scholarly journals A History of Anglicanism in the Caribbean and The Bahamas

2008 ◽  
Vol 5 ◽  
pp. 14
Author(s):  
Noel Titus
Keyword(s):  
2020 ◽  
Author(s):  
Danilo T Perez-Rivera ◽  
Alexis Josué Martínez ◽  
Adriana Pons ◽  
Alejandro Rodríguez-Natal ◽  
Sergio Andrés Davila-Santana

Climate change has led to rising sea levels and warmer sea surface temperatures. These factors contribute greatly to the intensity of hurricanes and floods they provoke. Projections estimate there will be an increase of 45% to 87% in the frequency of Category >4 hurricanes originating in the Atlantic Basin, which typically impact the Caribbean and Continental United States of America. During the 2019 Hurricane Season, there were 20 depressions, 18 storms, 6 hurricanes and 3 major hurricanes. Through this work, we explored the response on Social Media to these natural phenomena as a function of their trajectory, intensity, and previous exposure of the population to intense natural disasters. Data was collected through the Twitter API. The influences of hurricane proximity and intensity on volume of Social Media production was explored. Hurricane Dorian, with its trajectory strongly threatening the previously exposed Puerto Rico, and eventually causing widespread damage in the Abaco Islands of the Bahamas, presented the strongest case for the evaluation of the dichotomy of responses between populations with differences in previous history of exposure. The landscape of historic hurricane exposure Caribbean has radically changed in recent years. Taking advantage of Big Data to help elucidate these dynamics could be instrumental in the tailoring of emergency preparedness plans and the effective design of mental health first aid strategies.


2020 ◽  
Author(s):  
Daniel M. Fernandes ◽  
Kendra A. Sirak ◽  
Harald Ringbauer ◽  
Jakob Sedig ◽  
Nadin Rohland ◽  
...  

Humans settled the Caribbean ~6,000 years ago, with intensified agriculture and ceramic use marking a shift from the Archaic Age to the Ceramic Age ~2,500 years ago. To shed new light on the history of Caribbean people, we report genome-wide data from 184 individuals predating European contact from The Bahamas, Cuba, Hispaniola, Puerto Rico, Curaçao, and northwestern Venezuela. A largely homogeneous ceramic-using population most likely originating in northeastern South America and related to present-day Arawak-speaking groups moved throughout the Caribbean at least 1,800 years ago, spreading ancestry that is still detected in parts of the region today. These people eventually almost entirely replaced Archaic-related lineages in Hispaniola but not in northwestern Cuba, where unadmixed Archaic-related ancestry persisted into the last millennium. We document high mobility and inter-island connectivity throughout the Ceramic Age as reflected in relatives buried ~75 kilometers apart in Hispaniola and low genetic differentiation across many Caribbean islands, albeit with subtle population structure distinguishing the Bahamian islands we studied from the rest of the Caribbean and from each other, and long-term population continuity in southeastern coastal Hispaniola differentiating this region from the rest of the island. Ceramic-associated people avoided close kin unions despite limited mate pools reflecting low effective population sizes (2Ne=1000-2000) even at sites on the large Caribbean islands. While census population sizes can be an order of magnitude larger than effective population sizes, pan-Caribbean population size estimates of hundreds of thousands are likely too large. Transitions in pottery styles show no evidence of being driven by waves of migration of new people from mainland South America; instead, they more likely reflect the spread of ideas and people within an interconnected Caribbean world.


Author(s):  
Julio Capó

Poised on the edge of the United States and at the center of a wider Caribbean world, today’s Miami is marketed as an international tourist hub that embraces gender and sexual difference. As Julio Capó Jr. shows in this fascinating history, Miami’s transnational connections reveal that the city has been a queer borderland for over a century. In chronicling Miami’s queer past from its 1896 founding through 1940, Capó shows the multifaceted ways gender and sexual renegades made the city their own. Drawing from a multilingual archive, Capó unearths the forgotten history of "fairyland," a marketing term crafted by boosters that held multiple meanings for different groups of people. In viewing Miami as a contested colonial space, he turns our attention to migrants and immigrants, tourism, and trade to and from the Caribbean—particularly the Bahamas, Cuba, and Haiti—to expand the geographic and methodological parameters of urban and queer history. Recovering the world of Miami’s old saloons, brothels, immigration checkpoints, borders, nightclubs, bars, and cruising sites, Capó makes clear how critical gender and sexual transgression is to understanding the city and the broader region in all its fullness.


