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Moving
the Grammys Won't Still the Note of Discord
Relocating the Latin awards show is shameful
spin control, Miami native says.
By
MARIA ELENA FERNANDEZ, TIMES STAFF WRITER
Dear
Mr. C. Michael Greene, president and chief
executive of the National Academy of
Recording Arts and Sciences:
Like
a catchy tune, your words about my hometown
keep echoing in my head. You moved the Latin
Grammys to Los Angeles because Miami's Cuban
exiles, you said, jeopardized the safety of
the event's 7,000 attendees by forcing them
to march a dangerous "gantlet"
past Cuban demonstrators.
"Having
to run that gantlet is demeaning at best and
dangerous at worst," you said. A
gantlet? Hmm. This would require the
attendees and the demonstrators to be in
close proximity, no? But the "safety
zone"--a compromise agreed to by
protesters who oppose the participation of
musicians from Cuba because they believe it
serves as international propaganda for Cuban
President Fidel Castro--would have placed
the demonstrators across an eight-lane
boulevard, in front of the Cuban community's
historic Freedom Tower. The plan also called
for county-provided shuttle buses, which
would have transported between 3,500 and
3,800 attendees from police-guarded
satellite parking lots to the arena.
Everyone else would have driven up to the
red carpet itself, at least 150 to 200 feet
from the closest protesters, according to
Miami police. Was it your belief that the
gantlet would stretch across Biscayne
Boulevard, a road as wide and as
well-traveled as Santa Monica Boulevard? Or
were you expecting El Duque to show up and
throw some eggs for the home team?
Then
there's your declaration that "the
academy was made aware that protestors had
secured tickets to the show and were
organizing a disruption to the live
telecast." That would also be quite a
feat, considering the show is not public,
getting tickets is next to impossible, and
the Miami police have said they had no such
intelligence. Let's not forget this is a
high-profile event that calls for the
highest security measures, protesters or
not.
Could
it be, Mr. Greene, that the global image of
this event is what drove you to pull your
show out of this nation's Latin-American
capital, and with it a community's
constitutional rights? Wouldn't the safety
zone allow exiles better visibility in front
of the cameras, thereby giving them
international exposure? Don't want to be
upstaged, huh?
I
am a first-generation Cuban American, born
and raised in that hotbed of a city, the one
with the reputation for anti-Castro
fanatics. When people ask me why mi gente
, my people, are so imposing, loudmouthed
and opinionated about the Castro regime, I
ask them if they've ever lost anything. Or
worse, everything.
A
lot of Americans tend to forget that Cubans
did not leave their island to make a better
living or to seek higher education. In my
family, for example, there were lawyers,
doctors, teachers, landowners, and
restaurateurs--30-something (and older)
professionals who boarded freedom flights in
the 1960s, leaving behind their assets and
personal belongings, to start over in a
country where they knew no one and did not
speak the language.
Before
they were granted their exit visas, my
father spent 18 months in jail as a
political prisoner and my uncle in an
agricultural concentration camp. Their
crimes? Disagreeing with the Castro regime.
They left everything for the right to
express themselves. And we were among the
lucky, Mr. Greene. Few of our relatives
stayed on the island, but there are many
Cubans who have not seen their loved ones in
30 or 40 years.
My
generation of civic leaders lobbied to lure
your Grammys to Miami, in part, to help rid
the city of its "banana republic"
perception, fueled largely by the Elian
Gonzalez saga. We are concerned the nation
we grew up in views us all as a bunch of
extremists and ignores the four decades of
suffering our parents and grandparents have
endured. This profound loss is what drives
the older generation of Cuban exiles to
protest the attendance and recognition of
musicians from Cuba at the Grammys. They
believe this is a form of political and
ideological support to the Castro regime.
While I understand that viewpoint, I, like
many of the Cubans or Cuban Americans of my
generation, don't share it.
As
a writer, I do not see the politics in
music. Like you, I view songs as art. But
because democracy is what we are striving
for, the freedom to express that art should
be held in as high regard as the freedom to
protest it. I, like my peers, want the music
of my people to be heard and celebrated
worldwide; Cubans on the island have
been silenced for too long.
"It's
the wrong protest against the wrong
people," wrote Miami Herald Pulitzer
Prize-winning (Cuban) columnist Liz
Balmaseda. "Cuban musicians, even those
who thrive within the revolution, are not
The Enemy. They are not the kingpins of
Cuba's repressive system. In fact, they are
often victims of that regime."
Or
as Cuban pop salsa star Willy Chirino put
it, "Sept. 11 would have been the day
of freedom for artistic expression inside
Cuba."
Amen.
Unfortunately,
thanks to you, Mr. Greene, Sept. 11 will now
live on as the day Cuban exiles got a bitter
taste of 40-year-old medicine in the country
of liberty and justice for all. It is
obvious your decision has little to do with
safety, and everything to do with protecting
your sense of prestige.
You
are entitled to a bright and shiny event,
but you've been grossly irresponsible in
your depiction of the so-called peril your
VIPs faced. The truth is you didn't want the
loud chants of angry exiles or their pained
faces broadcast around the world. You've
never said there shouldn't be protests. But
does the fact that you're in show business
mean you can manipulate the location of a
protest to ensure that news cameras only
capture your glitz? Don't those who want to
speak out against a certain aspect of your
star-studded show have a right to be seen
and heard too?
In
case you didn't know, an estimated 80,000
Cubans live in Southern California. Although
there is some hard-line opposition, the
exiles in this area have been generally
supportive of Cuba's musicians for several
years, and are in favor of having them
showcased and acknowledged at the Latin
Grammys.
But
don't be mistaken: The Cubans here cherish
their freedom above all else. Don't be
surprised if, on Sept. 11, some of them
decide to show you just how much.
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