Pitbull

Oliver Stone’s 1983 cinematic classic Scarface was a fraud—for the most part. Not the film’s message, that living by the gun and sniffing a Costco amount of coke will eventually lead to one’s demise, but the character of Tony Montana was far from realistic. Al Pacino’s infamous performance forever vilified Cuban immigrants in the minds of American audiences as criminals. Very few people remember Montana’s humble beginnings as a dishwasher in the early stages of the film. According to Cuban-Americans like Miami-based MC Pitbull, that image was more in line with the average cubano living in Florida during the ’80s. Before any outsider can truly understand the dynamics of these Cuban immigrants, they must first know the history.

It all began with a car crash on April 1, 1980. The driver was seeking asylum and rammed his vehicle through the gates of the Peruvian embassy in Havana, which caused immediate pandemonium among the people. By the time President Fidel Castro pulled security from the area, around 10,000 Cuban citizens demanded to leave the Communist island. Although the defiance angered “El Caballo,” he agreed to open the doors to anyone that wanted to leave on April 20th. There was a catch though. Along with the initial 10,000 people seeking refuge, Castro tossed in what he called “undesirables.” For the most part, they were comprised of political prisoners, homosexual artists, religious sectarians like Jehovah’s Witnesses, the mentally disabled and some of the most violent criminals Cuba had to offer. Castro, along with the US media, labeled the approximate 125,000 refugees as Marielitos, a name derived from Cuba’s Port of Mariel where most of them left the island country. No one wanted them. Not even US-residing Cubans.

“Castro’s a bully. He bullies his people. He basically does whatever the f**k he wants to do. I have no respect [for] Castro.” —PITBULL

“There was a lot of racism towards Marielitos within the Cuban community. Oh, tu ere un Marielito, no te puedo dar trabajo aqui. (Oh, you’re a Marielito. I can’t give you work). But we overcame that,” says Pit, whose sophomore album is named El Mariel in honor of that struggle. “There weren’t really a lot of opportunities for Latinos. Of course, you’re gonna have your bad batch, but at the end of the day [Marielitos] have done a lot for Miami. The city grew real quick as soon as the Marielitos came. They were movers and shakers. They were making it happen out there any way they had to.”

It’s one thing to be discriminated against by another race, but to be disliked by your own people can be devastating. Cubans who came to the States prior to 1980 were predominantly White professionals. Once rumblings of Marielitos being Castro’s castoffs hit Florida, these same Cubans viewed the new crop as a threat to their pristine image.

“Because Cubans had already established a well-oiled community in Miami, they were viewed as the model minority,” says Prof. Alan Aja of Brooklyn College’s Puerto Rican and Latino Studies department. “Half of the established community wanted to help the Marielitos, but the other half were upset because they didn’t want to be associated with los Marielitos because they were seen as ‘undesirables.’ The media was casting them as these low-skilled Black workers and because of how racist this country is, [some] Cubans wanted to pass for White. Their Whiteness was access for them.”

White America, along with biased Cubans, was convinced that Marielitos would inundate Miami with crime. An opinion further propagated by films like Scarface, where Montana’s version of the American dream includes drugs, murder and violence.

“A lot of the cats that came over in El Mariel were called escoria (scum), you know, the bottom of the barrel,” says Pit. “A lot of them came from prisons and mental institutions but there were a lot of good people too. I’m sure a lot of those cats that were criminals turned their lives around into a positive. Of course, you had the whole Cuban crime wave—the Miami Vice, Scarface, the cocaine but eso viene con todo (that comes with everything). To everything there’s a positive. To everything positive there’s a negative.”

“[The Port of] Mariel was a quest for freedom. It shows triumph and making something out of nothing. My family was brought through it as well and I’m a product of that.” —PITBULL

During the early ’80s, Marielitos experienced some of the worst discrimination Latinos have ever faced in this country. According to a September 1983 report in the Atlanta Journal Constitution, the Miami Beach City Commission approved an ordinance that gave the police the authority to inspect the homes of people who were willing to sponsor the citizenship of Cuban refugees from federal prison. A little over a year later, many of those Marielitos were becoming legal residents and rumors of them sponsoring a half million more Cuban immigrants scared the American public.

“The Marielitos were racialized and ostracized by the Cuban government, Cuban exilic leaders and the mainstream media because they represented the present-day Cuba as opposed to the mostly White, high-skilled elites who arrived in the 1960’s,” says Prof. Aja. “The Marielitos were relatively low-skilled political prisoners, artists, gays and up to 40 percent were of African descent.”

Most of the fear and discrimination many Marielitos faced was unfounded. According to a 1980 edition of the Monthly Labor Review, which gathers INS reports, 84 percent of these refugees didn’t even have prison records in Cuba. Furthermore, most of those serving sentences were imprisoned for crimes that wouldn’t be penalized in the States—like stealing food rations or clothes. Due to the constant marginalization, specifically of Black Cubans, many wound up settling in non-Cuban communities.

