Latest news with #Cuban-American
The Sun
2 days ago
- Business
- The Sun
Trump pushes forward on mass layoffs at Voice of America
WASHINGTON: President Donald Trump's administration on Friday ordered mass layoffs at Voice of America and other government-funded media, moving ahead with gutting the outlets despite legal disputes and criticism that US adversaries will benefit. Kari Lake, a fervent Trump supporter named to a senior role at the US Agency for Global Media, said the notices were a 'long-overdue effort to dismantle a bloated, unaccountable bureaucracy.' Lake said in a statement that she would work with the State Department and Congress to 'make sure the telling of America's story is modernized, effective and aligned with America's foreign policy.' Trump issued an order in March that froze Voice of America (VOA) for the first time since it was founded in 1942. Termination notices were sent to 639 employees on Friday, after previous offers of voluntary departures and dismissals of contractors. Some 1,400 positions have been eliminated, with only 250 remaining, Lake said. Voice of America layoffs included journalists from its Persian service who had briefly been brought back to work after Israel attacked Iran a week ago. Employees have filed a lawsuit challenging Lake's actions, which come even though Congress had already appropriated funding. The mass firing decision 'spells the death of 83 years of independent journalism that upholds the US ideals of democracy and freedom around the world,' the three plaintiffs wrote in a statement. 'Moscow, Beijing, Tehran and extremist groups are flooding the information space with anti-American propaganda. Do not cede this ground by silencing America's voice,' said the three complainants, Patsy Widakuswara, Jessica Jerreat and Kate Neeper. Senator Jeanne Shaheen, the top Democrat on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, said that the 'decimation of US broadcasting leaves authoritarian propaganda unchecked by US backed independent media and is a perversion of the law and congressional intent.' 'It is a dark day for the truth,' she wrote on X. Trump frequently attacks media outlets and has scoffed at the so-called editorial firewall at VOA which prevents the government from intervening in its coverage, something he at times has considered too critical of his administration. One outlet preserved by the mass cuts has been Radio Marti, which broadcasts into Cuba and enjoys support from anti-communist Cuban-American Republican lawmakers. Other outlets funded by the US government have included Radio Free Asia, which was set up to provide news to Asian countries without a free press and is now operating in a limited capacity. Radio Free Europe, formed with a similar mission for Soviet bloc nations during the Cold War, has survived thanks to support from the Czech government.
Miami Herald
2 days ago
- Politics
- Miami Herald
Miami's Hispanic Republicans push back on Trump's mass-deportation agenda
In letters, public statements and social media posts, Republican lawmakers from Miami are pushing back on President Donald Trump's mass deportation efforts. And even some of his most loyal Cuban-American backers are joining the chorus. At a bilingual press conference outside of the Federal Detention Center in downtown Miami on Tuesday, U.S. Rep. Carlos Gimenez said he does not agree with Trump's one-size-fits-all approach to immigration He said cases should be handled on a case by case basis because every immigrant's situation is different. 'We are working hard to express our opinion and let the President and the administration know that there is a better way, a more just way, for the people here in Miami-Dade County. Because they are our neighbors, and productive members of society,' he told reporters. His remarks come as several Cuban-American officials from Miami, at both the state and federal level, have expressed disapproval and fear regarding the Trump administration's immigration enforcement and policies that heavily target Cubans, Venezuelans, and Haitians — all communities with significant populations in South Florida. READ MORE: 'Inhumane:' Latinas for Trump founder condemns White House immigration crackdown Republican state Sen. Ileana Garcia, one of Trump's staunchest backers in Tallahassee, blasted Trump's mass deportation policies as 'unacceptable' and 'inhumane.' 'This is not what we voted for,' she wrote in a statement. U.S. Rep. Maria Elvira Salazar, also a Republican, has said she is 'heartbroken' amid the uncertainty in her district and warned that recent actions threaten due process. And GOP Rep. Mario Diaz-Balart recently sent a letter to Homeland Security noting he was 'increasingly concerned' with the 'growing cases' of the detentions and possible deportations of people fleeing oppressive regimes. READ MORE: Miami congressman urges Noem not to deport Venezuelan torture victim Gimenez confirmed on Tuesday that he had met recently with Department of Homeland Security Kristi Noem. 