﻿Hello my friends,
I’m Andrew,
I’m a proud Puerto Rican,
and in honor of National Hispanic Heritage Month,
I want to highlight the hard-fought battles for increased Hispanic and Latinx representation in comics.
Two of the videos we’re most proud of are our deep dives on the rise of Black and LGBTQ+ superheroes.
And today,
we’re taking a look at another underrepresented group that is making huge strides after decades of silence and stereotypes from mainstream pop culture.
This is
The History of Hispanic and Latinx Superheroes
The precursor to all Hispanic heroes would have to be Don Diego de la Vega,
better known as Zorro.
Johnston McCulley’s Spanish vigilante debuted in 1919,
and set the template for all masked adventurers that followed in his wake.
I wouldn’t quite call him a superhero, but for a long time, he was the best we got.
Latinx and Hispanic superheroes wouldn’t appear in mainstream American comics until the ‘70s,
But fans in Mexico already had their own, with one key difference:
He was real.
I’m talking about
El Santo
You can trace the explosion of Mexican superheroes to June 28, 1942,
when a luchadore named Rodolfo Guzman Huerta stepped out to the ring wearing a simple silver mask.
“El Santo,” or “The Saint,” wasn’t the first wrestler to cover his face,
but he was the first to truly capture the fans imaginations.
He quickly became a national icon and a Mexican folk hero,
and soon, his adventures grew too big for the squared circle to contain.
With his secret identity, flowing cape and spandex tights,
Santo was already the spitting image of the golden-age superheroes that were taking America by storm.
His legendary rivalry with the Blue Demon was just as epic as Batman and the Joker,
and the simple storytelling of valiant tecnicos battling evil rudos translated perfectly to the four-color world of heroes and villains.
Essentially the guy was a living, breathing superhero.
The first El Santo comic books appeared in 1952,
and became so popular that soon they were releasing three new issues every week,
imagine getting three new Superman comics every week.
The flesh and blood Santo made the transition to the big screen in 1958,
and he’d go on to star in 52 films total,
so basically, he’s been in more movies than Batman, Superman and Spider-Man combined.
That's not funny.
And if you wanna talk about a rogues gallery,
it’s tough to top Santo.
He’s fought zombies, blobs, vampires, the Universal monsters, the Four Horsemen,
and countless other foes,
but unless you lived in Mexico or the Southwestern United States,
or you were an MST3K fan,
you’d have no idea how massive Santo and other luchadores who followed in his cinematic footsteps really were.
Only a few of his movies were ever translated and released commercially in America,
so U.S. audiences wouldn’t experience Latinx superheroes until
The Bronze Age
In the ‘50s and ‘60s,
Latinx characters were either portrayed as stereotypical villains,
or spinoffs of established heroes like the South American Bat-Hombre and Gaucho.
Meanwhile, Black superheroes were finally starting to break through after the debut of Black Panther in 1966,
but it would take nearly ten more years for a Hispanic hero to hit the scene.
In 1975, Marvel became the first major publisher to roll out a Hispanic superhero,
when they introduced the White Tiger.
Judging from the name,
the company was clearly trying to capitalize on Black Panther’s success,
White Tiger... Black Panther... One fish, two fish, what do you need?
but the characters couldn’t be more different.
Hector Ayala wasn’t a king,
he was a Puerto Rican immigrant attending college in New York,
when he stumbled across three mystical amulets from Koo-- ah hah!
When he stumbled across three mystical amulets from Kun Lun,
that endowed him with increased strength, speed, and skill in the martial arts,
Also unlike Black Panther,
White Tiger was actually co-created by an artist who shared his heritage,
Puerto Rican legend George Perez.
White Tiger didn’t have the same impact as T’Challa,
but he still paved a path of opportunity for future Hispanic and Latinx heroes to shine,
and his sister Ava is carrying on the legacy to this day.
Two years later, Judge Margarito C. Garza created Relampago,
who has a legit claim on being the first Mexican-American superhero.
Garza was only able to self-publish three issues amidst concerns of copyright infringement,
but Relampago earned his place in history nonetheless.
DC was a little slower out the gate to introduce a Latinx hero of their own.
