Soundtrack
Opening: Three Question Marks
HOST: One word. Three question marks.
That was the response to a poster I shared over the weekend celebrating Hispanic Heritage Month and featuring sixteen prominent Garifuna people.
A Garifuna community member named Hector commented: “Hispanic???”
I replied with a laughing emoji.
But that exchange deserves more than an emoji. Because behind those three question marks is a conversation worth having.
Can we be Garifuna and Hispanic? Garifuna and Black? Garifuna and Indigenous? Can we participate in Latino life without allowing our own history to disappear inside it?
And who gets to decide which words belong to us?
[PAUSE.]
Mabuiga! Welcome to The Garifuna Experience Podcast. I’m your host, José Francisco Ávila.
In our last episode, I challenged the idea that Latinidad is one uniform experience. I said we must reject the monolith—the assumption that one language, one appearance, or one history can represent everybody.
Today, let’s explore what that means for us.
Because claiming our place begins with being able to name ourselves.
Segment 1: One Person, Several Truths
HOST: Let us begin here: a person can carry several identities without being divided.
A Garifuna person may identify as Black because of African ancestry, lived experience, and connection to the African diaspora.
That same person may identify as Indigenous or Afro-Indigenous because of our Indigenous Caribbean roots, our language, our ancestral memory, and our continuing cultural life.
Someone whose family comes from Honduras, Guatemala, or Nicaragua may also identify as Hispanic or Latino.
Those identities can coexist. But we should never assume that every Garifuna person embraces the same labels.
Our people also have communities in Belize and roots in Yurumein—Saint Vincent. Our families have different national histories, languages, and experiences across the diaspora.
Hispanic and Latino are overlapping terms, but they are not interchangeable. Hispanic generally refers to Spanish cultural or ancestral connections; Latino generally refers to Latin American origins. Neither word automatically describes every Garifuna person.
And speaking Spanish, by itself, does not settle someone’s identity.
[PAUSE.]
The invitation is to make room for people to describe themselves fully.
For some, that means saying, “I am Garifuna and Black.”
For others, “I am Garifuna, Afro-Indigenous, and Latino.”
And for others, “Garifuna is how I identify.”
We can respect each other without requiring identical answers.
What matters is that the broader categories never replace our name.
“Black” connects us to a vast history, but it does not, by itself, tell someone about our language.
“Latino” can describe a shared regional experience, but it does not explain Yurumein, exile, or the communities our ancestors built along the Caribbean coast of Central America.
Our name carries traditions such as dügü, punta, paranda, cassava traditions, and the relationships through which knowledge passes from one generation to another.
Garifuna names a people, a language, a culture, and a living history.
We deserve to be known with that specificity.
Segment 2: When Our Lives Meet the Boxes
HOST: Now imagine taking all of that history and trying to fit it onto a government form.
You read the choices.
You recognize part of yourself in one category. Another part in a second. You look for a place to write the name your family taught you.
And you wonder: Where does Garifuna go?
That question reveals the distance between how people live and how institutions count them.
Federal race and ethnicity categories help agencies collect and compare information. But no set of boxes can tell the whole story of a human being.
In the 2020 Census, Hispanic or Latino origin was asked separately from race. A person could be Hispanic or Latino and belong to any race.
In March 2024, the Office of Management and Budget revised those standards. The updated approach combines race and ethnicity in one question, allows people to select multiple categories, and generally requires more detailed information.
The Census Bureau says it is preparing to use the updated standards in the 2027 American Community Survey and the 2030 Census.
That creates an opportunity for our community to ask precise questions.
Where can someone identify as Garifuna? How will that response be classified? And will the published data make our community visible?
We should seek confirmed answers before telling people exactly how Garifuna identity will appear or be reported.
[PAUSE.]
Being able to write our name is one step. Being able to find ourselves in the resulting data is another.
When institutions cannot see us clearly, they can overlook our needs—and our contributions.
Segment 3: Turning Visibility into Participation
HOST: Let’s bring this down to everyday life.
Imagine a school trying to understand the families it serves. A health organization planning outreach. A library deciding which community histories belong in its collection.
If the information available describes everyone only through broad categories, important differences can disappear.
Language needs. Cultural knowledge. Migration experiences. The organizations people already trust.
Accurate data can help institutions ask better questions and make better decisions.
It does not automatically produce a grant, a cultural center, or a new program. We still have to organize, build relationships, explain our priorities, and hold institutions accountable.
But we should not have to begin every conversation by proving that our community exists.
