Djali Alessandra
Brown-Cepeda

Black American, Dominican, Taíno
Founder and Curator of Nuevayorkinos, Film Producer,
Community Organizer

Most Likely To
Make Your Story Heard

1. Tell us what you do. How did you find your calling?

I’m the founder and curator of Nuevayorkinos, a digital archival oral history project documenting and preserving New York City Latinx culture and history through family photos and personal stories. I founded the project in 2019 after only seeing bits of myself — a multicultural Blatina New Yorker — reflected on Instagram and in the media. I created Nuevayorkinos for us and by us. In a colonial territory, telling personal stories of the people by the people becomes a radical act of decolonization and liberation. Through showcasing stories from El Barrio to Los Sures, Crown Heights to Washington Heights, Nuevayorkinos celebrates and showcases the multifaceted intersectionality that is being Latinx in New York City, and the nation by proxy. Whether one’s roots are in Medellín or Santo Domingo, it’s a large family photo album celebrating our personal and collective historias.

I’m also a community organizer, and I was a 2020 Voto Latino Electoral Partner, helping register folks to vote in this election cycle. I plan on taking on the same role — demystifying politics, encouraging political participation in communities of color, advocating for our voices to be heard — for the 2021 NYC mayoral race. I’m also a film producer. I associate produced the award-winning La Madrina: The Savage Life of Lorine Padilla, which got into this year’s Doc NYC and Tribeca Film Festivals. (It also won the Audience Award at Doc NYC.) I’m privileged to be able to work on films that amplify and uplift Black and brown stories — stories that have been systematically silenced.

I’m also a practicing doula in NYC, solely for Black and brown families, supporting them during one of the most transformative experiences in life and helping them navigate the medical world, which is also saturated with systemic racism. Whether through birth work, my archival/oral history project, community organizing, or filmmaking, the throughline remains the same: doing everything that I possibly can for my people. For my community.

2. How do you think you’re making an impact in Latinx communities?

By presenting stories from across the five boroughs told by Latinx folks from across Latin America and the Caribbean — stories about migration, combating assimilation, reclaiming pride in one’s heritage and resiliency — Nuevayorkinos dismantles the monolithic perception of and stereotypes associated with Latinidad. One of the comments I usually receive from people who are part of the Nuevayorkinos community is that this project makes them feel seen.

3. What has been the most rewarding moment you’ve experienced so far?

The most rewarding aspect of Nuevayorkinos is the family that's been created through the project. Coming from a smaller family myself, it feels so nice having built and being part of this reimagined family, albeit mostly virtual. There aren’t very many people whom I've had the pleasure of meeting pre-pandemic at different Nuevayorkinos events, and I can't wait to continue meeting more of our family members once we're out of the storm.

4. How do you hope to inspire others? What do you hope to see in the next generation?

I hope my mission resonates with people and inspires them to do their part. As Black and brown people in a colonial territory, our existence is a testament to our strength, resiliency, will, and love for both our ancestors and future generations. From the climate crisis to national uprisings against systemic racism, not to mention the incredible national mobilization surrounding the presidential and vice presidential election, 2020 has shown us the power of the collective, a power that comes not only from the passion we embody, but also an inherited power from those who laid the foundation. So, I hope that the next generations don't forget their ancestors, are able to recognize how far we've come, but also see the plethora of ways that we've remained stagnant. And for the latter, I hope they find their calling, because the revolution is a communal force and everyone has their way to contribute.

5. Have the events of 2020 altered your mission at all?

2020 didn't necessarily change my mission, but it did catalyze my community organizing work. I always felt a responsibility to leverage my privilege (citizenship and college education) for my community, and it feels incredibly rewarding to be able to use the tools I've been given to amplify and elevate my people and community. As a native New Yorker, seeing how much my beautiful city has been impacted by COVID-19 and its devastating effects on Black and brown communities both here and nationally is one of the most heartbreaking situations I've had to navigate in my life thus far. So, between hosting a Back to School Drive in September (in which we distributed 500 free backpacks full of school supplies for Black and Latinx kids in Bushwick) and planning the last drive of the year (in which we'll be distributing 200 bags of food and winterwear in Bed-Stuy), 2020 has left me feeling incredibly grateful on so many levels, and also excited for all the community organizing to come in 2021 and beyond.

