The knowledge of one's history and culture is fundamental to the development of a positive ethnic identity. Yet, unfortunately many British African and African-Caribbeans in the diaspora community have not been informed about their ancestral history and culture. I was one of those in the British African-Caribbean community, who was largely ignorant about my ancestry and the knowledge of my heritage. Yet, like a child who was seperated from his mother at birth, so I began to seek a reconnection with "the motherland".
Sentiments of Contradiction
I wanted my preconceived ideas about "mother Africa", to be challenged, confronted, and confirmed, by not just reading a history book but by my first-hand experience. Consequently, I packed my bags and at the age of twenty-one I travelled to Ghana. It was the 50th year of Ghana's independance, a celebration of revolutionary figures like Kwame Nkrumah; a man who adopted the ideas of Marcus Garvey and dreamed of a liberated African nation, free from the oppression of colonialism. It was the perfect time, the perfect place, the perfect journey, well so I thought it would be.
My pilgramage was one of contradiction. It was a journey filled with joys and increased knowledge, but also one of sorrows and pain. The joy was in simply being there, of waking up to African drumming, clapping, dancing and singing voices. There was the amazing African landscape, the rainforests, the wide ranging species in this land of contrasts. However, the pain was in seeing the reality of broken down social systems, of the vast inequalities in healthcare and education, of sporadic electricity and of course the random mysteriously looking bugs (of which I personally termed the Unidentified Flying Objects).
There was also the pain of coming face-to-face with slavery at Cape Coast Castle. Holding the real chains of slaves, walking into dungeons where Africans were afforded significantly worse treatment than the animals. I saw the teeth marks engraved on the concrete floor of where African slaves desperately longed to escape from their personal hell on earth. Indeed, visiting such a place definately stirred my emotions.
Different Continents, shared histories
Armed with contradictory sentiments about "the motherland", I made my second journey to the African continent and I visited Sierra Leone. Indeed, Sierra Leone is most notably known for its brutal civil war which left many displaced, injured or killed. It is known for the recruitment of thousands of child soldiers to the rebel faction of the Revolutionary United Front (RUF), which waged war against the ruling government of the All People's Congress (APC). However, there is much more to Sierra Leone than a decade of war. It is full of rich history that is particularly relevant to those of Jamaican descent.
Sierra Leone is a place that has close linkages to the Jamaican Maroons. In Jamaica, the Maroons (who were particularly based in Trelawny, Jamaica) were Africans who rebelled and fought against the slave trade. This revolutionary group eventually settled in the mountains of Jamaica, but some were captured by the slavemasters and were taken to Nova Scotia before being exiled to Sierra Leone. Descendants of these Jamaican Maroons form part of the Krio ethnic group in Sierra Leone today. Moreover, descendants of the Jamaican Maroons include revolutionaries like Marcus Garvey.
In striving to learn about the history of Africa, I was informed about the history of the Caribbean. Consequently, I believe that the histories of these different continents should not be viewed in isolation but rather in synchronization. Likewise, the cultures of Africa and the Caribbean should not be viewed as distinct but rather as mutual. The Caribbean has longed influenced thought, philosophy, popular culture in Africa, largely through figures such as Bob Marley and Marcus Garvey. However, we can also trace origins of Caribbean culture to the African continent.
Therefore, this page is to promote the shared heritages of African peoples both in Africa in the Diaspora. To provide enlightenment, to help dispel ignorance, and to challenge preconceived ideas. Come with me, as we travel on this journey of learning and understanding together.
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Embracing All of You
I am against black nationalism. I love, respect and tolerate each race, culture and even religion. However that said, I do believe in an appreciation for your individual race and culture. The problem comes when you exalt your culture above another. Sadly, this has been the response of the extreme black nationalists. They have tried to fight fire with fire, which burns everyone involved. They have tried to counteract oppression with more oppression. I love being black, but being black is no better than being white, Asian or any other race. Being black and proud does not mean I must disdain other cultures and races.
People with low self esteem tend to suppress others. Putting down people is actually a defense mechanism. They are anxious about their own identities, and try to reaffirm themselves through undermining others. Therefore, I do not envy or feel offended at racists, I actually feel sorry for and pity them. Those who are comfortable and can embrace all of themselves, are the ones who are more happy in life. But to embrace yourself surely you must know who you are? I think this has been a difficulty in being black, particularly for those in Diaspora. We sometimes feel that we have been assigned an ambiguous and conflicting identity. When we are asked 'Where are you from?', many Diasporan black people have difficulty answering this question. I believe the difficulty with providing an answer to such a question is that we often think in a singular fashion, rather than an holistic one.
We all put people into boxes, but the problem is that we all do not fit into one box. Personally, I know that I am made up of parts, that have their origins in different boxes. Therefore, I cannot ultimately say that I am from one particular box. The secret to embracing ourselves is valuing each and every box that we came from. We should not discard, and undermine anywhere we came from.
In my case I was born in Britain, however, my Grandparents were born in Jamaica. Does this mean that I must cling to my Britishness and shun my Jamaicaness? Or Vice versa? I argue that to do so is to undermine your own self identity. It is to suppress yourself, a self that cannot be escaped from. Personally, I embrace all of me. Just because I am British does not mean I cannot be Jamaican, or even African. It is the same with race, we can often put mixed race people into boxes, and encourage them to deny their whiteness or blackness. We adopt an either or mentality when in reality they are both. We do not have to choose between one or the other. Therefore, whether we are mixed raced, or mixed cultured we must embrace all sides, all boxes, everything that makes us up.