'We told her why we are having issues with what they are doing with Cubans, Venezuelans, Haitians living in Miami-Dade County. That's why you've seen some degree of difference in President Trump's tone,' said Gimenez. Many of the Latino communities in South Florida that helped flip Miami-Dade red, like Cubans and Venezuelans, have been hardest hit by Trump's immigration policies. Under the Trump administration, a countrywide operation to arrest people leaving immigration court has shocked some of Miami's conservative officials. The White House has also moved to end deportation protections and work permits for hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans under Temporary Protected Status, rolled back an 18-month extension for Haiti's TPS, and enacted stringent travel restrictions towards Cuba, Haiti and Venezuela. It has also stripped protections from over half-a-million Nicaraguans, Venezuelans, and Haitians who legally came to the U.S. through the Biden-era parole program. 'Let's deport criminals, gang members, and people with deportation orders. This is a country of law. But there are also many people who entered because they were almost invited by President Biden... I won't say they have a right — but they have good arguments to stay here in the United States. Because if not they have to return to countries that will oppress them like Cuba, Venezuela, Nicaragua, and Haiti,' said Gimenez. Amid the City of Miami formalizing a partnership with ICE that will allow its cops to wield limited immigration enforcement powers, Gimenez said that he thought police departments should support ICE when the federal agency needs back up but that it's not their role to enforce immigration laws. Both the Florida and federal governments have pushed for these partnerships. 'I don't think that's their job. That's ICE's job,' said Gimenez.
Miami Herald
2 days ago
- Politics
- Miami Herald
Elian González breaks silence 25 years later: ‘I'm going through difficult times'
Elian González had some surprising things to say on state television as the Cuban government commemorates the 25th anniversary of his return to the island from Miami. The story of Elian González made international headlines in the early 2000s, heightening tensions between the Cuban exile community and the regime in Havana. González praised the pivotal role of the late revolutionary leader Fidel Castro, who ordered mass rallies across the island. What did Elian González say? González said he has no regrets about remaining in Cuba, although he hinted that, like other Cubans, he may be enduring hardship due to the severe economic crisis gripping the country. 'What has never crossed my mind is regretting being in Cuba and growing up with my family. I may be going through difficult times, whatever the problem may be, but Fidel taught me to fight, to push forward,' he said Thursday on state television during an event at the Fidel Castro Ruz Center in Havana. González also expressed his 'gratitude' to the late revolutionary leader 'for giving me a place in the hearts of Cubans.' He added, 'What can never be in doubt is my commitment to the people of Cuba.' According to Cuban state news, González criticized the Cuban Adjustment Act, claiming it was the reason his mother left the island on a perilous sea journey. A victory for Castro's regime? The Cuban government celebrates June 28 each year as the anniversary of Elian González's return, describing him as a child 'kidnapped in Miami by distant relatives in collusion with the Cuban-American mafia.' When he was 6, González was rescued off the coast of the United States after his mother died during a shipwreck of the boat they had taken to flee Cuba. The child survived by clinging to an inner tube. His case drew global attention as a bitter legal and political battle unfolded. In the end, U.S. federal agents raided the Miami home of González's relatives and forcibly removed him under orders from the Department of Justice to return him to his father in Cuba — a move that the Cuban government has since celebrated as a symbolic victory. The Associated Press photo capturing the moment agents found the boy in a closet in his relatives' home became world famous and earned a Pulitzer Prize. The photographer, Alan Diaz, died in 2018. Since his return to Cuba, González's life has been periodically covered by the state-run media, often to highlight Fidel Castro's legacy. In 2023, the 'raft boy' was elected to Cuba's National Assembly as a representative for Cárdenas, the municipality in Matanzas province where he lives. Around that time, González told CNN he hoped to help improve relations between Havana and Washington. 'I think I could be a visible face for the American people and help the people of Cuba and the people of the United States become closer,' he said. 'And not just the people, but that our governments reach an understanding, and remove all the barriers that exist between us.'
