Greetings Brothers and Sisters,
As I reflect on this time that has been allotted us to celebrate African-American History, my spirit is unsettled. On one hand, I celebrate the accomplishments of every Black American who has contributed their time, sacrificed their families, battled against blatant racism, classism and elitism to bring forth into existence, as well as to sustain, this beautiful country that we call the United States of America. As I observe all the man-made structures, journey along the roads, listen to music, absorb incredible art, enjoy succulent meals, rejoice from all the lives saved of medical miracles, enjoy the competiveness of sport, surf on my computer, use my cellular phone, and benefit from scientific and technological discoveries, I brim with pride knowing that my brothers and sisters whom share my hue had a hand in all of it. And knowing still, regardless of the impedance set forth from the hatred and ignorance of the oppressor, the spirit of my ancestors prevailed. That spirit is what I celebrate.
Yet, as I ponder the kidnapping and enslavement of my African ancestors; our African history and culture stripped from us, our families separated, our queens raped, our kings dehumanized, our children imprisoned; I weep. I weep because I’m taught to believe through the hoaxing of my birth country, America, that these facts that I speak of are the beginning of my history. I’m labeled fearful enough and naive enough to believe in all they tell me I should. I’m to believe that every other race, ethnicity and culture that melted into this mixed up pot, has a history that can be truthfully traced; yet, my twisted and turned upside down, inside out African and American history has to be spoon fed, in tiny bits of poisoned-ladened, entangled lies.
Lies in which I and the rest of the world are to believe. However, I do not and will not accept lies. I am truth, and seek to share with all others this truth of my history. I am born of kings, birthed by queens. My blood of African royalty was shipped here on slave ships. Across the oceans, my ancestors’ wisdom, knowledge and compassion journeyed. And in our hearts and souls, brothers and sisters, our ancestors’ dwell. This is why we had the knowledge and intelligence to erect and create. This is why we had the audacity to survive the oppressor’s horrific brutality. This is why we have the courage to continue to stand and fight in the struggle that we are still faced with today. Yes, indeed, my spirit is unsettled.
Therefore, I cannot, nor will I settle for injustice, untruths, inequality, or being labeled as a second-class citizen. Because it’s just not in my spirit! I enjoy the fruits of our ancestor’s labor, and I carry on in their spirit of knowledge, wisdom and compassion so that future generations can continue to celebrate our African-American History in the spirit of our ancestors.
Peace and many Blessings,