The Bandera Cimarrona, a flag conceived at the first edition of the International Summit of Afro-descendants in Puerto Rico in 2022, stands as a symbol of the resistance, the pursuit of freedom, and the strength of Afro-descendants on the island and throughout the Americas.
We have deployed several types of cooling systems here, each one used depending on climatic conditions. The system, created millennia ago but updated for the 21st century, works by cooling water underground in the naturally low temperatures at night. To cool water more quickly, some is also sent to the roof via solar-powered pumps and sprayed out of nozzles in a thin layer through a method known as a falling film, before draining back down underground.
It makes me feel proud, simply because of the specific time we're in right now. It definitely takes a lot of courage for kids my age to represent their culture. Anthony Benitez, an 18-year-old violin student born in the United States to Mexican immigrants, expressed how the academy provides a meaningful outlet for cultural expression amid punitive immigration enforcement affecting Latino and immigrant families across the country.
Dating to the 1st-2nd century A.D., the bronzes are about 20 inches long and mounted to rectangular bases. They capture the little girls in dynamic movement, frozen in the act of propelling themselves forward, their fingers splayed wide on each side of the partridges just about to catch them. The craftsmanship is superior, every detail on the toddlers and partridges realistically depicted with fine materials. The eyes are inlaid with white stones and one of the girls still has her metal irises.
Michelle Paulin dances while instructing youth at the Dulce Tricolor Venezolano dance group at the Ariel Dance Studio in Campbell on Jan. 25, 2026. Dulce Tricolor, a Bay Area Venezuelan dance group founded in 2019, teaches children traditional folk dances while preserving culture, building community and offering a sense of home amid Venezuela's ongoing political and economic crisis. (Josie Lepe for KQED)
As the women built a thrumming rhythm from their drums and began to chant while others danced, the Hula Halau O Nalua and Ote'a Api School of Polynesian Dance seemed to teleport from the interior of an industrial park in Fremont to a Hawaiian island. It was a Wednesday evening, and a class of about 25 students had gathered in this halau, or hula school, to practice their dances.