would arrive. It feels like we fast-forwarded through her childhood, and in the blink of an eye, she’s now 17 and enjoying the summer before her senior year of high school.

    I’ve always prioritized discussing mental health with my daughter. I introduced practices like journaling, affirmations, and meditation early on – only the latter never really quite stuck, but two out of three isn’t bad.

    But still, senior year is a uniquely stressful time. It’s when you’re on the cusp between childhood and adulthood, when life decisions are at the forefront. To be sure, it’s an exciting time, but also a very scary one filled with confusion, anxiety, and pressure to get things right.

    Related: Visiting the Dominican Republic as an Adult Helped Me Understand My Father’s Sacrifices

    To add to the stress, we also survived a global pandemic. Like many parents of Latine teens, I witnessed my daughter’s mental health suffer during the nearly two years she attended online school. Basically, her entire middle school years were completed through virtual classes. This took a huge toll on her, and she wasn’t alone. In 2020, Latinos For Education surveyed Latino families from three states about the ways COVID-19 affected their children, and mental health was a top concern. Not only did these families report witnessing a decline in their teens’ mental health like I did, but they too noticed a loss of socialization among their children.

    It was important for us to prioritize therapy for her, and she started online therapy as a freshman. It gave me a sense of peace and relief that my teen had an objective party to whom she could express her thoughts, ideas, and the challenges she faced. I felt good knowing she had an outlet who was not Mom, someone she could work with to make sure her mental health was in good shape. Therapy is something consistent in her life now, and without giving too many details, she’s expressed that she’s learned a lot of coping skills and confidence-building techniques, especially when it pertains to her communication with me. As her mom, I also work on being a better listener so I can support her more than just offering unsolicited motherly advice.

    Physical activity also plays a role in keeping her mentally healthy. As a child, we enjoyed evening walks after dinner. It was a beautiful time when we just talked about whatever came up. As she got older, her interest in our evening walks waned, but her desire to be physically active continued. She works out at the gym during the summer because it offers free admission to high schoolers, something she discovered on her own.

    This summer, she begins her third semester of college courses while also working part-time at an ice cream shop and preparing to enter her last year of high school. She’s expressed how stressful yet exciting this time in her life has been; she has watched as her older friends have entered college, and she’s well aware that she is next in line. I offer my support by asking questions about what she envisions her life to be and how she thinks she could get there. If her answer is that she doesn’t know, I let her know that that’s OK too, and that at 17, knowing everything is nearly impossible. In fact, even as an adult you learn new things.

    Before September, we’re planning to sit down and write a goals list for her senior year. We’ve done this nearly every school year, and we’ll hang the list on the fridge or somewhere visible so that it’s a reminder all year long. Even if she doesn’t reach every goal on the list, it’s likely that she already took the first steps to getting there, and that’s just as important.

    As we explore different colleges and universities, I support her in what she is looking for in a higher education institution and what she wants to study. And it can be difficult to teach independence as she prepares to live on her own for the first time, but thankfully, that’s something I’ve been teaching her since she was 5. I let her choose what clothes she wore, and I started letting her walk to the corner store by herself as a tween. By the time she reached 14, I was confident that my daughter could navigate this big city we live in on her own.

    While my daughter isn’t on a yoga mat with me or meditating every day, she has embraced many of the things I’ve taught her when it comes to prioritizing her mental health and loving herself. The self-love is still a work in progress, but I’m confident she’ll get there. In the meantime, she finds solace in her artwork, in laughing a lot, in expressing her deepest thoughts and emotions about life and the world, and in seeing the beauty in herself that I’ve seen all along.

    At 17, she still has a ways to go before truly swimming in the waters of adulthood. But she is well prepared, and as she spreads her wings to fly away from the nest, it is bittersweet. I remember the sweet little girl who would curl up on my lap and fall sound asleep. Now, she’s taller than me; she surpassed my shoe size years ago. Life is beautiful, and rainbows exist beyond the rain clouds. I pray she carries the lessons I’ve taught her with her as she enters this next phase of life, and discovers things along her path that make her journey all her own.

    Zayda Rivera is a POPSUGAR contributor. She has been a professional writer for more than 20 years. Z is a certified Reiki Master Teacher, a yoga and Zumba instructor, a mindfulness and meditation guide, a tarot reader, and a spiritual mentor.

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  • Tell Me Más: Moffa Shares How Being Adopted Has Influenced His Identity and His Music

    Tell Me Más: Moffa Shares How Being Adopted Has Influenced His Identity and His Music

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    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine celebs to share some inside info about their lives and some of the ways they are prioritizing their mental health. This month, we spoke with reggaetón artist Moffa on how being adopted by his Puerto Rican parents impacted his music, identity and the way he navigates the world.

    It’s impossible to talk about rising acts of reggaetón in 2024 without mentioning Moffa. The 22-year-old Puerto Rican artist has seen his star power grow at lightspeed over the last two years. In 2022, he was one of the lucky three young acts — along with Alejo and Jotaerre — who teamed up with megastar Karol G on the hit song “Un Viaje,” where he was personally flown out to Colombia to work on the track. Since then, he’s been dropping music nonstop with bangers like “Bentley Remix,” “Sussy,” “DAMMN,” and “0 Millas,” all surpassing millions in combined streams. His versatile flow and catchy lyricism have made other artists flock to him as well, from established stars like Manuel Turizo and paopao to O.G.s like Ñengo Flow.

    On July 18th, Moffa’s debut album finally made its debut. Titled “Playground,” the project reflects his unbridled enthusiasm and curiosity. As he puts it: “Even as an adult, I still feel like a child in lots of ways,” which in part inspired the LP’s name. Not only are the feelings and experiences he explores over its tracks his own personal playground of emotions, but as an artist, so is the variety of sounds he experiments with. The recording studio, and life itself are both his playground.

    For a long time, Moffa has been a person who keeps his cards close to his chest, never delving too much into his personal life. While he’s hinted in the past at his roots, he’s never spoken out about his backstory in great detail.

    Though born and raised in Puerto Rico, he is, in fact, adopted. Moffa is the Afro-Latino son of a Brazilian mother and Dominican father. His mother tragically passed away when he was still an infant, and he and his twin sister were taken in by his Puerto Rican godparents, whom he now considers his parents in full.

    In an exclusive chat with PS, Moffa talks about what it felt like to learn he was adopted, the struggle to reconcile with family members from his biological parent’s side, if he’s ever questioned his identity, how he taps into his roots, and more.

    The following quotes have been translated, edited, and condensed for clarity.

    PS: Where were you born and raised?

    Moffa: I was born in Puerto Rico, in Bayamón. I was raised in the metro area, but I traveled a lot to Isabela and Aguada because my family was from there, from the west side [of the island.] We’d go every weekend or every other weekend, so that’s why I feel I was raised on both sides.

