Igual que lo que puede pasar con el resto de la prensa en español de los Estados Unidos que este periódico neoyorquino ha representado por más de 100 años, la muerte gradual de la casa editorial latina más antigua del país es algo que, tristemente, puede ser el comienzo del fin de una era para los medios hispanos de todo el país.
News of the gradual death of the oldest Spanish-language daily newspaper in the country is something that, sadly, could be the beginning of the end of an era for Hispanic print media in the United States.
Just like it could happen to the rest of the Latino press in the US — which this newspaper has represented for over a 100 years — news of the gradual death of the oldest Spanish-language daily newspaper in the country is something that, sadly, could be the beginning of the end of an era for U.S. Hispanic media.
The simple answer: “Because we don’t need one.” Notwithstanding, AL DÍA has been quietly and persistently advocating for it for the past 15 years in Philadelphia.
Para una de las organizaciones de noticias en esta imagen, la cobertura de latinos NO es nada nuevo. AL DÍA es un negocio latino nacido en esta ciudad.
Los números han sido publicados, tabulados por la Oficina del Censo de Estados Unidos, hechos públicos en documentos del gobierno que circulan libremente y son diseminados por el internet, y aun así son poco conocidos para la mayoría.
Filadelfia está "a punto de volverse global", con "un poco de ayuda" de sus amigos en la Fundación AL DÍA, la corporación sin fines de lucro asociada con AL DÍA News Media.
Perhaps because he wrote all his work in Spanish, he is overlooked by the Academy. In the age of the Internet, an unbearablen slight. Unfair. Un-American.
"The Truth is what will 'set you free,' once you get to know it, Scripture proclaims — and as pastors and priests remind us on Sundays."
In the year 1882 there was a Latino living in the US who found the way his community was portrayed in a newspaper in Philadelphia extremely inaccurate.
Pope Benedict XVI, visiting Cuba this week, gave Father Félix Varela a much needed "plug." The "Perfect Stranger," as we have called him on these pages, will eventually be widely known across this nation of ours, the United States of America, where he lived most of his life. Perhaps he will eventually become as popular here as he is today in Cuba, where he lived only a portion of his life.
A tweet, believe it or not, gave me the inspiration for the first line for this column, the first one I am attempting to write in years.