by Malik Washington
"I’m not Black or American, I’m an African."These were the words I proudly uttered, as a young adolescent sitting in the kitchen of our home. The response however, wasn’t quite what I expected.
The Africans she was referring to, of course, were those born on the continent. But what I would come to realize, is that she wasn’t so much discouraging me from defining myself as an African as much as she was challenging me to examine what made me African.
For some of the visitors, it was utterly offensive. For others, it was simply shocking. How could we, black people, be confused for white?
The question came as no surprise since so many African-Americans don’t see themselves as African. That, by default, just leaves them identified as just “American”. The very term “American”, after all, implies “white”. Everybody else gets a hyphen.
African? American? Both? Or neither? “Black” seems to be an accepted hybrid term that falls short of claiming either entity yet still denotes exceptionalism in this society.
Nonetheless, this ambiguity isn’t entirely neutral, as black people generally seem prone to distance themselves more from Africa, than America – either consciously or sub-consciously.
Sure, giving our children traditional African names or occasionally dressing in kente cloth or standing for the Black National Anthem is fun, but actually embracing Africa is another story.
For black people in America, there is nothing that keeps us from embracing the African continent. There is, however, a chain that binds us to Europe and Western standards, that causes us to view Africa as the “other” rather than the “origin” that it is, not just for black people in the US, but for the entire World.
Like anything else, the way we define ourselves isn’t all that black-and-white (no pun intended). But we must take a serious look at how we, as African-Americans, view Africa.
African-Americans that look down on Africa, look down on themselves.
Writer Malik Washington is a graduating senior at Howard University and is author of the blog Normative Chaos.
Peter Eastwood
Speaking of hyphens – good question and you have to wonder why white-trash gets a hyphen. I understand C. Columbus was looking for India and called the native people of America Indians but why didn’t anyone correct this? Why are children still told the story of the Pilgrims and the Indians instead of the Englishmen and the Americans? Scientists estimate that in as little as 50,000 years a white settlement living in Africa can turn black and a black settlement in northern Europe could turn white. That’ll probably happen first before we sort out the labels – nationality, place of origin, culture, skin color ethnicity, and all such craziness.
For me, the choice to identify as Black rather than as African-American isn’t a _rejection_ of my African descent. It’s an embrace of the fact that my condition — how I perceive the world, how I relate to the world, how I am perceived by _actual_ Africans, my familial history, and my racial identity — is DISTINCTLY American.
Tiffany B
Larry Woller
I don’t create an impression of a person, human being, by their race or religion but by their actions and words, irregardless of their ancestry.. in my house the only thing “colored” is the tv set…