    PS: When did you find out you and your sister were adopted?

    Moffa: I’ve known since I was little. My biological mother passed away when I was nine months old, from cancer, and I never met my biological father. And so, once she passed, [my godparents] adopted us and became my parents.They were friends with my mom since they were kids. They were all friends together. It wasn’t something that was hidden from us, thank God. They let us know that, yeah, we’re adopted. And people would’ve asked us anyway once they saw my mom and dad because we’re not the same color at all [laughs]. It would be very hard to convince anyone they’re my biological parents.

    PS: You said you became aware you were adopted from an early age. How would you describe the way you and your sister were raised by your parents; did they make sure this knowledge never weighed on you or affected you?

    Moffa: I think they were always transparent and never hid anything from us, at all. They were always straightforward about our background and history — our roots. And if we ever wanted to travel to those places and get to know them, they would support us and in fact encourage us to explore all the corners and spaces of our family that we didn’t know.

    PS: I know children can be cruel; were you ever bullied as a child because you looked different from your parents? How did you manage that, if so?

    Moffa: I wasn’t bullied, actually. Here in Puerto Rico, I feel like that kind of discrimination exists, but it’s not as strong these days. I think we should all be aware we’re all the same. I’m not and never will be different just because I’m adopted or have a different family.

    PS: Do you know anything about your biological parent’s family now? Have you had any contact or interaction with them? If so, how does it make you feel?

    Moffa: To this day, my family from Brazil has always kept an eye on me. They write to me over DMs sometimes, but it’s hard to communicate because I don’t speak [Portuguese,] so I’m using [translator apps] to write them back.

    I haven’t mentioned this publicly before, but a few days ago, my biological father actually ‘liked’ one of my social media posts. And it was, like, “Oh shit” because I’ve never met him. […] I’ve heard I might have seven siblings on my father’s side. It’s a difficult situation. You don’t want to look down on that person because you [exist] because of them. But since there’s no relationship there — no affection, no love — then you don’t know how to react or what to do. [They say] “We’re here if you need anything,” but the feeling isn’t there. It’s strange.

    PS: Do you have any curiosity about meeting them or any of your extended family members from that side?

    Moffa: Ehhh… for me, you’re really focused on your own things, y’know? You discover all this stuff, which thankfully was revealed to me when I was much younger. But I haven’t had that curiosity because you sort of feel like you’re cheating on your present family — people who dedicated their lives to me, who gave me a roof over my head. I don’t have a problem meeting [them,] that would be actually cool, but my family also deserves some respect.

    PS: When it comes to your identity, what kind of conversations have you had with other people or with yourself, for that matter? Now that you’re older, is that something you’ve grappled with?

    Moffa: Unfortunately, I don’t know a lot about Brazilian culture. I do know a bit about the history, but I’ve never visited to get to know the country fully. Neither the Dominican Republic nor Brazil. But to me, I am Puerto Rican, just with Brazilian and Dominican blood. I have a ton of family in Brazil, but I’m clear about my identity.

    PS: The last few years have heated up the conversation around cultural appropriation, even amongst Hispanics and Latinos, and whether they can make songs in genres that are historically and culturally associated with specific countries. You’re in a unique spot where you kind of have a hall pass for multiple genres. Have you ever considered doing a Brazilian funk or Dominican dembow?

    Moffa: Last year, I came out with my first Brazilian funk, produced by Young Martino and Hokage. It’s called “TOKO,” and I remember thinking exactly that. Like, “Can I really do this? Am I allowed?” I never felt like, “Oh, this is my birthright, and I must do it,” y’know? I wanted to experiment with it, and I love that sound. I can’t wait to go to one of their carnivals. I think that’s one of my biggest goals, to be able to go to a carnival in Brazil. It’s not just one of Brazil’s most popular events, but it’s famous worldwide, too.

    PS: Since your parents knew your mother for so long, I’m sure they’ve talked to you about her. Is there anything about her personality you think you have? Have you thought about how your life might have been different if she’d raised you?

    Moffa: From what I’ve been told, if she were still here, I probably wouldn’t [have the success] I have now in music. Both because of resources available [to her,] but also her character. I probably wouldn’t be in music. I probably would have been raised to be more studious and work in something more “proper” like a doctor or engineer. I’m sure I could’ve followed my dreams, but I think it would’ve been more difficult.
    And also, she looked way more like my sister, [laughs]

    PS: There still seems to be a stigma or shock when people find out a person is adopted, in part because of this dated societal idea that “ideal” families conceive their children. I don’t agree with that; in my own case, my dad wasn’t my biological father, but he was my dad all the same. What would you tell people who find out they’re adopted — or anyone who, for any reason, feels like an “other” in their group?

    Moffa: Don’t pity yourself or feel different. You’re a normal person just like all the other people who achieved their dreams, and you can do the same thing. Sometimes, these things will come up in life, in your personal life, at work, or in conversation with people close to you, but you just have to engage with it head-on. Don’t feel bad about it. Be yourself, follow your dreams, and live your life as it’s happening. Don’t pretend it’s not real, of course, because it’s a part of you. But don’t hide it. Be proud of it, even. Don’t run from it.

    I’m happy and proud of where I came from. I don’t think being adopted puts me in a fence or anything. I’m a normal person, just like any other guy… I can do anything I want if I put my mind to it.

    PS: What have you learned about mental health that you apply today — not necessarily in regards to your identity, but even within your career? How do you manage anxiety and things of that nature? What advice have you received?

    Moffa: In this fast-moving industry, you have to stay grounded above all and be aware of your station in life. You [have to] be patient about what’s happening around you and not rush yourself. At times, I find myself asking thousands of questions in my head, but then I have to stop and center myself and my thoughts, and ease up. Sometimes, you simply have to shed tears to release all that anger or anxiety that we feel when faced with adversity in this world where there are many ups and downs. It helps to get it all out and not let emotions get the best of you.

    Juan J. Arroyo is a Puerto Rican freelance music journalist. Since 2018, he’s written for PS, Remezcla, Rolling Stone, and Pitchfork. His focus is on expanding the canvas of Latin stories and making Latin culture — especially Caribbean Latin culture — more visible in the mainstream.

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  • The Inspiration Behind Morir Soñando: The First All-Dominican Comedy Show

    The Inspiration Behind Morir Soñando: The First All-Dominican Comedy Show

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    When fellow emerging comedian Glorelys Mora and I first met in the comedy scene — it was an instant connection. I was in awe of her ability to capture and materialize people’s need for expression through comedy. Her determination and contagious, guttural laugh drew me in, and we quickly bonded over our shared experiences and challenges as Dominican comedians. As comics, we spent hours discussing how difficult it was to gain support and recognition in an industry that often overlooks voices like ours. Our conversations sparked a vision: to create a dedicated platform that would elevate Dominican voices in comedy.