One of their first attempts was Fire,
a pyrokinetic Justice League member who hailed from Brazil,
but Vibe is probably their most infamous misstep.
Today, most people know Vibe from the CW 'Flash' show,
where’s he’s played with geeky charm by Colombian actor Carlos Valdes.
These weren't made by Kaboom Boomerang.
Kaboom Boomerang?
It's not your best.
Really? It makes perfect sense.
But when Vibe was introduced in the comics in 1984,
he was little more than a collection of dumb stereotypes wrapped up in an awful costume,
a choice I'm sure a boardroom full of white people made.
He was a gang leader on the mean streets of Detroit,
who gave up his life of crime when he heard the Justice League was opening up a branch in his hometown.
He didn’t give up his favorite hobby though,
which was, of course, breakdancing.
Not great, but at least he’s better than El Dorado,
a Mexican hero created for the ‘Superfriends’ cartoon.
DC would do a little better as the ‘80s wound down,
introducing characters like the second Wildcat, Yolanda Montez,
and Extrano, who was also one of the first LGBTQ+ superheroes.
Marvel was trickling out new Hispanic and Latinx heroes too,
the Avengers recruited Firebird and Living Lightning,
and in the multicultural ranks of the X-Men,
we met new heroes like Rictor and Sunspot.
Both companies were making progress, and the number of Hispanic and Latinx heroes was about to explode as we entered the
Modern Age
Let’s put the big two aside for a second,
Marvel and DC, you go over there!
because smaller companies were making huge strides in representation.
While Marvel and DC were still beating around the bush,
down in Texas, artist Richard Dominguez formed Azteca Productions,
and released his own lineup of comics centered around Hispanic heroes like Team Tejas,
El Gato Negro,
and a revival of Relampago.
Once Hispanic and Latinx heroes started to get some buzz,
the Big Two publishers slowly began to roll out more as the ‘90s got underway.
1992 was when we first met Renee Montoya,
the queer Dominican Gotham detective who’d eventually take up the mantle of the Question.
Kyle Rayner debuted two years later,
the Green Lantern who carried the flame during the Corps’ darkest hour,
and who we’d later learn was of Mexican-American descent,
granted that was a retcon,
but back then,
you take what you can get.
This was the beginning of DC and Marvel using legacy heroes to introduce more diverse characters,
like Jaime Reyes, an El Paso teen who became the new Blue Beetle in 2006.
Jaime was a big step forward for the more traditional DC Universe,
and he’s an awesome Blue Beetle,
I mean you gotta try him out in 'Injustice 2,' he's cool.
Scarab says you suck!
but the character doesn’t have the same widespread impact as someone like,
oh, I dunno…
Spider-Man!
You can't both be Spider-Man!
Okay! Let's be fair and square. I'll be Spider-Man, I called it.
Our first glimpse of a Hispanic Spidey came in 1992,
when we met Miguel O’hara, the futuristic Spider-Man of 2099,
but he never reached the same heights of stardom as Miles Morales,
an Afro-Latino kid who stepped up and became a hero in the wake of Peter Parker’s death in Marvel’s Ultimate Universe.
Debuting in 2011,
Miles gave comic fans a fresh perspective on the trials and tribulations of a teen superhero,
He spoke to a multicultural experience that’s different but no less valid than the original Spidey’s back in the ‘60s.
Being a teenager is... Being a teenager.
Miles was merged into the main Marvel universe in 2015,
and his star has been on the rise ever since,
from appearing in the blockbuster ‘Spider-Man’ PS4 game,
to making his big screen debut in ‘Enter the Spider-Verse.’
Miles helped kick open the floodgates and created opportunities for a new wave of Hispanic and Latinx heroes,
from DC’s Mexican-American Green Lantern Jessica Cruz,
to Marvel’s queer Latinx asskicker America Chavez.
Comics are slowly but surely beginning to reflect the rich diversity of our country and our world,
and as the next generations of characters and creators enter the industry,
the future for Hispanic and Latinx superheroes has never been brighter.
I know it can be scary to some people,
but change is good,
and knowing that there are heroes up in the sky who look like me,
and thousands of other kids opening up a comic for the first time,
gives Hispanic and Latinx fans the chance to feel something they might not have experienced in comics before:
The chance to feel seen.