Refinery29
5 days ago
- Sport
- Refinery29
Latina Athletes Are Good for Business — Until It's Time to Invest in Them
I grew up in a big sports family. As Puerto Ricans in a small Florida town in the 1990s, it helped us survive the South. My brothers and I weren't just fans; we were athletes. Even as the youngest and the only girl, I was in the middle of all the family basketball, soccer, and baseball games — and I was often the best player. But despite my skill, I always received the same messages: I was wasting my time, sports wasn't feminine, and this interest was just a phase I'd outgrow before settling into someone else's expectations. Those comments were infuriating. I saw the surge of excitement around the 1995 UConn Huskies, led by Cuban-American Hall of Famer Rebecca Lobo, and the 1997 WNBA's launch. But eventually, I also saw how the league suffered a sharp decline in investment and fan interest. With limited domestic opportunities and low pay, many players were forced to continue their careers overseas, splitting their time and their energy across continents. It felt like confirmation of one of my worst fears: that my family was right — this was a total waste of my time. So when I was recruited to play Division III basketball, I walked away — not because I didn't love the game but because all the times I was told that women don't belong in sports made it impossible for me to envision a future as an athlete. ' "All the times I was told that women don't belong in sports made it impossible for me to envision a future as an athlete." Nic Rodríguez Villafañe ' As my gender journey has shifted — now living as a trans man — my love for women's sports hasn't wavered. And nearly two decades later, it feels like the tide is turning. Women's sports are shaping the national sports conversation. The 2024 NCAA Women's Championship drew more than 18 million viewers — surpassing the men's final. And this time, a diverse new generation is leading: Colombian-Puerto Rican Indiana Fever rookie Celeste Taylor, one of just six Latinas on WNBA rosters, is defending with quiet force and big ambitions. Notre Dame's breakout guard, Puerto Rican Hannah Hidalgo, is tenaciously owning the ACC and has even stirred comparisons to the WNBA's all-time leading scorer, Argentine Diana Taurasi. Meanwhile, Kamilla Cardoso, a Brazilian powerhouse with the Chicago Sky, is asserting herself in the paint after two national titles at South Carolina. This isn't a fluke — it's a shift. And while major sports media want to continue to focus debates on Caitlin Clark and Angel Reese and their fandom rival, behind that spotlight, Latina athletes are reshaping the future. They've been here. They're raising the game. And they're unapologetically claiming their space. That's why the waiver of Esmery Martínez by the New York Liberty felt especially disheartening. Just as it seemed that women of color were finally receiving meaningful investment, this decision underscored the systemic precarity that still defines the WNBA for so many. Martínez, a Dominican-American forward with international experience, was cut by the Liberty for the second year in a row, despite strong performances during training camp and an ever-growing fanbase in New York. She wasn't the only one. Kaitlyn Chen, the first Taiwanese-American player ever drafted into the league, was selected 30th overall by the Golden State Valkyries and quickly became a fan favorite — her jersey even ranked among the team's top sellers — but she was still waived before the season started. The decision sparked criticism that the team had leveraged Chen's marketability without offering a genuine chance to earn a roster spot. Now, in a turn of events, the Valkyries have re-signed Chen, just weeks after her initial release. Still, these waivers reveal a hard truth: Visibility doesn't equal stability, especially when institutions profit from representation without committing to equity. These aren't isolated incidents. They're part of a larger pattern where women of color are celebrated as symbols but denied the sustained investment needed to succeed. It speaks to a deeper structural failure in professional women's sports: the ongoing neglect of long-term development and support for women athletes of color. Such is the criticism surrounding the Chicago Sky's management. At the center of the Sky fallout is the underdevelopment of young stars like Cardoso, whose story began in Montes Claros, Brazil, and who represents a new generation of international Latina athletes navigating a U.S. sports system that often overlooks their unique needs and cultural