People with low self esteem tend to suppress others. Putting down people is actually a defense mechanism. They are anxious about their own identities, and try to reaffirm themselves through undermining others. Therefore, I do not envy or feel offended at racists, I actually feel sorry for and pity them. Those who are comfortable and can embrace all of themselves, are the ones who are more happy in life. But to embrace yourself surely you must know who you are? I think this has been a difficulty in being black, particularly for those in Diaspora. We sometimes feel that we have been assigned an ambiguous and conflicting identity. When we are asked 'Where are you from?', many Diasporan black people have difficulty answering this question. I believe the difficulty with providing an answer to such a question is that we often think in a singular fashion, rather than an holistic one.
We all put people into boxes, but the problem is that we all do not fit into one box. Personally, I know that I am made up of parts, that have their origins in different boxes. Therefore, I cannot ultimately say that I am from one particular box. The secret to embracing ourselves is valuing each and every box that we came from. We should not discard, and undermine anywhere we came from.
In my case I was born in Britain, however, my Grandparents were born in Jamaica. Does this mean that I must cling to my Britishness and shun my Jamaicaness? Or Vice versa? I argue that to do so is to undermine your own self identity. It is to suppress yourself, a self that cannot be escaped from. Personally, I embrace all of me. Just because I am British does not mean I cannot be Jamaican, or even African. It is the same with race, we can often put mixed race people into boxes, and encourage them to deny their whiteness or blackness. We adopt an either or mentality when in reality they are both. We do not have to choose between one or the other. Therefore, whether we are mixed raced, or mixed cultured we must embrace all sides, all boxes, everything that makes us up.
The African Diaspora? Who Are They?
Outside of the Africa are large numbers of Africans who simply do not know who they are. I know this because I am to some extent one of them. However, (while trying not to appear better than anybody else), I feel that I have gained an understanding that is greater than the average African in the Diaspora. Particularly more than those Africans from similar backgrounds as myself. For those who do not know, I am a young black African man, who was born in the UK. I would have you to know by the way that simply defining myself in this way, is a subject of intense controversy, but yet it is an obvious reality that I will explain in detail.
It is perhaps surprising that I hold this sense of an African identity, as it was far from made explicit in school, society and in my family. In fact, my grandparents have never been to Africa, and I am the only family member to have stepped foot on the continent. This is largely because all my Grandparents were born in Jamaica, and feel little affinity with the African continent. This lack of identification with Africa is nothing new, but it has been passed on from generation to generation since the first black slave arrived in Jamaica and underwent a ‘seasoning process’. My ancestors were truly psychology ‘seasoned’, and I am one of many who have reaped the fruits of their forced ignorance.
My ignorance reached to the point that at school I did not even know I was African. On the contrary, as black children we used to tease each other by calling eachother Ethiopian, Kenyan or even African. To call a black person in my school African (where almost all the black children were of Caribbean descent), was a serious insult. To us, to be African was to be poor, skinny, suffering, ugly and uneducated. Well this was the only image of Africa we saw on the television, and it perpetuated within our psyche, and we then concluded that this was not us, it was them.
Sadly, to this very day this notion of being black but not African still pervades. These ideas of self are not limited to uninformed school teenagers, but rather it is a widespread feeling within the African -Caribbean Diaspora community. In Britain, the very identification of our African identity was hidden from us even in Ethnic Diversity forms. We were called ‘Afro-Caribbean’s’, our sense of our African self was purposely hidden, through the denial of the word African. I remember asking my Aunt in my early teenage years what the word Afro meant, and she could not provide me with a comprehensive answer. This is because she did not know the true meaning herself. This shows us that this severe lack of knowledge of self-identity amongst the diaspora has proceeded from generation to generation. It was there long before my Grandparents were born.. This lack of self-knowledge amongst the Diaspora is not a natural phenomenon, nor is it modern.
It is perhaps surprising that I hold this sense of an African identity, as it was far from made explicit in school, society and in my family. In fact, my grandparents have never been to Africa, and I am the only family member to have stepped foot on the continent. This is largely because all my Grandparents were born in Jamaica, and feel little affinity with the African continent. This lack of identification with Africa is nothing new, but it has been passed on from generation to generation since the first black slave arrived in Jamaica and underwent a ‘seasoning process’. My ancestors were truly psychology ‘seasoned’, and I am one of many who have reaped the fruits of their forced ignorance.
My ignorance reached to the point that at school I did not even know I was African. On the contrary, as black children we used to tease each other by calling eachother Ethiopian, Kenyan or even African. To call a black person in my school African (where almost all the black children were of Caribbean descent), was a serious insult. To us, to be African was to be poor, skinny, suffering, ugly and uneducated. Well this was the only image of Africa we saw on the television, and it perpetuated within our psyche, and we then concluded that this was not us, it was them.
Sadly, to this very day this notion of being black but not African still pervades. These ideas of self are not limited to uninformed school teenagers, but rather it is a widespread feeling within the African -Caribbean Diaspora community. In Britain, the very identification of our African identity was hidden from us even in Ethnic Diversity forms. We were called ‘Afro-Caribbean’s’, our sense of our African self was purposely hidden, through the denial of the word African. I remember asking my Aunt in my early teenage years what the word Afro meant, and she could not provide me with a comprehensive answer. This is because she did not know the true meaning herself. This shows us that this severe lack of knowledge of self-identity amongst the diaspora has proceeded from generation to generation. It was there long before my Grandparents were born.. This lack of self-knowledge amongst the Diaspora is not a natural phenomenon, nor is it modern.
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