    When we started Morir Soñando, it was a venture born out of necessity and a deep love for our culture. I’d long felt comedy was missing something crucial — an authentic representation of Dominican voices. While the comedy scene is vibrant and diverse, Dominican comedians often lack a platform that celebrates our unique perspectives and experiences. This gap in representation motivated us to create a space where our stories could be told unapologetically.

    I sometimes joke about being emotionally constipated. What I mean by that is I don’t know how to cry, but I do know how to make a joke about it. Laughter grounds the moment and transcends people’s identity and status. It’s the very thing that reminds us we are alive and present. Comedy is like feeding medicine with candy; it brings awareness to difficult topics with levity. And as a result, it often supports us with our mental health and through some of life’s most challenging moments, including loss and trauma.

    Growing up, I often felt lonely as a kid who struggled with depression, but humor was the one thing that kept me from feeling completely isolated. Humor and laughter bring people together. It doesn’t matter what you’re going through; laughter acknowledges that you are present in the moment with others, whether you know them or not. Making jokes about being an affair child makes me feel like less of a burden to my family because I get to bring levity to such a serious issue. It also lets people like me know they aren’t alone. A laugh can heal someone’s pain and suffering.

    When it comes to comedy, comedy is such an essential way of communication in my family. That’s how we dealt with our trauma. I didn’t know I was funny until people told me, and I was able to grow and realize I could make a living off of this. But I also don’t see many people like me making strides in this industry. When I first saw Aida Rodriguez on “Last Comic Standing” in 2014, I felt an instant connection because her experiences were so relatable to mine. It wasn’t until I became a comedian that I realized how underrepresented we are.

    But that also means we constantly face a crossroads in this industry: do we assimilate or pave our own way? In the American market, stand-up comedy is often seen as either Black or white. As an American, I embrace my Blackness, but what about my parents’ Dominican identity and my upbringing at home? Should I shut down that part of me to be more palatable for the “mainstream”?

    Glorelys and I wanted to create a space for people like us to navigate these questions — similar to what Def Comedy Jam did for the Black American community. I always related more to Black American comics because their comedy was honest and raw, reflecting struggles similar to mine. Still, there was limited space for people who looked like me and also spoke Spanish.

    Ultimately, the inspiration for Morir Soñando came from a profound need to see ourselves reflected on stage, not just as a token presence, but as the main event. Over 42 million people in America speak Spanish. It’s inevitable for people to be bilingual and speak Spanglish in this country. We wanted to create something that evolves the conversation around Latinidad, showing that it is not a monolith but as diverse as every American in this country. Our comedy shows are not meant to exclude any nationality; quite the opposite. We want to embrace others while creating a place where talent like ours can connect with people who might not have known we exist.

    We launched our first show in 2019 to highlight and celebrate Dominican comedians, showcasing our rich cultural heritage and the humor that springs from it. Last year, we made history with a show at the United Palace, an achievement that underscored the importance and impact of our mission. We are returning to United Palace for our next show on July 26 and are thrilled to be moving to the venue’s main theater, which seats audiences of up to 3,350, for our November show.

    However, producing these events has not been without its challenges. Financially, it has been incredibly demanding. Securing support from the community is crucial to sustain and grow these events. It’s notoriously difficult to get Latine events sponsored, so Glorelys and I financed it ourselves, which reflects broader issues of representation and support for minority communities in the arts.

    Despite these challenges, we have had significant wins. Our past shows’ success and increasing audience support give us hope and motivation. But the road ahead requires a concerted effort from our community. We need to come together to support and uplift each other, recognizing the importance of cultural events like Morir Soñando.

    I want to be candid about our frustrations — securing funding, finding the right venues, and battling stereotypes — because these obstacles make our victories sweeter. We are proud of what we have accomplished so far and are excited for the future.

    Morir Soñando is not just a comedy show but a celebration of Dominican culture, a platform for underrepresented voices, and a movement towards greater inclusivity in the comedy world. Your support is vital in helping us continue this journey, and we look forward to sharing many more laughs and stories with you.

    Sasha Merci is a first-generation Dominican American actor, comedian, and viral digital creator. She showcases over a decade of diverse experience in entertainment with roles in films like “Righteous Thieves” and “De Lo Mio,” along with collaborations with renowned brands such as Target and Bumble. She shares her Bronx roots and passion for Latine culture by being vocal about mental health and navigating comedy.

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  • Sofía Vergara Embraced Spanish For “Griselda” — and Now She’s Making Emmys History

    Sofía Vergara Embraced Spanish For “Griselda” — and Now She’s Making Emmys History

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    Last week, Sofia Vergara made history at the Emmys as the first Latina to be nominated for best lead actress in a limited series for her role in Netflix’s “Griselda.” This nomination comes after years of Vergara battling a double-edged sword: her undeniable talent and her Colombian accent, which were both part of the path she’d carved with her iconic portrayal of Gloria Pritchett on “Modern Family.” Despite the success that “Modern Family” had — winning 22 Primetime Emmy Awards and garnering 85 nominations since its 2009 debut — Vergara has been vocal about the limitations the industry placed on her because of her accent.

    “I’m always looking for characters because there’s not much that I can play with this stupid accent,” she told the Los Angeles Times earlier this year. “I can’t play a scientist or be in ‘Schindler’s List.’ My acting jobs are kind of limited.”

    With Salma Hayek being a rare exception, Latina actresses with accents often find themselves relegated to stereotypical roles like fiery maids or sassy best friends. Take Rosie Perez, for instance. The Puerto Rican actress known for her roles in Spike Lee’s “Do the Right Thing” and “White Men Can’t Jump” has spoken out about how her Puerto Rican Brooklyn accent often limited the roles she landed. Her role in “White Men Can’t Jump” was originally intended for an Italian or Irish American actress, but she eventually proved she was the perfect fit for the role.

    “Yes, my accent was strong. Yes, I was Brooklyn. Yes, I was poor, but did that mean I should be limited to only playing unintelligent, downtrodden, and humiliating stereotypes?” she wrote in her 2014 memoir “Handbook for an Unpredictable Life.

    Americans’ tendency to view accents through a biased lens has always been an uphill battle for Latine actors. Judgment towards people with heavy ethnic accents is a persistent issue and a prejudice that actors with British or Australian accents rarely face. This is a form of discrimination that needs to be dismantled.

    While Perez, Hayek, and Vergara are undeniable stars, such has been the case for many Latina actresses with strong accents. The industry has been hesitant to embrace the full spectrum of what Latina actresses can offer, creating a barrier for those who couldn’t (or wouldn’t) shed their accents.