2019 ◽  
Vol 11 (3) ◽  
pp. 31-35
Author(s):  
Charlotte Henay ◽  
Yasmin Glinton

A Botanical of Grief writes connection to our Ancestors, delving into and relating their reinvented and white-coded experiences and spaces that they occupied. Through a poetic triptych, as protocol for talking to the dead, we reach to the need for irreducible narratives, to be accessed by descendants in defining themselves. We represent what we hear in the spaces between, silences that speak volumes and call for us to take heed. We ask, what is grief in the afterlife of enslavement? We explore deep grief and fear as fruit and seed, realms in which The Bahamas, The Caribbean countries, and their Diasporas remain moored. Our writing makes explicit the tensions inherent in deep grief, denied public mourning, and fear of connection, reverberating throughout diaspora, unresting in the blood and bones of those that went before us. We are represented only in select details of the history of this land. The weighted sorrow of the forgotten seeks to make new worlds. This exploration navigates a perspective outside the colonial presence of idyllic beauty and exoticism.


2020 ◽  
Vol 2 ◽  
pp. 19-25
Author(s):  
Mark C Anderson

Horror films such as White Zombie (1932) reveal viewers to themselves by narrating in the currency of audience anxiety. Such movies evoke fright because they recapitulate fear and trauma that audiences have already internalized or continue to experience, even if they are not aware of it. White Zombie’s particular tack conjures up an updated captivity narrative wherein a virginal white damsel is abducted by a savage Other. The shell of the captivity story, of course, is as old as America. In its earliest incarnation it featured American Indians in the role as savage Other, fiendishly imagined as having been desperate to get their clutches on white females and all that hey symbolized. In this way, it generated much of the emotional heat stoking Manifest Destiny, that is, American imperial conquest both of the continent and then, later, as in the case of Haiti, of the Caribbean Basin. White Zombie must of course be understood in the context of the American invasion and occupation of Haiti (1915-1934). As it revisits the terrain inhabited by the American black Other, it also speaks to the history of American slavery. The Other here is African-American, not surprisingly given the date and nature of American society of the day, typically imagined in wildly pejorative fashion in early American arts and culture. This essay explores White Zombie as a modified captivity narrative, pace Last of the Mohicans through John Ford’s The Searchers (1956), the Rambo trilogy (1982, 1985, 1988), the Taken trilogy (2008, 1012, 2014), even Mario and Luigi’s efforts to rescue Princess Peach from Bowser.


2021 ◽  
Vol 108 (2) ◽  
pp. 200-215 ◽  
Author(s):  
Lucas C. Majure ◽  
Duniel Barrios ◽  
Edgardo Díaz ◽  
Bethany A. Zumwalde ◽  
Weston Testo ◽  
...  

2016 ◽  
Vol 15 (4) ◽  
pp. 418-445 ◽  
Author(s):  
Jamie L. Pietruska

This article examines the mutually reinforcing imperatives of government science, capitalism, and American empire through a history of the U.S. Weather Bureau's West Indian weather service at the turn of the twentieth century. The original impetus for expanding American meteorological infrastructure into the Caribbean in 1898 was to protect naval vessels from hurricanes, but what began as a measure of military security became, within a year, an instrument of economic expansion that extracted climatological data and produced agricultural reports for American investors. This article argues that the West Indian weather service was a project of imperial meteorology that sought to impose a rational scientific and bureaucratic order on a region that American officials considered racially and culturally inferior, yet relied on the labor of local observers and Cuban meteorological experts in order to do so. Weather reporting networks are examined as a material and symbolic extension of American technoscientific power into the Caribbean and as a knowledge infrastructure that linked the production of agricultural commodities in Cuba and Puerto Rico to the world of commodity exchange in the United States.


1972 ◽  
Vol 77 (4) ◽  
pp. 1185
Author(s):  
Robert E. McNicoll ◽  
Eric Williams
Keyword(s):  

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