Lucy Coutinho: Peaces of Freedom

Lucy Coutinho says she’s come a long way from her earlier days in Boston. With a radio show and a YouTube channel, we can now add author to the mix.
Lucy Coutinho/author
“I am an author now.”
Her book Peaces of Freedom is Lucy’s own personal journey through life.
Lucy Coutinho/author
“Wanting and seeking out inspiration, wanting to live in a more peaceful world. And I also shared a lot of, you know, encounters that I have had, a lot of messages that I have received over the years in seeking that. When I would share it via my Facebook page, I got a lot of good feedback so I continued to do that. Then one day I said why don’t I turn this into a movement?”
That movement inspired Luce Inspiration. Introducing America to people of Cape Verdean descent on television, on radio and through the Internet.
Lucy Coutinho/author
“(From the book) they’re getting a lot; they’re getting my personal account of the whole year that I was trying to find my own inner peace. And I also sought out 12 women whom I knew personally and I interviewed them, so their stories and accounts are also in the book. And also in the book you’ll get lines, a journal for you. If you open up the book, each chapter after you’re done reading the chapter, you’re also able to write your own personal accounts or you can write notes or whatever your heart desires. It’s really a book for you.”
You can find Peaces of Freedom on Amazon.

Read More

High Expectations for Cabo Verde at 2016 Rio Paralympics

Cabo Verde will be sending two athletes to compete in the 2016 Rio Paralympics starting September 7th through the 18th.  The Minister of Sports of Cabo Verde, Fernando Elisio Freire, expressed high expectations that the two athletes have a strong bid to win medals for the first time ever at the Paralympics for Cabo Verde.
 

Marcio Fernandes – “Cape Verde Wins its First Gold Medal in the 2015 IPC Athletics World Championships Doha.”

Marcio Fernandes will participate in the Javelin throw. He previously won gold in the men’s javelin F44 final at the IPC Athletics World Championships at Suhaim Bin Hamad Stadium on October 30, 2015 in Doha, Qatar.
“Expectations are high after the world championship last year and it is normal that people want to repeat all the success. I will do my best to compete at full strength and fight to be on the podium, but everything will depend on the conditions and other opponents. I’m going to give my 200% and see the results,” said Fernandes, who’s ranked number one in the world.
Marcio was born in Portugal to Cape Verdean parents. He lost his leg in a car accident at age 10.

Gracelino Barbosa will be competing in the 400 m hurdles (category T20 — intellectual handicapped).  He placed sixth in the final of Sports World Championship, but it was enough to qualify for the bigger prize of participating in the Paralympic Games of the Rio 2016.  He is currently ranked 7th in the world.

In addition to the two athletes, Cabo Verde well send two coaches to Rio de Janeiro, both Portuguese (Carlos Fernandes and Seraphim Gadelho), a physical therapist, and the Chief and Deputy Chief of mission and the Paralympic delegation Chief, Rodrigo Bejarano, who is also President of the Cape Verdean Portuguese Paralympic Committee (COPAC).
Cabo Verde fielded five athletes this year at the 2016 Rio Olympics: Jordin Andrade (Track and Field), Maria Andrade (Taekwondo), Elyane Boal (Gymnastics – Rhythmic), Davilson Dos Santos Morais (Boxing), and Lidiane Lopes Gomes (Track and Field).