6. What’s next for you and your career?

I don't like to give myself limits, so what's next is what's next. Whether through Nuevayorkinos, filmmaking, or community organizing, I will continue prioritizing my community and advocating for our self-preservation and liberation in every way that I can.

Suzy Exposito

Cuban- and Belizean-American
Music Journalist

Most Likely To Discover
The Next Latinx Music Star

1. Tell us what you do. How did you find your calling?

Music was my first love. As a kid, I used to sprawl out on my living room carpet and watch MTV and VH1 all day. My dad used to pay me a quarter if I could guess the name of a song on the classic rock radio station (but he eventually started running out of quarters!). I began to hone my craft by writing album reviews in my high school newspaper, during the era of Amy Winehouse, Black Eyed Peas, and My Chemical Romance. I was really into anything punk, emo, and indie rock, so naturally I got into making DIY comix and zines. I also fronted an anarchist punk band called Shady Hawkins. It was from writing independently that I got scouted for a gig as a contributor at Rookie Mag in 2012, then eventually wrote for MTV, Pitchfork, and Rolling Stone, where in the span of five years, I interviewed many of my heroes and founded the magazine’s first-ever Latin music section. Now, I’m a music reporter at the Los Angeles Times where I write elaborate character studies of rock stars and cover genres ranging from Latin to hip-hop.

2. How do you think you’re making an impact in Latinx communities?

I just want better for us! The realm of American music criticism has rarely been kind or even attentive to music by Latinxs. As of 2017, we comprise 18% of the population — but in this year alone, the Latin music revenue has grown faster than any other genre in the U.S. And yet, major music institutions like the Recording Academy continue to segregate U.S.-born or -residing artists for singing in Spanish, even if their sales and streaming numbers are comparable to the Taylor Swifts of the world. Such prejudice also shows in how few of us occupy positions in the media, even in cities with sizable Latinx populations like New York City and Los Angeles; for years, I was the lone Latina in the newsroom at Rolling Stone. I simply have no shame when it comes to amplifying Latinxs every chance I get, especially in the many times I’ve been in boardrooms full of white people. Our people bring such a unique perspective and innovation to popular music. Just see how many people around the world love artists like Cardi B or Daddy Yankee, no matter what language they speak. Our cultures' diversity, history, and value are only hard to understand for those who don’t want to understand.

3. What has been the most rewarding moment you’ve experienced so far?

Profiling Bad Bunny for the cover of Rolling Stone was my white whale. It took me over a year to finally execute — for my bosses to put him on the cover was one thing, but for them to let me write the story was another. I had been running the Latin music section for nearly two years, and I wanted us to be integrated into the magazine in a way we hadn’t been before. Latin pop stars like Shakira, Ricky Martin, and J.Lo have graced the cover of Rolling Stone, but only after they produced hits in English. As someone who was teased and forced to switch from speaking Spanish to English as a kid — thanks to some mean teachers, and my family’s desire to assimilate into Anglo-American culture — Bad Bunny’s crusade to cross over entirely in Spanish felt like the tables had finally turned for us in the States.

4. How do you hope to inspire others? What do you hope to see in the next generation?

I want people to release whatever shame or doubt they may carry for being The Only One in a given professional space — or for not even getting the chance. I want the media to take more chances on Latinx communities and compensate us fairly. I want us all to better stand with the Black and Indigenous people in Latinx communities by sharing more opportunities, connections, and resources. There is always enough room for more perspectives.

5. Have the events of 2020 altered your mission at all?

Although I’m not thrilled about the pandemic, it has forced me to make time for pursuits outside of journalism. I’m not a Netflix-binger or a bread-baker; instead I’ve been drawing, studying astrology, and making music just for the hell of it.

6. What’s next for you and your career?

I’ve been doing my dream job for over seven years now, and while I don’t want it to end, I want to keep growing. Last year, I was commissioned to illustrate some pages for Pieces Of A Girl, a grunge-era memoir by my dear friend, YA author Stephanie Kuehnert Lewis. I would love to write and illustrate my own graphic novel; I also dream of being a music supervisor for a movie or TV show.

