El Teteo Is Creating Unity Amongst Latines While Celebrating Our Culture

I have a deep yearning for uniting people. I believe that one of my purposes in this life is to bring people together in a way that transcends status, class, and occupation, creating a space where everyone feels truly united and understood. That's why in 2022, I decided to launch my first El Teteo party in Los Angeles, driven by a longing for something that reminded me of my home in NYC. I was feeling homesick and needed to feel connected to my roots and my community. El Teteo serves as an extension of what I was taught: to find moments of joy through pain, troubles, and hard work. For me, community is about gathering with the people you love and care for, no matter where you are - whether that's getting together with beach chairs in front of a building or plastic chairs at a park under a bridge. Teteo, which is a Dominican slang word for partying and gathering anywhere, suggests that when it comes to community, all you need is good music, good company, and some beers - and, in some cases, food. It's all about sharing moments that aren't guaranteed tomorrow, and it's something that's very much embedded in Latine culture. As a New Yorker, I found myself missing my city and its vibrant club scenes and dance parties. At almost every party and club I'd been to in Los Angeles, people stood around with a drink in hand instead of getting on the dance floor. Through El Teteo, I wanted to bring the East Coast vibe to the West Coast, raise awareness about Latine Caribbean culture, and foster community. As New Yorkers, we experience different cultures like a melting pot. Not only do I get to share other people's cultures, but I also introduce others to mine. As an unapologetically proud Dominican American, I yearned for our presence to be felt here in Los Angeles, where it felt like there weren't many of us. Moving to LA made me acutely aware of the lack of representation of Dominicans and Caribbean Latines. It was a culture shock. People were often shocked when I spoke in Spanish. Not many folks in Los Angeles were familiar with the Dominican community or Dominican culture overall. So I kicked off my first El Teteo party on February 26, 2022, to celebrate Dominican Independence Day in Los Angeles. I partnered with Angela Carrasco, a Dominican American realtor in Los Angeles, and Dominican American actress and host Katherine Castro, who both had ties to a venue. Our event reached new heights of success as 600 people gathered to participate. People even traveled from New York to be part of the unforgettable experience. These parties have been more than just a big fun event; they've become a place for Latine creatives, particularly those in media and entertainment, to network and build community. The success of the parties is measured by the joy and connection they bring. It's a space where Latindad looks different from what the West Coast is used to. As a Dominican American, I've faced challenges in auditions because Hollywood often expects Latinas to be light-skinned mestizas with straight dark hair, overlooking the diversity within our community. Afro-Latina Caribbeans are still considered "other" or "not Latina enough" in Hollywood. But these events feature Dominican music, artists, and cultural elements like hookah, creating a cultural hub in LA that showcases our rich heritage and fosters representation in a city that often overlooks us. At the first Teteo, we had Latines in entertainment from TV shows like "Insecure," "On My Block," "Gentefied," "Station 19 "and "How I Met Your Father" attend. It was a dream come true because people who look like us don't move to Hollywood often, and for Latines, being engaged in community plays a big part when it comes to our mental health. I often hear stories of Caribbean actors, directors, producers, and screenwriters who leave Los Angeles because they can't find community. I wanted to bridge that gap within the Latine diaspora, from Mexicans to Dominicans. My goal was to foster the representation lacking in Hollywood, making our voices heard in the actual city of Hollywood. The pain of Hollywood has been constantly trying to fit into a mold that asks you to erase parts of yourself, only to be rejected. Despite this pain and uncertainty, one thing they can't take away from me is joy. That's why Teteo was born, out of a desire to challenge the narrative that we don't exist and to celebrate every facet of who we are, including our humanity and the gift of life. Dominican culture is often celebrated without proper recognition, from viral dembow songs to James Bond being inspired by Porfirio Rubirosa, to bachata being sung in different languages across the globe. Yet, despite these cultural contributions, we are often overlooked in the larger Latine conversation. Executives often don't invest in us because they don't believe we exist. However, seeing diverse crowds at Juan Luis Guerra and Romeo Santos concerts made me question why we aren't part of the broader conversatio