Read More

Other American Dreams Report: Black Olives Matter

There is no doubt about it, all olives matter. It is simply an intrinsic fact. If a difference exists between green and black olives beyond the obvious, then I have to discern it. But imagine for a moment a surreal world, something perhaps out of the mind of Salvador Dali or Hunter S. Thompson. Where those olives, black and green alike, came with ambitions, fears, emotions and a conscious. Yes, it sounds ridiculous to ponder but its 2016 and where ever you look, from the Brexit debacle to the quagmire of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign, its clear that ‘ridiculous’ has become the new normal.
And in this society of olives, one might imagine there being an olive police force. Why not, right? A society has to be built on laws, even ones as ridiculous as this analogy but we’ll get to that later. What if Oliveland also had a defined social construct? With crime;  a history of animosity; a history of cultural resentment; a history of division.  Out of this, a context of evidence might emerge similar to our own reality.  What if in Oliveland data showed higher rates of death for black olives,  during what for green olives remained, routine interactions with the peacekeepers of Oliveland?
Naturally, it would shock Olivelanders who hold the belief of a just and verdant society. Just as naturally, other Olivelanders may take offense at the insinuation that black olives are being unfairly targeted and all that would imply about their society. Opposition might point out that black olives do a wonderful job of killing themselves without the help of Oliveland peacekeepers. Others may then postulate that the data is inherently flawed anyway because there are more green olives in Oliveland to begin with. The result would be social frustration.
But what if in some parts of the black olive community crime had actually become inescapable? For black olives this would mean both rationales painfully carry some truth. What would also be true, maybe just as painfully, is that both rationales also attempt to misappropriate blame away from unconscious biases prevalent through Oliveland society. Biases that may have contributed to the context of evidence in larger part than some would like to admit. Uncomfortable ones that remain ignored no matter how loud black olives protest for society to wake up and acknowledge the problem. Some green olives may and may then lead change. Others may give in to xenophobic instincts and staunchly refuse to see a problem. Through this a paradigm may become clear to many olives, green and black, that it is impossible to wake some one up if they’re pretending to be asleep.
At that stage, born of that context, it isn’t difficult to imagine that a slogan might emerge along the lines of #BlackOlivesMatter. A last refuge of pent up social angst condensed into three short words. To some it is cry for help, to others it is a call to arms.   For many the slogan would contain no implication that other olives don’t. Yet for some, an invisible ‘only’ would attach itself to the front of the slogan each time it is uttered. Held in place by the same unconscious biases at the root of this issue. It has been said that to the privileged, equality often feels like oppression, that such is the nature of perception.  For those who would see nothing wrong in Oliveland a counter measure to the call might also present itself,  #No!AllOlivesMatter.
Which is fine because its true, they do all matter and here in lies the false equivalence of playing one slogan off the other. One is an intrinsic statement of a commonly held belief, the other is specific to an ever increasing lexicon of events. An example: in our reality, cars have tires and they sometimes go flat, a hassle but we deal with it. We may then walk into a tire shop and ask that the flat tire be replaced. If the mechanic were to reply with, ”Why just fix that one? Why not replace them all? You’ll have to anyway” they would not be wrong but they wouldn’t necessarily be helpful either.  Similarly, if you were in Oliveland and overheard someone reply to #BlackOlivesMatter with #AllOlivesMatter, you might just think they had something against black olives.