That is why preparation for Census 2030 should begin before the questionnaire arrives.
We can start by bringing together trusted community messengers. Hosting conversations in familiar places. Helping families understand the questions. And checking information before we share it. Especially now, that The Census Bureau has proposed changes affecting congressional apportionment and the collection of race and ethnicity information.
The proposal would prohibit race and ethnicity questions on the 2030 decennial Census enumeration questionnaire. Detailed data support redistricting, civil-rights analysis, public planning, and community visibility.
We also need to listen.
What confused people last time? Which words felt incomplete? What would help someone describe themselves with confidence?
Those answers should shape our outreach.
Segment 4: New York’s Story Includes Us
HOST: But recognition does not begin with a census form or a ballot.
It also begins with the stories a city tells about itself.
Who appears in its museums? Whose history reaches its classrooms? Whose businesses are recommended to visitors? Who gets called an expert when a journalist needs a source?
Garifuna life belongs in New York’s Black history, Latino history, Caribbean history, Indigenous history, and immigrant history.
Our presence lives in language, music, food, faith, work, entrepreneurship, organizing, and family networks.
It lives in an elder teaching a younger relative a word.
In a musician explaining the meaning of a song and the difference between secular and Sacred music.
In a family finding ways to sustain traditions far from an ancestral homeland.
These everyday acts help make New York what it is.
Yet a story can include our culture and still leave our people unnamed.
A performance becomes “Latin entertainment.” A dish becomes “Caribbean food.” An artist becomes a colorful addition to somebody else’s event.
The audience sees something. But what have they learned about the people who created it?
Segment 5: The Words We Use Matter
HOST: So, how do we put this into practice?
Start with the name.
Capitalize Garifuna. Give it the care you would give the name of any other people or language.
You will also hear Garinagu, the collective term for the people or the plural. Explain it when your audience may be unfamiliar, and follow the community’s usage in context.
Be specific about what you mean.
If you are discussing the language, say “the Garifuna language.” If you are discussing a community, name that community. If you are introducing an artist, use the artist’s name and explain their work.
Our identity encompasses much more than a performance, a dish, or a festival.
Use broader labels thoughtfully.
Afro-Indigenous can help explain our roots. Afro-Latino may describe how someone understands their experience. Black, Hispanic, Latino, Caribbean, and immigrant can each communicate something meaningful.
Ask people which terms they use.
Nationality alone does not tell you someone’s race. The language someone speaks does not tell you their entire ancestry.
And nobody should have to explain every layer of identity just to be treated with respect.
For a journalist, teacher, or institution looking for a starting point, try this:
“Garifuna people are an Afro-Indigenous people with roots in the Caribbean and communities across Central America and the diaspora.”
Then get specific.
Which person? Which community? Which history? Which contribution?
That is where a general description becomes a meaningful story.
Closing: Returning to the Question
HOST: Let’s return to Hector’s comment.
“Hispanic???”
Hector, thank you for raising a question that deserves a real conversation.
My answer is that some Garifuna people identify as Hispanic. Some identify as Latino. Some do not embrace either term.
We should have room for that difference.
When I feature Garifuna people during Hispanic Heritage Month, my purpose is to make our presence visible within a celebration that too often overlooks Black and Indigenous experiences.
And our history deserves attention throughout the year.
We can participate in a broader community while insisting that our own name, history, and voice remain clear.
We can stand within Black history and tell Garifuna stories.
We can participate in Latino civic life and challenge the erasure of Afro-Indigenous people.
We can be New Yorkers and carry Yurumein with us.
This week, I invite you to take one simple action.
Share the story of a Garifuna person whose work deserves recognition. Talk with a younger family member about what our name means. Or, when a broad label leaves our community unnamed, add that name with respect and confidence.
Say, “This artist is Garifuna.”
“This is part of Garifuna history.”
“Our community belongs in this conversation.”
And Hector, I invite you to keep following our Hispanic Heritage Month posters—and to keep the conversation going.
That is how we challenge the idea that one story can speak for everyone.
By telling ours.
Outro
HOST: And that wraps up another illuminating episode of The Garifuna Experience Podcast.
Thank you for listening. Remember: The future of the Garifuna people is in our hands.
Until next time, stay united, stay proud. Sungubei Lidan Aban. Ayo!
HOST: Find new episodes of The Garifuna Experience Podcast every Tuesday on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, iHeart Podcasts, YouTube, Amazon Music, or wherever you find your favorite shows.
Please rate and review The Garifuna Experience Podcast —it helps our history reach the world
