The past: Latin History for Morons

I’m sorry you didn’t see actor and comedian John Leguizamo‘s Latin History for Morons because it’s brilliant. Like his other stand-up specials, it’s hilarious and physical, yet sad and very real, but this show, in particular, is extremely well-researched and -scripted and it’s such important work.

The hubs and I went to see the live version of the show (which you can see on Netflix now, if not in person) last Friday upon my heavy suggestion. We’d already seen the special on Netflix, but I could watch it over and over again. Needless to say, I knew what I was getting myself into.

Leguizamo dives deep in Latin American in true revisionist fashion, debunking popular history beliefs and revisiting what’s been written by the victors. He explores the facts based on the conquered – our ancestors who made great contributions to America before it was “discovered.”

The history of real Latinos

In my life, all my history, civics, and social studies teachers dictated facts from books, making us memorize dates and names of old white men who had nothing to do with my history, and never ever piqued my interest.

That was, until, Mr. Estey’s American history class in high school. Mr. Estey was a cowboy. He said things like, “Real men don’t use lotion.” He also called me damn hippie with fake contempt. He loved and cared about what he taught us and he made the stories come to life. He wove tales of pioneers and indigenous Americans, battles, loss, dreams, and victories. He gave the stories color.

Leguizamo does the same. Early on in Latin History for Morons, the self-dubbed ghetto scholar said, “If you don’t see yourself represented outside of yourself you feel fucking invisible.”

The historical figures in his accounts become real people, with wishes, desires, and failings. They have context in our modern lives and have shaped the world in which we live. So much color. You feel reflected.

The face of Latinos in media

Things are getting better. In movies and TV, we’ve expanded beyond the roles of housekeepers and drug dealers. Now we’re buxom housewives, hard-working middle-class family men, and beyond. But more often than not, Latinos are still caricatures of themselves in media.

That’s why I’m grateful for Leguizamo. I believe that when you are in a place of privilege, you have to use your platform to represent your community, people that face the same struggles as you but don’t have the same opportunity. Leguizamo is a star, and he’s using his fame to educate and elevate our community. He’s helping us stand in our power.

But like I said, it’s getting better. When I was growing up, 30+ years ago, Latinos were essentially invisible in mainstream media. In the absence of Latinos, people who looked and sounded like me, most of my heroes were black. In fact, the movie Fame was the first I identified with culturally.

I knew I wasn’t black. Maybe the furthest thing from it. But I was more strongly convinced that I wasn’t anything like who I was seeing in the media. Most of my heroes were African American, neoriqueños, or liberation theologist men of the cloth. Weird, I know.

Today, thanks to strides we’ve made in media and in real life, I could fill a dinner party with my LatinX heroes, starting with Isabel Allende, Ruben Blades, and of course, John Leguizamo.

If you have two hours and want to laugh, undo your education, expand your horizons, and support diversity, please check out Latin History for Morons. Although the live show paralleled the TV special, there were still parts that made me snort or laugh hysterically. I firmly believe all Americans should watch it, and LatinX in particular. It’s our story. A tragic American love story.