Read More

My First Taste of Cape Verde

I had heard about Cachupa, the national dish of Cape Verde. The first time I saw it was a news piece about the Onset Cape Verde Festival. They showed food that had been Americanized and some…”not so much.” The camera focusing in on a big pot of what looked like mush. If that is what Americans might find foreign, then that is what I wanted to try. So it was what I had my eye out for. I passed many a barbecue, chicken finger and steak and cheese type place to come to a sign that read “Cape Verde Foods”.
Side note. In middle school some of the Cape Verdean boys would poke fun at me, “Yo do you think Chinese girls are that pretty? Some of them maybe, but what that ….” Anyway the point seemed to be that Cape Verdean girls were statistically more beautiful. I will also mention that I went to middle school in inner city Boston and there are cultural preferences to beauty that would enable me use some street equivalent of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
However, now faced with a group of Cape Verdean female food servers, versus years of Chinatown experience of female food servers…. I will have to begrudgingly admit Cape Verde’s superiority and the accuracy of my classmates taunts. That being said, I was the only one in line and nobody was taking my order.
“How can I help you?”
“Uhh Can I get a Cachupa” spelled Kachupa on the sign, but I’ll go with Google’s spelling, “and ummmmm….” I looked for something that was spelled weird, and came across something that looked a lot like it said Kung Fu. “One… errr Gufong?”
“How many?” asked the young woman.
“Uhh… one?”
“Is that all?”
“What’s this?” I said pointing to something that looked like either an empanada or a Jamaican Beef Patty.”
“That’s a Jamaican Beef Patty.”
Shoot, I had those all the time in Middle school at Ruggles station all the time. I could have that anywhere. How is that even Cape Verdean?
“No thanks… what exactly is a Gufong anyway?”
“That.” said the girl pointing to what looked like a corn dog. I looked askance at it, because it looked like something very generic. Perhaps to her though, it looked like I was unsure of it’s contents. I would just like to say for the record, that I as a person of Chinese descent. I have eaten bull penis. I wouldn’t ORDER bull penis per se. I am just pointing out that I have eaten a lot of things most people won’t eat. I have also eaten dog. I usually lose friends really fast when I tell people that..
“It’s just like a fried corn sweet.” assured the girl.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah okay just one of those and a Cachupa.”
I walked around, feeling special with the sweet fried corn donut thing in one hand for my starch and the cachupa in my other hand. I thought of sitting down and really savoring what I was eating. But it didn’t seem to be all that. Not like Fau Yuk Wonton mein, or some serious noodle dishes. It was good. But it wasn’t fantastic. It was basically bean soup and a donut. A filling meal. A hearty meal. A soup with meat, corn, and all sorts of goodness stewed together. But I wasn’t wowed.
How would I go about writing about this dish? Maybe my article would really enrage some people if this was THE national dish. They say Sancocho is like the Dominican Flag. Was Cachupa the equivalent in Cape Verde? I better be careful. Maybe I wouldn’t write the article after all.
But then I thought how a lot of “national dishes were this stew like thing. I mentioned Sancocho, but my Irish side also had recipes passed down generation to generation for Irish stew. I remember glancing at on my great grandmother hand wrote. What stood out was, “No Carrots! If there are Carrots it’s NOT Irish Stew.” The Chinese also had Jook. A rice porridge, which had various variations. New England had Clam Chowder. Chili Beans and rice was a comfort food to from my childhood. And southerners had grits. All of these were dishes that weren’t delicacies per se, but tied to memories of home, and a sense of identity. This Cachupa was pretty good, but just because I didn’t think it was amazing, didn’t mean that it wasn’t important.
I returned to my friends and later in the day I was asked, “So how did you like your Cachupa?”
I slowly shrugged my shoulders, “I mean it was… good.”
“Nah… hold off on that article you have to taste some REAL Cachupa first. Because I saw that stuff you was eating and it was all watery.”
I later heard this throughout the day. That Onset might be the biggest Festival.. But it was different from Brockton or Providence.
“Also all the island’s have a different recipe.” Another friend said defending the authenticity of what I had. “You really have to try it the home cooked way though.
And the more I learned about the dish, it really was more of a home cooked type meal and so I got the sense that, to insult Cachupa… may perhaps be like insulting someone’s mother.
My friend schooled me that indeed there were different recipes and that I had to have the dish that had more ingredients, not just cheap filler. Various vegetables, and meats, pork, chicken.., he licked his lips describing it and then said, “But… sometimes I don’t even like to eat my mother’s Cachupa that day. What I want to do is to wait for the next day. And that’s when you take it out of the fridge, through butter on the pan and THEN put on the Cachupa. You almost kind of fry it, except you don’t fry it because it’s so wet that it doesn’t fry. And if you have the kind with the pork then that kind of fries or maybe some of the edges get a little burnt but then that gets mixed into everything else.”
I thought of how crazy Chinese people sometimes went over the burnt parts of rice cooked in a clay pot.. Pouring tea over those bits and even calling that a meal. That “dish” has to be specially requested because usually nowadays Chinese cook rice in an electrical rice cooker. Fried Rice, was also a dish that was made from the leftover rice from the day before… fried again. Basically these dishes were originally a poor person’s way of not wasting food. But in the modern era, where food was plentiful, these dishes became grounded in a sense of tradition.
My friend continued… “You see you can talk about Cachupa, but then there is Cachupa Refogada. The one I just talked to you about, and I think a lot of people will like the one that is the day after. So you have to have all that first. Then you can talk about what you think about Cachupa.
So for the record.
This is the article ABOUT writing about Cachupa. It is not the ACTUAL article on Cachupa.

