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Aquí Hay Una Mezcla: Dominican Women’s Transnational Identities in Santo Domingo by Rachel Afi Quinn A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (American Culture) in The University of Michigan 2012 Doctoral Committee: Associate Professor Evelyn A. Alsultany, Chair Associate Professor Maria Cotera Associate Professor Jesse Hoffnung-Garskof Assistant Professor Lori L. Brooks © Rachel Afi Quinn 2012 Dedication To two amazing women of wholly different worlds and different generations. Although neither lived to see me arrive at this moment, their lives forever inspire my will to struggle forward: My grandmother Lillian “Billie” Barsky and my oldest sister Bernice Kafui Glover. I am so glad you had the chance to meet. ii Acknowledgements When I first traveled to Ghana at seventeen, my father’s mother named Ametorlesi, meaning “many people behind you” to indicate that I have a broad community of support. his could not be more true! This project was a journey that took me to places I was not certain I was ready to go, but I went forward with a faith that the world around me would show me what I needed to learn. Numerous transnational communities have sustained me over the years, friendships new and old have fed my body, heart and spirit throughout this onerous process of thinking and writing that has helped me to expand who I am and how view the world. As someone who thrives on the energy and inspiration of others, I have had the opportunity to connect with many more amazing people over the years then I will remember to name here—nevertheless, I will try! Thank you to my professors at University of Michigan in the Program in American Culture, with whom it has been a pleasure to work. For the amount that they have taught me in the short time I have worked with them, I thank my committee members: Maria Cotera, for inspiring me to live my politics; Jesse Hoffnun-Garskof for his thoughtful conversations and great faith in my contributions as a scholar; Lori Brooks for unassumingly teaching me to read visual culture as an expert; and I am pleased to thank my advisor, Evelyn Azeeza Alsultany for her tireless encouragement—her consistent support and friendship was a lifeline that would carry my through my graduate career. Thanks also Tiya Miles for leading me to utilize skills in research that I did not yet realize I had (and for bringing me back to my work with youth). Also, many thanks to Nadine Naber, Magdalena Zabarowska, Sandra Gunning, Amy Carroll, Brandi Hughes, Sarita See and Richard Turits. The mentorship that I have received throughout my graduate career—from peers, colleagues, and friends—has been significant: Patricia Moonsammy, Tayana Hardin, Roxana Galusca, Viticia Thames, Menna Demessie, Vanessa Diaz, Lara Stein-Pardo, Azza Basarudin, Moya Bailey, Lisa Kahaleole Hall, Tania Triana, Salamishah Tillet, Aishah Simmons, Bryant Holsenbeck, Mark Anthony Neal, Sandy Placido, Kimberly Simmons, I thank you. I would not have been prepared to do this project in this way if it were not for two weeks at Cornell as part of the Transnational Feminist Theory workshop with Chandra Mohanty and Beverly Guy-Sheftall in 2009. Future of Minority Studies Research Group has been an outstanding network through which I have and continue to feel supported and encouraged to do my best work from the place of my ideals. I am also thankful to have been a part of the Black Humanities Collective at University of iii Michigan and I am grateful for the warmth and intellectual community I found in the Department of Afroamerican and African Studies there. I thank my Ghanaian family, who remind me of what is important in this world: my father, Bernard Kwesi Glover, and each of my many wonderful siblings. I am blessed to have adopted mothers and siblings in the places I have lived over the years. They have helped to raise me into adulthood: the fantastic Davi Ruby Dey, and my chosen sisters Aseye, Emefa and Nayram; mi mamá in the Dominican Republic, Zuni Rosario Batista, and mis hermanos Liberman, Darlene, Carlos Luis, Jerilee, and Ana Celia, who have welcomed me whole heartedly into the chaos of family. I also could not know the DR in the same way without the support and friendship of Marta, Mercedes, Griselda García and my familia at CEIC; including friend and language instructor, Ana Francisca Acevedo. Un mil gracias to the rest of my wonderful and amazing community in the DR, who keep me connected to the vibrancy of Santo Domingo when I am near and far: Tasmy Elizabeth Gomez Parahoy, Yaneris Gonzalez Gomez, Sarah Adler-Milstein, Arcy Rosemery, Michelle Ricardo, Aurora Martinez, Glaem Parls, Carolina Contreras, Diana Perez, Octavio Peña, Alejandra Prido, Marco Morales, Quisqueya Lora and others. Thanks