On Sunday, Brazilians elected a racist, fascist, homophobe as their 39th president. Jair Bolsonaro captured 55 percent of the vote over center-left candidate Fernando Haddad.
Last week, Jair Bolsonaro, Brazil’s white, hard-right presidential candidate, received an unexpected American endorsement.
Like most people who use Instagram, I peruse the platform to seek out black beauty—men and woman. I live in Brazil, a country that is more than 50 percent black. But you wouldn’t know that by the faces you see on television, in magazines and even on mainstream websites.
They walked 2.5 miles to the site of her assassination, all the while dancing, chanting and crying. On that hot and muggy night on April 14 in Rio de Janeiro, more than 3,000 people gathered at the center of Rio to demand police action in the murder of Afro-Brazilian politician Marielle Franco and to mark the…
Editor’s note: This story has been updated.
The United States isn’t the only country with a bad case of “blackface.”
Sheryland Neal wanted to be a Deusa do Ébano—an “Ebony Goddess,” in Portuguese.
Thaisa Moreira Xavier met her husband in a Facebook group.
Just four years ago, Monica Almeida, 34, an Afro-Brazilian woman living in Rio de Janeiro, didn’t identify as a black woman.
Candomblé priestess Carmen Flores was leaving her house three months ago when seven armed men confronted her.
A few weeks ago, Dove captured the prize for the dumbest marketing campaign, and this week, a Brazilian brand of luxury toilet paper is trying to wrestle it away.
There’s another social justice march this weekend, and black women are refusing to be left behind. The March for Black Women will take place Saturday in Washington, D.C.—smack in the middle of the March for Racial Justice.
Say her name: Recy Taylor. In 1944, 24-year-old Recy Taylor and two friends were walking back from a late-night church service in Abbeville, Ala., when seven young white men in a car stopped them and threatened them with a gun. Taylor was forced to enter the car, and the men drove off with her into the woods.
When Haiti unveiled Le Negré Marron statue in 1967, it became a symbol for freedom of black people across the world. The sculpture is a reminder of the rebellion against the French that set the Haitians free.