Read More

Experience is the Root of Introspection

I’ve been teaching adolescents for over a decade and throughout the years they’ve inquired about their strengths in various ways; they probe for answers with subtle gestures and attentiveness and direct questioning like “what do you think I’m good at… what should I be in the future?” As a teacher, I serve as a model of strength and my students look to me for guidance and reassurance, some believe I have this definitive map to their future when all I have are my own personal experiences and knowledge to condition and craft their vision.  This leads me to wonder about what it means to be strong, what does it mean to have a vision and follow it without settling your hopes & dreams by the bedside or upon the vision of others.
This question also leads me down memory lane.  As a child, I was very headstrong in my convictions, as I recall.  I believed in the possibility of “I can” without seeing the probable loses of “I can’t.” This was the nature of my mind for quite some time until I began attending school.  There, I was molded by different hands, ones that began to silence my voice, “children should be seen and not heard” were the echoes that framed the institution of education and my art was altered to the beauty they saw, “don’t color this way, it isn’t pretty, color like hers…”
I do believe that Charles Darwin’s theory of natural selection can be applied here.  Natural selection is defined as ” the process by which plants and animals that can adapt to change in their environment are able to survive and reproduce while those that cannot, adapt, do not survive.”  In this new world, I began to adapt and condition my thoughts and beliefs to fit within a new box.  I was adapting to survive within the cultural norms of my society, like many of you.   As a species, by design, we are born with strengths to self-believe, to ground our strengths in self-trust and to see it to fruition through self-love.  But when our beliefs do not mirror societal views and trends then conflict arises.  We have the ability to not only reproduce genetically but intelligible thoughts that are innovative and authentic, influencing generations to come.  But many of us forfeit our dreams by the bedside and abandon ship at the sight of defeat.  We all struggle with fear and doubt; they feed our inhibitions and serve as deterrents keeping us from reaching our goals. We fail to foresee that doubt and fear are illusions that we are taught to have and they will only sow roots in our mind if we believe in them.  In my life, I’ve chosen to become vulnerable to my experiences. I believe this is the only way for introspection to serve as a guide to reinforcing  my inner strengths.
I am proud to say that I am not perfect, perfection lives within the confines of constraint in standards set by other individuals.  But, I am free and unique just like every individual that occupies this planet.  Therefore, please do not follow the standards to achieve perfection for they are only there to create clones not encourage individuality.  Set the standards to achieve innovation because we are all unique and our existence has purpose.  My purpose lies in the elements of my rise from each and every fall.  What strengthens me is not anything outside of me.  Granted, the people in my life may have motivated and inspired me but let’s stop for a minute and ponder, how could a flower bloom without a seed? I am the the flower and my strength is the seed, and all that surrounds me are the elements to aid in my growth.  I was conditioned, just like most people are, to believe less in my inner strength and more in the dependency on the world to make me whole. But what would have happened if the world forgot me, like the flower that loses sunlight and water, I, too, would have died if I depended on others to strengthen me. During times of adversity, I had no place to look but inside of me and there I found my seed of strength, lying in dormancy,  awaiting my arrival.
There is a poem in my 2nd book, In the Strength to Find my Soul I Lost the Eyes of Scrutiny,” titled Purpose and it states this:
I see the light of tomorrow
upon the image of my creator
it lives in me…
it lives in you
Birthed with purpose & gifted with the breath of life
I was crippled by the whips of destructive tongues
stifled by the hands of humanity
misguided by the distractions & learned excuses
But upon my falls I knelt upon the pavement to feel life pull me to rise
“I will never succumb to the taste of failure,” I yelped
Resurrect and fulfill my potential
For I am the seed of Greatness
As you are!
 
What strengthens me is my faith in me and this is the lesson I share.

Read More

ASK DR. VERO


Email question's about women's health, pregnancy, sexuality, and social activism to VeroMD.net@gmail.com and your question may be confidentially-featured in this segment.

Dr. Veronica Maria Pimentel, MD, MS, FACOG

Search the Community Directory

DONATE TO ACVB


ACVB is a community men's basketball league, currently based in Boston & Brockton, that is in its infancy. The league/organization's mission is to integrate youth development activities through basketball clinics and other outreach programs provided by the league to the community.

[wp_paypal button="donate" name="Youth Development Program & League Activities"]