El Teteo Is Creating Unity Amongst Latines While Celebrating Our Culture
I have a deep yearning for uniting people. I believe that one of my purposes in this life is to bring people together in a way that transcends status, class, and occupation, creating a space where everyone feels truly united and understood. That's why in 2022, I decided to launch my first El Teteo party in Los Angeles, driven by a longing for something that reminded me of my home in NYC. I was feeling homesick and needed to feel connected to my roots and my community. El Teteo serves as an extension of what I was taught: to find moments of joy through pain, troubles, and hard work. For me, community is about gathering with the people you love and care for, no matter where you are - whether that's getting together with beach chairs in front of a building or plastic chairs at a park under a bridge. Teteo, which is a Dominican slang word for partying and gathering anywhere, suggests that when it comes to community, all you need is good music, good company, and some beers - and, in some cases, food. It's all about sharing moments that aren't guaranteed tomorrow, and it's something that's very much embedded in Latine culture. As a New Yorker, I found myself missing my city and its vibrant club scenes and dance parties. At almost every party and club I'd been to in Los Angeles, people stood around with a drink in hand instead of getting on the dance floor. Through El Teteo, I wanted to bring the East Coast vibe to the West Coast, raise awareness about Latine Caribbean culture, and foster community. As New Yorkers, we experience different cultures like a melting pot. Not only do I get to share other people's cultures, but I also introduce others to mine. As an unapologetically proud Dominican American, I yearned for our presence to be felt here in Los Angeles, where it felt like there weren't many of us. Moving to LA made me acutely aware of the lack of representation of Dominicans and Caribbean Latines. It was a culture shock. People were often shocked when I spoke in Spanish. Not many folks in Los Angeles were familiar with the Dominican community or Dominican culture overall. So I kicked off my first El Teteo party on February 26, 2022, to celebrate Dominican Independence Day in Los Angeles. I partnered with Angela Carrasco, a Dominican American realtor in Los Angeles, and Dominican American actress and host Katherine Castro, who both had ties to a venue. Our event reached new heights of success as 600 people gathered to participate. People even traveled from New York to be part of the unforgettable experience. These parties have been more than just a big fun event; they've become a place for Latine creatives, particularly those in media and entertainment, to network and build community. The success of the parties is measured by the joy and connection they bring. It's a space where Latindad looks different from what the West Coast is used to. As a Dominican American, I've faced challenges in auditions because Hollywood often expects Latinas to be light-skinned mestizas with straight dark hair, overlooking the diversity within our community. Afro-Latina Caribbeans are still considered "other" or "not Latina enough" in Hollywood. But these events feature Dominican music, artists, and cultural elements like hookah, creating a cultural hub in LA that showcases our rich heritage and fosters representation in a city that often overlooks us. At the first Teteo, we had Latines in entertainment from TV shows like "Insecure," "On My Block," "Gentefied," "Station 19 "and "How I Met Your Father" attend. It was a dream come true because people who look like us don't move to Hollywood often, and for Latines, being engaged in community plays a big part when it comes to our mental health. I often hear stories of Caribbean actors, directors, producers, and screenwriters who leave Los Angeles because they can't find community. I wanted to bridge that gap within the Latine diaspora, from Mexicans to Dominicans. My goal was to foster the representation lacking in Hollywood, making our voices heard in the actual city of Hollywood. The pain of Hollywood has been constantly trying to fit into a mold that asks you to erase parts of yourself, only to be rejected. Despite this pain and uncertainty, one thing they can't take away from me is joy. That's why Teteo was born, out of a desire to challenge the narrative that we don't exist and to celebrate every facet of who we are, including our humanity and the gift of life. Dominican culture is often celebrated without proper recognition, from viral dembow songs to James Bond being inspired by Porfirio Rubirosa, to bachata being sung in different languages across the globe. Yet, despite these cultural contributions, we are often overlooked in the larger Latine conversation. Executives often don't invest in us because they don't believe we exist. However, seeing diverse crowds at Juan Luis Guerra and Romeo Santos concerts made me question why we aren't part of the broader conversatio