identities. Cardoso's potential is undeniable. Standing 6'7", she dominated at the collegiate level, winning an NCAA championship with South Carolina in 2024. Yet since joining the WNBA, she has seen limited playtime, raising questions about the Sky's developmental strategy. Cardoso often seems like an afterthought in the team's rotation — a glaring contradiction in a league that claims to be invested in growing the game. Her situation is a microcosm of a broader issue: Latina athletes, whether born in the U.S. or internationally, are frequently celebrated for their potential but rarely given the long-term support and resources needed to thrive at the professional level. Cardoso's journey is evidence that talent alone isn't enough. Without intentional investment from coaching staff, media, and league leadership, too many Latina athletes remain underdeveloped, under-promoted, and undervalued. But the lack of investment in Latina athletes isn't just a WNBA issue. It's a systemic failure across sports. Take boxing superstar Amanda Serrano. The Brooklyn-born Puerto Rican is arguably one of the greatest boxers alive. Serrano has held world titles in seven weight classes. And yet, despite her record, she spent years waiting for a headline fight within the male-dominated world of professional boxing. That opportunity finally came in 2022 — not through legacy sports networks, but through Jake Paul, a YouTuber-turned-boxer who promoted her under his brand Most Valuable Promotions. While the partnership undeniably boosted Serrano's visibility, it also came at a cost. Paul is among the wave of wealthy Americans exploiting Act 60, a tax loophole fueling the gentrification crisis in Puerto Rico. So while Serrano rises, the terms of her success remain entangled in the same colonial logic that displaces the very communities she represents. It raises a hard, necessary question: Why did one of the most-decorated athletes need a white male co-sign to be seen, paid, and valued? ' "Her situation is a microcosm of a broader issue: Latina athletes, whether born in the U.S. or internationally, are frequently celebrated for their potential but rarely given the long-term support and resources needed to thrive at the professional level." Nic Rodríguez Villafañe ' Sports media is another culprit. When the Orlando Pride won the 2024 NWSL Cup, led by Brazilian legend Marta Vieira da Silva, national sports media coverage was nearly nonexistent. I remember receiving a notification on my phone about the win. I rushed to turn on my TV, thinking I would see a special segment on the win, but I found virtually nothing on major sports network shows. Aside from a brief ESPN segment, most of the celebration lived in local Central Florida news outlets, despite Marta finally lifting a major domestic trophy. For a player of her stature — a six-time FIFA World Player of the Year — it was remarkable silence. Media visibility builds brands, secures endorsements, and cements legacies. When Latina athletes are sidelined, the message is clear: their excellence is still treated as exceptional, not foundational. And the cost is real. Young fans lose the chance to see themselves reflected — not as tokens but as centerpieces. Visibility can't be a seasonal gesture or a viral exception; it must be built into the structure. Because when representation isn't matched with resources, it becomes decoration, not transformation. In the '80s and '90s, U.S. sports culture wasn't concerned with representing the full mosaic of its players or fans. It was about rallying around a myth of national unity. To play and support the game was, in many ways, to assimilate. Ethnic identity was something that was left at the locker room door or seasonally celebrated. As a kid, I remember quietly wondering if Lobo or Taurasi were Latinas like me, based only on their last names. Their heritage wasn't an elevated focus of their story. That absence shaped a generation of us — athletes and fans alike — who learned to see ourselves only partially reflected, especially when it comes to the main stage of sports. Now, as women's sports enter what many are calling a golden age, we have a chance to do it differently. Thankfully, the next generation is taking control of their narratives — securing NIL deals, building visibility on TikTok and Instagram, and telling their stories on their own terms. Take Notre Dame standout Hidalgo, who is not only dominating the ACC but is also quietly building a brand — with deals from Red Bull, Topps, and Aloft South Bend — all while embracing her Puerto Rican roots and sharing that journey with