“A lot of the Black Marielitos ended growing up among African-American and Haitian communities or leaving Miami altogether because of the racism,” says Prof. Aja. “Cubans like to say that there is no racism here [in the States], but there’s racism in Cuba. I don’t think that’s ever been true. You’ve always had White Cubans hating Black Cubans [in America].”

Therein lies the significance of Pitbull naming his album El Mariel. Marielitos were predominantly portrayed as Afro-Cubans and stereotypically classified as no-good bums; Pit is neither. As a light-skinned cubano, he could easily turn his back on the plight of his darker-skinned brothers and sisters; instead, the Miami rapper embraces Black culture in all its forms.

“I haven’t read or heard Pitbull’s lyrics or music,” Prof. Aja confesses. “But based on the title of his album, his identification with the racialized stigma of the Marielitos—especially as an artist in a historically Black art form—can be seen as either embracing Blackness or at the same time be seen as an example of the further ghettoization of peoples, music and culture, in the US.”

“People just got a misconception of Pitbull. They’re like, ‘Oh is he reggaeton? Is he crunk? Is he that?’ Nah, he does music.” —PITBULL

“The reason I chose that title was because [the Port of] Mariel was a quest for freedom,” explains Pit. “It shows triumph and making something out of nothing. My family was brought through it as well and I’m a product of that.”

The child of Marielito parents, Pitbull was almost born on one of the boats traveling to Florida from Cuba’s Port of Mariel. Taking his first breath on American soil, Pit grew up in an era when Miami was still on the cusp of becoming a booming city. There was, however, a thriving crime scene as well.

“I was a very young kid when the Marielitos came in and had their crime wave,” says the 25-year-old born Armando Christian Perez. “My mother was like, ‘I don’t want you going out. I don’t want you getting into trouble.’ Miami at the time was full of drugs and people just trying to get it.”

At the advice of his parents, Pitbull kept himself busy by memorizing the poetry of Cuban revolutionary José Martí. After that, the transition to writing his own lyrics came easy. Becoming a lyrical force in MIA’s underground battling scene, he signed with TVT Records in 2003 and released his gold-selling debut, M.I.A.M.I. (Money Is A Major Issue) a year later. Despite all his triumphs, Pit admits that it’s still tough for a Latino MC to make it in a world of predominantly Black artists and White label execs. Aside from Fat Joe, there aren’t many prominent Latinos in the world of hip-hop today. Sure, Big Pun broke barriers as the first solo rapper of Spanish decent to go platinum, but since his death in 2000, it seems like the door has been bolted shut for other Latino artists.

That may soon change thanks to the efforts of Sean “Diddy” Combs. Last year, the hip-hop mogul announced plans to launch a Bad Boy Latino imprint with Pitbull serving as the A&R. Although the label has yet to fully get off the ground, Pit hopes to do his part to help increase the presence of his people in hip-hop. In fact, a few weeks after the summer release of El Mariel, he’s putting out a Spanish-only version of the album—a first for a mainstream MC.

“I did a couple of tracks on El Mariel that are straight Afro-Cuban—straight percussion,” says Pit. “I got a live ritual going on. Praying to the god Chango and all that. I chopped it up and made a record out of it. It’s called ‘Ya Se Acabo (It’s Over).’ People just got a misconception of Pitbull. They’re like, ‘Oh is he reggaeton? Is he crunk? Is he that?’ Nah, he does music.”

“Cubans like to say that there is no racism here [in the States], but there’s racism in Cuba. I don’t think that’s ever been true. You’ve always had White Cubans hating Black Cubans [in America].” —PROF. ALAN AJA

While Pitbull continues to make major moves in the States, he constantly thinks about his homeland and its controversial figurehead. Many critics feel that Castro has slowly derailed from his revolutionary ideals since the 1967 execution of his comrade in arms Che Guevara. Once the jewel of the Caribbean, Cuba has become a place where many Cubans would much rather visit than live.

“Castro’s a bully. He bullies his people. He basically does whatever the fuck he wants to do,” says Pit flatly. “I have no respect [for] Castro. What he did to our people, our culture. The only thing that he did that turned into a positive is the way he made us move and get off the island and we had to learn another culture, another language which only made us stronger.”

In spite of their dictator, many Marielitos and their children have come to embody all of the elements of the American dream. Take Pitbull for example. He’s a successful rap star and a budding record exec. He has helped reggaeton crossover, solidified Latinos’ place in mainstream hip-hop and made it acceptable to be an artist who’s not afraid to speak his mind.

“All I’ve been looking for is respect in the game,” says Pit. “Now that I’ve touched down and the game let me in it’s time to take full advantage of it, like the Marielitos did in Miami. Yes, some were criminals, some came from a negative background but you have those who became politicians, lawyers, judges, and doctors, you name it. Now that I got my foot in the door it’s time to take opportunities like the Marielitos did.”

- By Jesús Triviño Alarcón

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