    As Vergara herself has said, it was frustrating to be considered less intelligent simply because her English wasn’t flawless. “Do you even know how smart I am in Spanish?” is one of her most quoted lines from “Modern Family,” highlighting the unfair assumption that an accent is equated to a lack of fluency or intellect.

    Then came “Griselda,” a limited series on Netflix in which Vergara embraced her heritage and accent, and spoke primarily Spanish. In this role, she wasn’t just allowed — she was encouraged to speak Spanish. It was in this role, portraying the ruthless drug lord Griselda Blanco, that the world finally witnessed the full depth of Sofia’s acting talent. While it was unfortunate that a drug-trafficking narrative became the platform, her performance was incredible and showcased her talent beyond comedic roles.

    This highlights a crucial point. Latinos are an integral part of American society, and Spanish is a widely spoken language. Diversifying representation goes beyond casting; it’s about creating stories where Latine experiences take center stage, even if those stories unfold primarily in Spanish. Latines are not a niche audience; they are the very fabric of America, and Spanish is a primary or secondary language for millions.

    Vergara’s Emmy nomination wasn’t just a personal triumph; it was a beacon for change. Shows like “Narcos,” “La Casa de Papel,” and films like “Roma” have proven that the audience for projects that prominently feature Spanish dialogue not only exists but can indeed be a potent force. It’s time to break the mold and embrace the richness of multilingual storytelling, creating possibilities for more productions featuring talents like Vergara as well as up-and-coming Latine stars.

    Vergara’s historic nomination is a pivotal moment not just for her, but for countless Latine actors yearning for the chance to showcase their full potential. This wasn’t just about an Emmy; it’s a call for Hollywood to embrace the richness of Latine stories and recognize that representation goes beyond just faces. It’s about shattering barriers and paving the way for a future using the power of language reflected around the vibrant tapestry of our diverse voices.

    Kimmy Dole is a contributor for PS Juntos known for her sharp insights and compelling storytelling. An entertainment enthusiast, Kimmy immerses herself in the glitz of the industry, delivering a captivating blend of celebrity interviews, insights from industry experts, and the latest pop culture trends. Her work offers readers a genuine and relatable perspective, especially when exploring the complexities of relationships.

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  • “Betty La Fea” Is Back. Here’s Why Latines Have Been Awaiting the New Series

    “Betty La Fea” Is Back. Here’s Why Latines Have Been Awaiting the New Series

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    When “Yo Soy Betty, La Fea” aired its first and only season in 1999, no one could have imagined the impact a Colombian telenovela that followed Betty Pinzón, a quirky, corporate Latina protagonist navigating her career and love life, would have on millions of people around the world. The show was televised in 180 countries, dubbed in 15 languages, and remade into 28 international adaptations — with one of the most prominent remakes starring America Ferrera as “Ugly Betty.”

    In “Betty La Fea” — and every rendition thereafter — Betty’s long, frizzy dark hair, oversized glasses, mouth full of braces, and bushy eyebrows elicited unwarranted disgust and ire from most of her coworkers. Her looks were the throughline of every episode, which was fitting, given that the Spanish title translates to “I Am Betty, the Ugly One.” But for countless Latines who grew up watching the show, Betty was a beacon of hope for those of us raised in beauty-obsessed Latine cultures.

    Betty’s perseverance while combating the pressure of society’s beauty standards made her one of the most relatable TV characters of our time and certainly played a role in making “Betty La Fea” the most successful telenovela in history. After more than two decades since the original series’ release, Betty returns to the small screen in the new Prime Video series “Betty La Fea, The Story Continues.” It will stream on July 19 with the original cast, including Ana María Orozco as the titular star. She’s now in her 40s, looks elegant, and is considered a successful woman, mother, and wife. But with her return, Betty is back to remind us and those around her that her success was never solely contingent on her appearance. In fact, that’s the first lesson Betty teaches us at the beginning of the 1999 “Betty La Fea” series.

    Ahead of the new release, it’s important to relive the original. In the very first episode of the telenovela, two jobseekers are interviewed for the same assistant role at the fashion company Ecomoda. While the hiring managers ogle the blonde-haired, blue-eyed applicant, Patricia, they gawk and grimace at Betty. Based on their reaction, Betty knows that she made the right decision not attaching her headshot to her resume or that she most likely wouldn’t have made it this far in the hiring process. Even after seeing her, Ecomoda president Armando realizes Betty has the necessary expertise and competence to advance the company’s needs and he hires them both — much to the hiring managers’ chagrin.

    In the 2006 U.S. adaptation “Ugly Betty,” Betty Suarez dizzyingly traversed between the 2000s American culture’s obsession with thinness and Latine culture’s obsession with curviness. Her coworkers blatantly shamed her for her body, often going as far as insinuating that Betty didn’t deserve designer clothes or the opportunities she worked for because they thought she was unattractive. Meanwhile, in Colombia, where plastic and cosmetic surgery were popular and gaining traction throughout the rest of Latin America, Betty Pinzón faced an endless amount of comments about how not even plastic surgery could make her beautiful. Instead of getting worn down by their commentary, Betty processed her emotions and confidently carried on to chase and achieve her dreams.

    While we now live in a post-Girlboss world where female empowerment is prevalent in TV shows and movies like 2023’s “Barbie,” “Betty La Fea” challenged the definition of beauty around the world, especially in Latine communities at the turn of the 21st century. For many Latinas who grew up watching “Betty La Fea” and “Ugly Betty,” it was about more than just seeing our cultural struggles with impossible beauty standards reflected on a screen. We now had our own Latina heroine who challenged beauty norms and succeeded despite the misogyny she faced at every turn.

    In 2024, Betty continues to model the power of self-assuredness in the face of adversity and the modern-day problems that come with being an ambitious career woman, mother, and partner. She works on breaking generational trauma by repairing her relationship with her teen daughter Mila and encourages her to chase after her ambitions in fashion. Finally, as Betty returns to Ecomoda, where her story began, we get to see her confront Armando, Marcela and the other characters who relentlessly undermined and underestimated her.

    While Betty is now conventionally beautiful in “Betty La Fea, The Story Continues,” life isn’t necessarily easier because of it. In fact, when Betty faces tough decisions that will change the trajectory of her family’s success and her romantic relationships, she trades in her fancy clothes and sleek hair for her old secretary-themed wardrobe and reverts to her old curly hairstyle, complete with bangs that she cut herself. As Betty makes space to learn new lessons in these new parts of her career, parenthood and love life, she’s bracing herself to share the most real, vulnerable and empowered version of herself we’ve ever seen.