her followers. There's also Lou Lopez Sénéchal, the first Mexican-born player in the WNBA, who said, 'This is an opportunity to open doors for other players and hopefully have an impact and inspire more young people from Mexico.' Meanwhile, Puerto Rican center Isalys Quiñones, who is newly entering the spotlight, uses her social channels to offer compelling glimpses into her pro journey and culture. ' "When Latina athletes are sidelined, the message is clear: their excellence is still treated as exceptional, not foundational. And the cost is real. Young fans lose the chance to see themselves reflected — not as tokens but as centerpieces. " Nic Rodríguez Villafañe ' These women are doing more than scoring; they're becoming cultural catalysts. Across courts and timelines, they're proving that Latina athletes are not just part of the game — they're changing it. Still, the burden shouldn't fall on rookies to carry the league's conscience. The media must invest. Teams must develop. Fans must show up. Equity is not a favor; it's the future. That's what platforms like Drafted understand. Founded by Karina Martinez and Jennifer Yepez-Blundell in 2023, the culture-driven media brand emerged from the absence of Latina representation and transformed that void into a movement. What began as a space to uplift fan stories has become a powerful ecosystem: editorial coverage, experiential events, and real-time amplification of Latina athletes, coaches, and sports professionals. It fills the gaps where mainstream media falls short, where Latine Heritage Month hype rarely translates into contract security, injury support, or career longevity. And now, with the recent announcement of an all-women's sports network co-founded by Whoopi Goldberg, the landscape is shifting further. That venture — backed by both cultural and financial capital — signals that the demand for women's sports isn't niche; it's necessary. Together, projects like Drafted and Goldberg's network are not just covering women's sports, they're rebuilding the architecture of who gets to be seen, celebrated, and sustained. ' "These women are doing more than scoring; they're becoming cultural catalysts. Across courts and timelines, they're proving that Latina athletes are not just part of the game — they're changing it." Nic Rodríguez Villafañe ' The stakes are real. Latina athletes, like all women athletes of color, face the compounded harm of shallow narratives, unstable rosters, and chronically underfunded futures. It's about pay and it's also about narrative justice, infrastructure, commitment, and a cultural recalibration. So imagine with me a world where investment in women's sports is rooted not in trend but in trust. Where fans treat women's games not as novelties but as a culture of celebration. A culture where visibility isn't seasonal and Latina athletes aren't firsts or exceptions but foundations. We don't need to wait for that world to arrive. We can build it now.
Miami Herald
5 days ago
- Politics
- Miami Herald
‘Nothing inhumane': Miami congressman tours detention center after Herald investigation
Rep. Carlos Gimenez became the first Republican federal lawmaker and the latest member of Florida's congressional delegation to visit South Florida facilities that house immigration detainees. On Tuesday, the representative toured the Federal Detention Center in downtown Miami — a Federal Bureau of Prisons facility housing immigrants under the custody of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement — after the Miami Herald published an investigation into reports of harsh conditions, lack of access to legal counsel and use of force. He announced his plans for the visit last week in a C-Span interview. READ MORE: Rep. Giménez to visit ICE detention centers in Miami after Herald uncovers harsh conditions Standing in front of FDC Miami with printed notes from the Herald article in hand, Gimenez said he had not seen any 'deplorable' conditions, but confirmed an incident in April in which detention officers deployed force against a group of immigrant detainees. 'There's nothing going on in there that would make me as an American not proud to be an American, and ashamed of what's going on there,' he said. Gimenez said 311 ICE detainees are housed in four units designed for a total of 500 people. On other floors, the facility separately houses about 1,000 other men who are either awaiting trial or have already been sentenced. According to ICE data showing average daily populations, about half of the men in ICE custody at the incarceration facility have criminal records and half don't. The Miami Herald spoke with three employees, seven detainees – one of whom was at the facility for about four months – and numerous lawyers with clients who have been housed at FDC Miami. They described delays in legal access, broken air conditioning, elevators and toilets, long lockdowns and a use of force incident in April. READ MORE: 'Some cry all day.' ICE detainees face harsh conditions in Miami federal facility 'I've seen some inmates just sit there and cry,' one officer told the Herald during the investigation. 