also to Meg Hendrickson and Roberto Obando; Frank Moya Pons and April Mayes. I would not have made it through this journey without the space to process all I have learned all with my dear friend Erika Martinez, a great roommate and travel companion! Thanks also to my past partner in crime, Shana Weaver, for traveling with me to graduate school in Ann Arbor and always being ready for the next adventure. This writing would not be possible without the support of many graduate writing groups and workshops included the IRWG/Rackham Community of Scholars, as well as more recent writing buddies and last minute reviewers: Kristy Rawson, Grace Kennedy, Catherine Benson and Shannon Winston-Dolan. Endless gratitude goes to my impressively consistent writing partner Jillian Baez, and many others who have joined me along the way. Thank you to my patient and thoughtful dissertation writing coach, Lisa Borchetta of Firebird Coaching. Plus, a very special thanks to dear friends who knew me long before I started this journey to grad school: Bridgette Bissonnette, Christen Clougherty, SaraT Mayer, and Andrea Yeager, Elodia Villaseñor—all of whom inspire me to try my best and dare me to be great. Finally, a great many thanks to my mother, Naomi R. Quinn, it is abundantly clear that we are cut from the same cloth. Siempre. iv Preface: Ay/I/Eye The quality of light by which we scrutinize our lives has direct bearing upon the product which we live, and upon the changes which we hope to bring about through those lives. It is within this light that we form those ideas by which we pursue our magic and make it realized. —Audre Lorde Our Mixed Race Bodies Ourselves The Dominican Republic (DR) is the only place I have ever lived in which I can visually blend in as part of the majority—in the US, I am considered “black”(like my father), while in West Africa I am “white” (like my mother). I resemble the people around me in the DR because the majority of the population is racially mixed of African and European descent.1 My brown skin, light brown eyes and curly hair seem to place me there. With this study, I inserted myself into unique and diverse contexts in the DR in hopes of gaining greater understanding of contemporary constructions of race and gender in Santo Domingo in the 21st century. Not surprisingly, I have studied Dominican women’s identities through the lens of my own personal experiences with race and gender. As a woman of Ghanaian and Eastern European Jewish descent, a unique perspective on race and racial ambiguity informs my work. Being racially mixed of African descent has informed my experience in each location in the DR that I have placed myself.2 My mixed race body—far more common in the US today than just 20 years ago— has sparked numerous questions and moments of curiosity for people living in predominantly monoracial US communities. Whereas in the past the “one drop rule” in the US enforced boundaries of whiteness and blackness, the category “mixed race” has 1 Just as I use the ubiquitous term “US,” in reference to the United States, I use the term “DR” to refer to the Dominican Republic, where Dominicans frequently refer to the country as “rd” for Republica Dominicana, pronouncing it—and sometimes writing it—as “rrrrrre-de,” for emphasis. In contrast, North Americans who vacation in the DR or are familiar with vacation materials, typically refer to the country as “The Dominican.” 2 Although I have one white parent and one black parent, I rarely use the term “biracial” to define myself. This difference is likely generational and I came of age with a generation that coined and used the term “mixed.” v recently emerged out of a white middle class that has demanded recognition for their children of color and an acknowledgement of the existence of their multiracial families. This organized movement was focused in particular around the lead up to the 2000 census in determining how these families would identify themselves and thus become a visible minority. 3 “Mixed race” as a social construction relies on an investment in the existence of racial categories; for this reason scholars of race frequently object to its existence. The concept inadvertently reinscribes racial hierarchies while the celebration of “mixed race” contributes to a hierarchy of color—one that is widely understood by people of color in the US and capitalized on by mainstream media. In the DR, a comparable color hierarchy in which lightness is preferred, and mixedness is fetishized, is overtly engaged. Current discourse on race the US and in the DR is not taking place within a vacuum but emerges from a globally-produced and globally-consumed media and popular culture that is thick with racial signifiers and racial mixture.

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