    Zameena Mejia is a Dominican American freelance writer born and raised in New York City. She is passionate about storytelling and uplifting diverse voices in beauty, wellness, and Latinx lifestyle. Zameena holds a BA in journalism and Latin American studies from the State University of New York at New Paltz and an MA in business reporting from the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism.

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  • For Paraclimber Raveena Alli, Growth Sometimes Looks Like Falling – POPSUGAR Australia

    For Paraclimber Raveena Alli, Growth Sometimes Looks Like Falling – POPSUGAR Australia

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    Before getting on the wall in the final round of a paraclimbing competition, 17-year-old Raveena Alli, a climber who’s blind, usually has six minutes to preview the top rope route with her caller, Fernando Vásquez. He tells her how it’ll feel – easy, pumpy, familiar, unfamiliar – and how it’ll flow. He talks her through the resting spots and the cruxes – the hardest moves. When Alli starts climbing, Vásquez gives her the direction, distance, and shape of the next hold through Bluetooth headsets, referencing a clock face and everyday objects: “12 o’clock, close, muffin.”

    Vásquez never rushes his calls, matching his tone to Alli’s intentional movement. As she climbs, she engages her biceps to find control, adjusts her feet to find balance, and pushes off from her legs to find power. She loves it when these moves feel natural, but she also likes it when they don’t. In training, Alli will fall on a tricky move a few times before Vásquez gives her more direction. “He’s big into – which I like – having me attempt it, having me fall, because that’s when you really learn most about how your body will respond to your movements,” Alli says. “I would’ve quit a long time ago if I had just always gone to the top, because that’s kind of boring.”

    As a member of the Atlanta, Georgia chapter of Team Catalyst, Alli has competed in adaptive climbing both nationally and internationally, moving to the adult field in 2022. She placed third in her international debut at the 2022 Paraclimbing World Cup in Salt Lake City. But when Alli took first at the US Paraclimbing Nationals in 2022 and 2023, there were no other competitors there to claim silver or bronze in the events’ B1 – total blindness – category.

    Alli was born with a condition called congenital bilateral anophthalmia, which kept her eyeballs from developing. She’s been totally blind all her life and wears prosthetic eyes, which puts her in B1. It’s hard to find B1 climbers at the highest levels of competition. This dearth of blind peers comes in part from low public awareness of the sport, Alli says. But soon, there will be a global spotlight on paraclimbing: in June 2024, the International Paralympic Committee voted to add the sport to the 2028 Los Angeles Paralympic Games. “It fills me with optimism,” Alli tells PS. “It’s a powerful step in the right direction. My greatest hope is that other blind people and other people with unique abilities will say, ‘Oh, look, they can do it, why shouldn’t I be able to?’”

    “I would’ve quit a long time ago if I had just always gone to the top, because that’s kind of boring.”

    Alli started climbing when she was around 6 years old. Her mother, Hayley, encouraged her to take lessons after she tried the sport during a birthday party at a gym in her hometown of Atlanta. When Alli was 8, she joined Team Pinnacle, which caters to kids of all abilities and is based at Stone Summit Climbing & Fitness Center. Two years later, she joined her current team at the same gym: Team Catalyst, where she met Vásquez, her coach and caller for more than a decade. When they first paired up, Alli was full of energy getting on the wall, Vásquez remembers. “Her whole attitude was like, she wanted to go at it,” he says. “She wanted to go.”

    Since then, Vásquez has watched Alli’s climbing mature, as she’s built up her stamina, patience, ability to multitask, and proprioception – a sense of your body in space. Alli worked on these skills over time, but she’s always easily interpreted Vásquez’s calls, he says: “Throughout the years, it’s gotten to the point where I can just give her a string of information and she will nail it.”

    For Alli, climbing is about growth, and growth comes from falling. “Growth looks like those moments where I don’t quite make it,” she says. “Even when I do, it’s really about: What did I learn about my body on this climb? Or how did my coach and I learn to collaborate better as a team? It’s really just being able to take every climb and think, ‘What did I learn from this?’”

    Alli doesn’t consider herself the fiercest competitor. At most events, she’s just happy to have an outlet for focusing on her own growth as a climber and to meet other differently abled athletes. But since she’s begun competing nationally, Alli has found she’s not only the rare B1 climber, but also the rare teenager among older athletes.

    She and her mother point to climbing’s costs and hesitation toward a lesser-known sport as barriers to entry for youth. Competitive climbers and their families pay for specialized gear, gym memberships, and national or international travel. And because blind and low vision climbing isn’t well known, parents may not have a clear concept of the sport’s relatively safe practice of top roping on routes set for static movement.

    That’s where the Paralympics come in. Exposure by way of the biggest stage in sports could drive up participation and usher in resources, says John Muse, vice president of sport at USA Climbing. “When sport climbing became part of the Olympics, it shifted things in the US,” Muse says. “There was a lot of excitement around it and increased interest in competition rock climbing. Paraclimbing is going to see the same influx.”

    When Alli competed at the 2023 IFSC Paraclimbing World Championships in Bern, Switzerland, she had a taste of the community that comes with taking part in international competitions. She was able to meet more B1 athletes and other climbers from around the world. Alli listened to their varying strategies for hard moves.

    In fact, one of her favorite moments was waiting in isolation with her competitors before climbing. “That’s when you can really feel the energy,” Alli says. “There is a genuinely encouraging energy of: we’re competing, but we’re all in this together.”

    Alli hopes for more of that connection throughout her competitive climbing career. She plans to compete for as long as she can, and one day, she’d like to mentor young adaptive climbers.

    After graduating from Atlanta Girls’ School in May, Alli now works for the Partnership for Southern Equity and is studying at Georgia Tech. She hopes to bring her experiences moving through the education system as student who’s blind to a career advancing social justice and equity. Alli wants to find ways to fill the system’s gaps in training and services for differently-abled students. She has similar hopes for her sport: “The goal now is just to spread the education, spread the knowledge, and hopefully get more uniquely abled people involved,” Alli says.

    Suzie Hodges is a freelance writer drawn to stories in science, environmental conservation, and outdoor sports. In addition to POPSUGAR, her work has appeared in Smithsonian magazine, Blue Ridge Outdoors, and The Daily Beast. Previously, she was a writer at an environmental conservation organization called Rare and at the College of Engineering at Virginia Tech.

    Related: These 3 Women Climbers Overcame Surgery, Grief, and Self-Doubt to Make Rock-Climbing History

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  • Latin Dance Nights Are Helping Me Reconnect to a Time-Honored Tradition

    Latin Dance Nights Are Helping Me Reconnect to a Time-Honored Tradition

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    A collage of photos shows a man and woman dancing, with the Brooklyn Bridge in the background as well as some collaged music notes.
    Getty/Illustration by Keila Gonzalez
    Getty/Illustration by Keila Gonzalez

    Ask anybody from New York, and they’ll tell you that summers in the city are special. They are so special that they’ve been immortalized in great works of literature, cinema, and songs for decades now. Perhaps most famously on the Latine side of things, El Gran Combo’s “Un Verano En Nueva York” stands as an ode to New York City summer and everything it brings with it: street festivals, block parties, boat tours, beach days. And for many Latines in the city, summertime marks the return of a time-honored tradition: Latin dance nights.