Duneska Michel

Black-Dominican
Artist, Educator, Community Organizer

Most Likely To
Uplift Your Community

1. Tell us what you do. How did you find your calling?

As a Black-Latinx artist from the Dominican Republic, my work unpacks the concept of “Latinidad'' as a colonial structure, which has a history of separating itself from Blackness. In my most recent work, I refer to the 1937 Parsley Massacre, a genocide of approximately 12,000-35,000 Haitians in the contiguous Cibao region of the Dominican Republic under Rafael Trujillo’s fascist regime (the reason for this discrepancy in fatalities: erasure, to wipe out folks who look like me). In my work now, I’m painting portals and imagining installations that serve to connect me to my ancestors — those who were lost during the massacre.

This same intention drives my work as a community organizer. As someone who is immunocompromised, having been diagnosed with Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome, I felt helpless during the pandemic as well as the Black Lives Matter marches. I wasn’t able to march, but I knew I could help, which led to the inception of Guanabana (which translates to soursop — a fruit I consider unifying because it grows in the Americas, Africa, and the Carribean). As Guanabana, we organized monthly vigils (compliant with social-distancing regulations) to honor Black lives in NYC, during which we offered hand sanitizer, masks, and gloves; supplied food provided by local restaurants; and invited guest speakers from organizations like Playground Coffee Shop, NourishNYC, Mil Mundos Books, and NY Boricua Resistance.

As a result, we’ve been invited to participate in Stage at MoMA PS1, a participatory installation, and our zines will be featured in the Homeroom at PS1, a platform that celebrates the work of artists, activists, and collectives.

2. How do you think you’re making an impact in Latinx communities?

I’m making an impact by questioning the structure of Latinidad as an artist or as a community organizer. I’m dedicated to pursuing decolonial freedom for my communities.

3. What has been the most rewarding moment you’ve experienced so far?

Seeing the amount of energy and time all of the Guanabana volunteers have put in. Folks have shown up and showed out. Our last outdoor program was Dia de los Muertos in Honor of Black Lives where we staged an altar and offered free art-making for families. It was raining and cold, but that didn’t deter a single volunteer. Everyone came in for their shifts prepared to lend a hand, and that filled me with so much joy. To see others in my community understand the value in this work means more to me than anything else.

4. How do you hope to inspire others? What do you hope to see in the next generation?

The only reason I claim Latinidad is because I address Dominican history in my work, but the term itself has never served me, which is why it's so important that I identify as Black-Latinx (with Black intentionally placed first). I see it as a form of rebellion because the Dominican Republic has a history of not only denying its relationship to Blackness, but also channeling that self-hatred into violence against Haitians. My hope is to inspire others within Latinx communities to pursue decolonial freedom, which means dismantling whiteness, and frankly, dismantling Latinidad. It’s important to me (and to many others), that programs like Somos do not differentiate Latinx femmes from Black femmes, as many Black femmes are Latinx and vice versa.

5. Have the events of 2020 altered your mission at all?

This year has reinforced my priorities. A myth that persists within the art community is that an artist must enjoy isolation and rely on self-reflection. I disagree: My work as a community organizer and what I learn from my community are integral to my practice. Now more than ever, it’s important that artists from every field respond to the current state of the world, because the murder of Black people is not just a Black issue — white supremacy oppresses us all.

6. What’s next for you and your career?

Brainstorming grocery and food distributions, hosting space and art activities for families and children, submitting proposals for installation concepts, researching for educational materials, and more.

In partnership with Ulta Beauty, we're proud to present the Somos Class Of 2020 — a cohort of eight incredibly talented and inspiring Latinas who, in their own unique ways, have set out to uplift, empower, and ultimately make a difference in Latinx communities. Click on each portrait to listen to them discuss their work, read about how they found their calling, and learn how you can join them in making an impact.

In partnership with Ulta Beauty, we're proud to present the Somos Class Of 2020 — a cohort of eight incredibly talented and inspiring Latinas who, in their own unique ways, have set out to uplift, empower, and ultimately make a difference in Latinx communities. Click on each portrait to listen to them discuss their work, read about how they found their calling, and learn how you can join them in making an impact.

In partnership with Ulta Beauty, we're proud to present the Somos Class Of 2020 — a cohort of eight incredibly talented and inspiring Latinas who, in their own unique ways, have set out to uplift, empower, and ultimately make a difference in Latinx communities. Click on each portrait to listen to them discuss their work, read about how they found their calling, and learn how you can join them in making an impact.

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