'Some cry all day. Grown men, just crying.' Gimenez did not speak to any detainees during his tour. But he said he witnessed them playing games, watching television, and eating meals. 'They knew who I was, and nobody said 'oh wow, this is really bad,'' he said. He toured several units, and saw showers, a cafeteria, and an outdoor recreation area. Detainees have access to emails and phones, he said. 'This is not the Ritz-Carlton. It's a detention center. But there's nothing inhumane that's going on,' said the Cuban-American lawmaker. He told reporters that an FDC employee he spoke with described a broken elevator and 'disrepair.' 'Send us back' According to Gimenez, FDC Miami officials said about 40 detainees began refusing orders, knocking down sprinkler systems and trying to rip out toilets in the incident that happened in April. 'They had to use force to subdue them,' he said, of the facility's officers. He said no detainees were taken to the hospital. In response to the incident, he said, officials changed 'some of their procedures.' In interviews and multiple lawsuits, detainees said that officers deployed crowd-control grenades and what appeared to be rubber pellets in a crowded room on April 15. Detainees had flooded the cell to protest a lack of food, water and medication. Six detainees who were present during the incident said that they had been waiting to be processed for hours, after they were transferred that day from nearby Krome North Service Processing Center, and grew desperate. They were hungry and thirsty and some of them needed daily medications to be administered on time. In one lawsuit signed by 24 detainees related to the incident, a man wrote that they were yelling for hours for 'basic needs' of food, water and medicine, and flooded the cell and grew 'combative.' Diego Rafael Medina Rodriguez, 26, said that he got hit by 'rubber bullets coming from the explosion of concussion grenades,' suffered pain in his wrists from being tightly handcuffed for hours, and was unable to sleep as the incident worsened previous PTSD from his experience during protests in Venezuela. 'It felt like we were being tortured,' Medina Rodriguez wrote. 'All we did was flood the floor to call for attention because they were not paying attention to our basic needs.' Medina Rodriguez wrote that before the use of force was deployed, an officer asked the detainees for their 'demands.' 'Send us back,' he recalled another detainee responding. 'There's no reason why we got transferred to a Federal Prison to be treated as prisoners when we are ICE detainees. We should be at an Immigration Facility.' The lawsuits were dismissed due to procedural issues after the detainees filed them independently. Krome is next In February, ICE signed a contract with the Federal Bureau of Prisons to house immigrants in civil detention in federal prisons and jails, accommodating for the ramp up of immigration enforcement under the Trump administration. But advocates and lawyers said that the United States prison system - which is understaffed and riddled with reports of poor conditions and abuse - is not a suitable place for detainees in immigration proceedings In recent months, Reps. Debbie Wasserman Schultz, Frederica Wilson, and Sheila Cherfilus-McCormick have visited Krome North Service Processing Center and the Broward Transitional Center, other South Florida facilities holding ICE detainees. The Democratic lawmakers have been vocal critics of conditions at the center in the wake of overcrowding and detainee deaths in South Florida. In January and February, two men died after they had been detained at Krome. While the autopsies were ruled natural deaths, the Herald found reports of questionable medical treatment. In April, a Haitian woman died at BTC. Gimenez said he next plans to tour Krome Detention Center, an ICE facility that falls within his district. Detainees there have told the Herald that the facility became severely overcrowded over the past four months, with men sleeping on the floor. 'I have to visit Krome to see what's going on with my eyes,' said Gimenez.