    As a kid, my father had my sister and me on the weekends, and he would take us down to South Street Seaport for salsa night. This was before the recent renovation, back when the Fulton Fish Market still operated out of downtown and would fill the air with the strong scent of tilapia, salmon, and sea bass. But as you got closer to the water, the scent dissipated, and the rhythm of the clave got stronger. You’d pass Pizzeria Uno and the now-defunct bar Sequoia, turn a corner, and boom, a dance floor full of NYC’s best steppers, the bass thick enough to swim through.

    These parties are an important part of maintaining the culture, language, and political power we’ve seen dwindle as rents have soared.

    Those Latin dance nights were a formative part of my childhood. Not because I learned how to dance there (I still haven’t fully), but because of the experience of the community they provided, the enclave of Latinidad that enveloped you when you walked in. It was like a big family, where faces you hadn’t seen in years would bob up and out of the crowd. I still have good relationships with all my dad’s friends (who are now in their 60s) because of those Latin dance nights. I still remember the many times my parents — separated for years at that point — would bump into each other by chance at an event or party, and the more difficult aspects of their relationship would be forgotten as they spun their way through a song or two.

    But this summer, rather than reliving those fond memories, I plan to make my own and go to as many Latin dance nights as possible. Toñitas 50th Anniversary Block Party in June was a sight to behold. Amid the clash of boutique restaurants and three-story brick buildings in South Williamsburg, Grand Street was packed with gyrating bodies swaying to the rhythms of salsa and reggaeton. Vendors from all over the city, such as La Fonda, served up Puerto Rican staples, while others provided classic Caribbean refreshments such as coco frio; DJs and live bands played in the background. It was a day that felt like you were in old New York City.

    But while Toñitas was a legitimate throwback, two other organizations, Perreo 2 the People and La 704, have been hard at work trying to bring the future sounds of Puerto Rico to the Big Apple. Two times in as many months, the collectives have hosted perreo parties at Starr Bar in Bushwick, showcasing the next generation of island talent. More than being a platform for up-and-coming artists like Bendi La Bendición, Taiana, Keysokeys, and Enyel C, the parties also serve as a bridge between diaspora and the motherland. At a time when Puerto Ricans are vanishing from the city we helped build, these parties are an important part of maintaining the culture, language, and political power we’ve seen dwindle as rents have soared. And for me, they represent a kind of homecoming.

    I’ve been a professional of color for many years now, navigating the ups and downs of the corporate world. As I have, I’ve found that new environments and opportunities opened up to me, taking me far away from my concrete beginnings. Working in tech meant nights filled with craft beer, ping pong, and karaoke. Advertising led me to the snowy-covered streets of Buffalo, where decades-old pubs and ritzy fine dining mingle on Main Street. However, the more ingrained I became in corporate culture and the more I looked for out-of-the-box experiences, the further away I drifted from the humble Latino parties that sustained me in my younger years. We didn’t need a lot to have fun, no top shelf liquor or fancy appetizers. We just needed a beat and a dance floor.

    Now that I’m older and wiser, I’m looking forward to getting back to my roots, to getting back and giving back to my community, and getting back a piece of myself I had long ago put away. And maybe I’ll finally become the salsa dancer I always wanted to be.

    Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.

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    Miguel Machado

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  • How to Get a Real ID License Before the Deadline

    How to Get a Real ID License Before the Deadline

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    Already planning your big vacation for next year? If you’re flying within the United States, you better add one more item to that to-do list: Update your license to Real ID. Anyone who has a license that isn’t Real ID–certified will not be allowed to board domestic flights in the US starting May 7, 2025. So unless you have a passport on hand, you’ll need to update your license soon.

    This regulatory change is two decades in the making. The new identification standard was suggested by the 9/11 Commission in response to the September 11 attacks and signed into law by US president George W. Bush in 2005. While the original deadline for the change was set for three years later, it has been delayed numerous times. But despite previous delays, there has been no indication from the government that this current deadline, set for 2025, will be adjusted again.

    Curious about what the new licenses look like, and how to get your own before the deadline passes? Here’s everything you need to know about the switch to Real ID.

    What Does a Real ID Look Like?

    It looks quite similar to previous driver’s licenses, so don’t expect any drastic changes to the ID’s appearance. Get out your wallet, and check to see whether you have a Real ID by looking for a star in the top right corner of the license. That’s the only major change.

    Photograph: Jeff Greenberg/Universal Images Group/Getty Images

    Just like each state has different designs for their driver’s licenses, the exact implementation of Real ID’s star slightly varies depending on your state. Most of the designs feature a gold circle inlaid with a white star in the top right corner, but California has a gold bear surrounding the white star instead. And while many of the Real IDs feature a gold color, some states opted for a more muted color palette.

    How Do I Get a Real ID?

    To see exactly what steps you need to follow, visit the Department of Homeland Security’s webpage about updating to a Real ID, and click on the state where you reside. This will take you to another government website with more specific information from your state about the update process.

    You’ll likely have to apply for a Real ID in person at a local Department of Motor Vehicles office, and be prepared to bring plenty of documentation with you. Even though the specifics may be a bit different for your state, let’s take a look at Missouri’s requirements as an example to help you understand how much documentation will be required to get the Real ID.

    To start off, if you’re a Missouri resident, you will need proof of your Social Security number, which is typically a Social Security card but could also be a W-2 form. Then you’ll have to show one identity document as well as one lawful status document. For this section, a valid passport or a US birth certificate will cover both requirements. Next, two different proofs of residency are required to demonstrate that you actually live in the state, like a utility bill, employer paycheck, or car insurance. Finally, additional documentation is required for any name change, like a marriage license.

    In order to save yourself a frustrating, unfruitful trip to the DMV, double check all of your necessary documentation before going to the office. Depending on the state, you may need to make an appointment beforehand for a more streamlined experience. (Well, as streamlined as any visit to the DMV can be.)

    What Else Is a Real ID Required For?

    Even though many Americans need to update their driver’s license primarily just for travel purposes, there are a few edge cases where a Real ID is also necessary: According to the DHS, you will also need it to enter military bases and some federal buildings. A Real ID is also necessary to visit nuclear power plants in the US.

