Afro-Mexican Actors Combating Racism Honor Their Heritage

TICMAN, Mexico (AP) – Mexican actress Elendilla Castrera sensed something unique about her physique, though she struggled to articulate it fully.

Some casting directors remarked that she was “too tall” to portray a Mexican woman, while others suggested her features weren’t sufficiently “indigenous.”

“It was only later that I learned what it truly means to identify as Afro,” Castella reflected. “We comprise a diverse community, yet we often don’t recognize this due to prevailing discrimination.”

Her life transformed after she joined Murato Teatro, a theater company dedicated to empowering African actors in their quest for careers despite racial adversity. Yet, like many Afro-Mexican activists, Castrera feels there’s still a long journey ahead for national consciousness.

“Look around you and you’ll see curly hair, pronounced cheekbones, full lips, or darker skin,” remarked the 33-year-old. “However, there are scars that impede our self-recognition.”

Afromexican lineage

Unlike the U.S., where Black history is acknowledged and embraced, support for Black individuals remains limited in Mexico.

“The notion of mixed race undermines the cultural diversity that defines us as Mexicans,” asserted Maria Elisa Belazuquez, a researcher at the National School of Anthropology and History. “We are not solely indigenous; we also encompass Europeans, Africans, and Asians.”

Historically, the Mesoamerican territories, which fell under Spanish rule in the 16th century, were populated by indigenous groups. However, less attention has been given to the fact that some mixed-race individuals in Mexico have ancestry tracing back to enslaved African peoples.

Velázquez noted that the development of communities that embraced Black individuals was shaped by geographical contexts. “Many Afro-Mexicans formed bonds and coexist with diverse Indigenous groups, resulting in uneven communities,” she explained.

Projected figures for 2024 indicate that Mexico’s Afro-Mexican population stands at 3.1 million, primarily residing in Guerrero, Morelos, Colima, and Quintana Roo, identifying mostly as African Mexicans, with about two-thirds recognizing themselves as Indigenous people.

Embracing Her True Identity

Born in Morelos, adjacent to Mexico City, Castorela recalls poring over family photo albums, pondering her ancestral links to Africa, as her relatives’ features left no room for doubt.

“We often spun tales that concealed our origins,” she recalled. “Someone would always say: ‘But there was a blonde in my family,’ or ‘Grandma had distinct features.’

Despite not having curls or a complexion akin to other Afro women, she affirmed that her body tells no lies.

In her early acting career, she felt restrained during ballet classes; the choreography seemed mismatched to her build and soul until she discovered African dance.

“In African dance, there’s liberation and fluidity, allowing me to feel much freer,” she noted. “Identifying as an African Mexican has provided me the spiritual peace I needed—it’s a place where I can mirror myself.”

A Career of Determination

The theater company, co-founded in the early 2000s by another Afro woman who faced hurdles in her acting career, is where Castorela and 20 other artists collaborate.

Colombian-born Marisol Castillo, who hails from a nation with roughly 10% of the population being Black, described her physical features as no hindrance to her aspirations. However, everything shifted when she fell for Mexican playwright Jaime Chabo and relocated to his hometown.

“Many expect us to conform to their ideals of beauty, which often align with whiteness,” said Castillo. “When we diverge from those ideals, we hear: ‘You’re a poor actor, you don’t measure up.’ But we simply don’t fit that mold.”

Many times, casting directors have restricted the roles available to Castillo, primarily assigning her roles of prostitutes, exotic dancers, maids, and slaves, which led to the inception of “Mulato Teatro” in collaboration with Chabo.

“The awareness was scarce; it pushed me to write plays for her,” Chabo recounted.

A Narrative of African and Mexican Heritage

Chabo’s plays reflect a rich diversity, encapsulating the varied lived experiences of the actors. “Black Decamerons in African Erotic Stories” integrates the perspectives of African communities, drawing inspiration from oral storytelling traditions. “Yanga” recounts the tale of a historical Black figure from the 17th century, revered as the liberator of Veracruz, Mexico.

His creativity embraces not only African folklore and heroes but also narratives embedded in Mesoamerican culture. “Where are you going, Mr. Opossum?” narrates the story of “tlacuache,” an ancient being from the region’s mythology.

In Chabo’s play, Tlacuache steals fire from the goddess, salvaging humanity from hunger and despair. Although lacking divine authority, his capacity to feign death allows him to bypass the jaguar, the deity’s guard of fire.

“Jaime often mentions that we should revere Mr. Tlacuache instead of the other gods,” noted Aldo Martin, who plays the lead role.