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    Reece Rogers

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  • Jessica Alba Brought Her Mexican Heritage Into All Aspects of “Trigger Warning”

    Jessica Alba Brought Her Mexican Heritage Into All Aspects of “Trigger Warning”

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    It’s been a while since we’ve seen Jessica Alba leading a film — in 2018, she pivoted to focus on her billion-dollar sustainable brand The Honest Company, which she stepped down from as chief creative officer in April. But in her latest movie, “Trigger Warning,” Alba not only returns to the screen; she also makes a rare appearance as a Latina lead of an action flick.

    In the movie, which was released on Netflix on June 21, Alba plays Parker, a US special forces commando stationed overseas who takes a trip back to her hometown after learning her father has died (which she later discovers was caused by a murder). The “Dark Angel” and “Sin City” actress, who also worked as the film’s executive producer, says she made sure every detail behind her Mexican-American character was as authentic as possible.

    It’s no secret that Latines are major moviegoers and yet remain underrepresented on-screen. According to UCLA’s 2021 Hollywood Diversity Report, Latines accounted for only 5.4 percent of movie leads and 5.7 percent of actors in any onscreen role that year. When we dive into specific genres that many Latines enjoy — like horror, rom-coms, and action films — the representation is even lower. But Alba’s return proves how much we need to see more of this.

    “I feel a lot of the times when you see women in this genre; we’re either the damsel in distress or we’re the male version of a badass woman — pretty emotionless [with] pretty stoic one-liners, wearing completely impractical clothes in action,” Alba says. “And I just feel like it was so nice to play someone with wild hair who wears vintage [clothes] and cowboy boots, and it just felt very feminine and very human. Like someone who can be your neighbor and your friend.”

    The actress, who is half Mexican, says she took from her own experiences to bring all those layers and cultural nuances to Parker’s character. Viewers can see it reflected in everything from the music—like the classic folk song “La Llorana” featured in the film—to the clothing choices.

    “There are certain movies where I feel like our culture is represented, and many where it’s not done right.”

    “When we were talking about it, I was really like, the music just has to be right. There are certain movies where I feel like our culture is represented, and many where it’s not done right. I was like, I just want this to feel and just have that little bit of flavor so that it feels really right with what’s going on right now,” Alba says. She adds that she made a Pinterest board of the vibe she was going for with Parker’s clothes, and the costume designer, Samantha Hawkins, and the director, Molly Surya, helped bring the whole vision to life. “Between the three of us, we really got to shape her and give it that nice kind of grittiness and realness.”

    But there was perhaps a deeper reason Alba’s performance feels so convincing. The movie centers on loss, and if Parker’s grief and devastation seem real, that’s because Alba herself was grieving the loss of one of her own relatives when she was shooting the film.

    “Weirdly, my grandfather passed away around the time that I was shooting the movie, so I was genuinely grieving him, and it was a very cathartic experience to be able to do a lot of that reflecting and grieving alongside Parker,” she says. “A lot of my family photos are actually in the movie, so I really did get to infuse a bit of my family in the movie.”

    You can especially see Alba’s touch as executive producer in one scene where Parker finds herself navigating an uncomfortable conversation with an ultra-conservative and racist senator played by Anthony Michael Hall. He mocks the term Latinx while giving Parker a pass for being a likable Mexican among many in the town.

    “I don’t know how that scene came to life exactly, but I loved it, and it took on a life of its own with Anthony Michael Hall, and I was sitting in that seat … in like all of Parker’s ancestors’ earrings and clothing because it’s all vintage and lived in,” she says. “And for this ding dong to sit there and try to reduce us and kind of be so disrespectful in an offhand way, it all landed. This thing kind of all clicked with that scene. It was like this is a flavor I had never seen in a movie.”

    The film, which has been positioned as a franchise starter, made Netflix’s No. 1 spot over the weekend — proving that authentic storytelling is resonating with audiences. And while Alba is no stranger to action films and doing her stunts, “Trigger Warning” truly aligns with her longtime dream of becoming a Latina action hero.

    Johanna Ferreira is the content director for PS Juntos. With more than 10 years of experience, Johanna focuses on how intersectional identities are a central part of Latine culture. Previously, she spent close to three years as the deputy editor at HipLatina, and she has freelanced for numerous outlets including Refinery29, Oprah magazine, Allure, InStyle, and Well+Good. She has also moderated and spoken on numerous panels on Latine identity.

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  • Mau y Ricky Are Continuing Their Father Ricardo Montaner’s Legacy

    Mau y Ricky Are Continuing Their Father Ricardo Montaner’s Legacy

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    Although some celebrities shy away from the topic of their famous parents, that’s never been the case for Mau y Ricky. The Venezuelan singer-songwriters are the sons of Latine pop icon Ricardo Montaner. However, the talent in the Montaner family doesn’t end with Mau, Ricky, and Ricardo. Mau and Ricky’s sister, Evaluna Montaner, and their brother-in-law, Camilo, are also impacting the industry. If you listen closely, the elder Evaluna and Camilo’s voices can be heard on Mau y Ricky’s new album “Hotel Caracas,” which also marked the brothers’ return to Venezuela for the first time in over a decade. Family and community are core tenets for the duo.

    “There’s no hiding the obvious,” Ricky Montaner says of his famous family. “I’m proud as a family that we’ve been able to lift each other up, inspire each other, and connect with people in this way. It’s beautiful and special.”

    Growing up in Caracas, Mau and Ricky saw their father perform big-time hits like “Tan Enamorados” and “Bésame” to sold-out crowds. He would even bring them on stage to sing with him occasionally. Ricardo also once had a record label with Venezuelan brothers Servando & Florentino. They often rehearsed at home and showed the younger Montaner brothers that a sibling duo in Latin music was possible. Now, the sons are inviting their dad to sing their songs. In a hidden feature on the song “Muriendo de Miedo,” Ricardo’s voice beautifully harmonizes with his sons’.

    “It’s full circle,” Mau Montaner says. “I feel like he had to be in it. We’re so grateful for what he has meant to us as a father, obviously as support in the early years and as an influence. It’s like paying homage to him and musically thanking him for everything he has meant for us and honoring what he’s done.”

    Despite having the Montaner connection, Mau y Ricky still had to work hard on their own to gain respect within the industry. While developing their musical act, they also formed a songwriting collective that included longtime collaborator JonTheProducer and their future brother-in-law, Camilo. They helped pen hits like Becky G and Natti Natasha’s “Sin Pijama,” Karol G’s “Pineapple,” Ricky Martin’s “Vente Pa’ Ca” with Maluma, and their own breakthrough hit “Desconocidos,” which served as a launching pad for Camilo’s pop career. Mau y Ricky cowrote a song on Camilo’s recent album “Cuatro,” and their brother-in-law is also featured on their song “Karma.”

    “It’s pretty crazy and wild to think back on what we were able to accomplish that started from being these fucking four hopeful kids that had big dreams to one day make it in music,” Ricky recalls, referring to himself, Mau, Camilo, and JonTheProducer.

    “We did it our way, and it was in a collective with people we love,” Mau says. “Being able to get together and have these little moments of creative bonding is beautiful. We created some of my favorite music alongside Cami.”

    “Hotel Caracas” signals a new era in Mau y Ricky’s music. It marks the first album release on their own label, Why Club Records, in partnership with Warner Music Latina. The LP also comes on the heels of Mau y Ricky expanding their own families. In 2022, Mau and his wife Sara Escobar welcomed their first child, Apollo, and Ricky later married Argentine model Stefi Roitman. It’s their most personal and daring album, with songs about romance, heartbreak, and sex.

    “Being married and starting our own families has given us a sense of security,” Ricky says. “At this point, my wife knows me exactly as I am, and I can tell the stories I’m telling, and many of them speak of my past or Mau’s past. Before, we might have been like, ‘You’re not going to say that.’ With that sense of security, I’m like, ‘I’ve been through all this, and I got to say it because I know that it can help somebody.’”

    To promote the “Hotel Caracas” album, Mau y Ricky are putting on intimate Lobby Bar concerts around the US and Latin America. The brothers also plan to hit the road with a tour at the end of the year. Mau admits that he is adjusting to juggling being a father to Apollo and living out his dreams as a pop star with his brother.

    “To be honest, it’s hard, but it’s also super fun,” he says. “Let’s say 60 years from now, I love knowing that those songs [on ‘Hotel Caracas’] are a part of his childhood. I love the idea that he learned to say certain words and that he learned to play pretend drums or pretend trumpets because he heard these songs. They’re a part of his development, and music has more of a development in kids’ brains than we even realize.”

    “Hotel Caracas” also marks Mau y Ricky’s return to their home country of Venezuela. The songs drip with Venezuelan swagger and use local slang. All 15 music videos for the album were shot in cities around Venezuela, with an upcoming documentary that captured their experience. Mau y Ricky worked with over 200 crew members based in Venezuela for the project.

    “We needed to reconnect,” Mau says. “We felt like we were going through this identity crisis or lack of feeling a part of somewhere. For the longest time, we felt that, and as you mature, you start noticing those little wounds that you have to heal. That was one of them. It was beautiful when we got to heal that [wound] when we went back to our country. It was three months of getting to know our country in the best way possible, plus filming the videos to represent the beauty of Venezuela.”

    Lucas Villa is a Mexican American music journalist who covers pop and Latin music. Over 11 years, he has interviewed pop queens and Latin music superstars for places like PS, Allure, Elle, Rolling Stone, Billboard, MTV News, Paper, W Magazine, Vibe, and LGBTQ Nation.

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    Lucas Villa

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  • Jay Wheeler’s Abuela Helped Make Him One of Reggaetón’s Most Romantic Voices – POPSUGAR Australia

    Jay Wheeler’s Abuela Helped Make Him One of Reggaetón’s Most Romantic Voices – POPSUGAR Australia

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    For many of us, our relationship with our grandparents can serve as a bridge to the past, often linking our crucial developmental years with the wisdom and customs of the generations that came before us. For Jay Wheeler, the connection he shares with his grandmother, Clara Luz, is something he cherishes. It has helped mold him into the man and artist he is today.

    “One of the most beautiful treasures I have in my life is my abuela,” Wheeler says. “She’s a person that loves to go out, who loves to party, and I’m lucky to still have her with me and have her healthy.”

    But along with being the life of the party, his grandmother has helped instill many of the values that guide the singer – who’s been hard at work ushering in a new brand of romantiqueo with his albums “Emociones” and “Emociones 1.5.”

    “She taught me to be respectful, to always be empathetic to people, and to have a healthy fear of God. I’m a person who believes very strongly in God, thanks to her,” the singer says, adding that she also taught him to “just be loving with the world.”

    That caring disposition is something that comes across in his music and his interactions with fans and the media. Wheeler once mentioned that he tries not to wear sunglasses because he wants his fans to be able to see his eyes. On the musical front, DJ Nelson’s protege is in high demand to bring old-school crooner vibes to the new wave of trap and reggaetón. His latest offering, “Musica Bueno Para Días Malos,” is a futuristic ride through the ups and downs of love. However, the singer recently found the opportunity to tackle a different genre when he released a cover of the classic song “Piel Canela.“

    “I was actually really nervous because I know it’s a classic, that it’s something that you don’t want to mess up,” he says. “So, my intention was never to make a better version or anything like that. My intention was just to make my version of a classic song – one that reminds me of my grandmother. “

    The opportunity to cover the song came about as part of a collaboration with McDonald’s. The fast food giant is hard at work promoting their new “Grandma McFlurry” and offering fans a chance to meet the reggaetonero to sweeten an already sweet deal. For Wheeler, however, not only does he get to cover a timeless classic, but he also gets to honor his abuelita, who he also credits with helping cultivate his love for music through her own passion for song and dance.

    “My grandmother always wanted to be a singer . . . and that inspired me. From a very young age, she instilled [that desire] in me. And she always wanted to be famous,” Wheeler laughs. “[To this day,] if you give her a stage and microphone, she’ll dance and sing.”

    The singer recalls a childhood video of him and his abuela singing and dancing like two superstars. Fast-forward to today, and Wheeler is on track to be just that – the McDonald’s campaign a testament to his rising star and marketability. As part of the marketing campaign for the Grandma McFlurry, Wheeler and his grandmother got the chance to film a commercial together, advertising the new snack and the TikTok competition that goes along with it. So his abuelita is finally getting her time in the limelight.

    So, what’s next for Wheeler and Grandma Clara Luz? Wheeler is currently on tour, and his next stop is a concert performance at The Theatre at Madison Square Garden, where he’ll cycle through his repertoire of reggaetón hits and trap bangers the week after Puerto Rican Weekend. But while cantando urbano is his bread and butter, the singer hasn’t ruled out further experimentation with classic genres.

    “I’m open to doing anything when it comes to music. There’s no limit. I’m always going to challenge myself to do everything,” Wheeler says.

    “Obviously, not everything is going to suit me, but I’ll always try,” he adds. “I’m very open to everything, to doing rock music, classic music, whatever. I’m always going to try and give it my touch – my best shot.”

    Along with switching up genres every now and again, the singer has also been known to collaborate with his wife and fellow singer, Zhamira Zambrano. So, maybe a duet with his abuelita will also be in the cards sometime in the future. Whatever he chooses to tackle next, his grandmother will be there, looking on with pride, knowing that her passion was the push toward the bright future Wheeler is currently living.

    Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.

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    Miguel machado

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