In honor of BLACK History Month, let's talk about BLACKNESS...
Yes When we think of “blackness” we may think of the 60's power movement slogan, “I’m Black and I’m Proud!” made into a common slogan by James Brown. For many, blackness may be determined only by what is represented as far as our skin color and not touching the surface of our spirit or soul. I’ve never been mistaken as anything but BLACK as far as appearance goes. In fact have always gotten the question if I am from somewhere on the continent of Africa such as Nigeria, Sudan, Senegal or Ghana. I always respond, “noooooooo, I’m from Cleveland” (kind of sarcastically). For some, unfortunately, being associated with Africa or anywhere on the continent would be looked upon as a badge of shame. For me, it is truly a badge of honor to be so closely related (at least outwardly) to my ancestry. I have spent part of my life being told that I sounded and sometimes “acted” white. It never occurred to me that having proper diction, enunciating and using “big” words were taking away from my blackness. Were these things that were a part of ME, making me less ME???
There seems to be an imagery in people’s minds as to what is Black. If you do not fit this so-called imagery, you are either deemed, not black enough or too black. Could I with my deep, dark black skin ever be deemed not black enough???? We have sometimes other people and even ourselves to wrongly define what it means to be BLACK. Why does being black have to involve poor diction or gang-related activities or drugs? We are diverse and from all walks of life in our community. Having grown up in an environment where my mother was extremely cognizant of my surroundings and the people I was around, I would certainly say I had a bourgeoisie attitude and upbringing. Our Blackness as a family never seemed to be an issue. I do remember, as I grew older being told that I wasn’t like everyone else (whatever that meant). I was probably so into myself (vain) that I took that to be that I was special, as my mother always reminded me that I was special. But wasn’t everyone special to their momma??? My blackness never seemed an issue for me, till I vividly remember being at Cornell University and all of my friends were reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X and I remember refusing to read it because I thought he was militant. (my how times have changed :-) I also remember refusing to see “Do the Right Thing” by Spike Lee because I thought he was militant, as well. When I look back on those years, I was suffering from "informational confusion" and mainstream brainwashing. It didn’t involve wanting to be or act white, but it was a denial or refusal to look at another perspective of things and allowing someone else to tell, our story as the descendants of kidnapped people from Africa. One day friends and I were having a conversation and one of my friends who is first generation “American” from Sierra Leone had stated proudly that she did not have any white people in her family and in fact, could trace her lineage to great Ethiopian warriors. I think my turning point came in terms of my being aware of my blackness (not outer but inner) when I came face to face with the reality of my family’s ancestry and how I could not trace my history past my great grandmother. That lit something in me that inspired me to have a deeper love for my people and for self. I was determined to learn more. I wanted to know as much as I could find about our history and what our brothers and sisters went through during our holocaust. I found out so much information and opened up myself to alternative perspectives that literally turned my life around.
I’m appreciative of my history that brought me from a refusal of reading a book because it would mess up my so-called understanding of things to loving every bit of blackness that I possess. This “blackness” that many think of, isn’t what is always shown outwardly. Blackness that is embedded in the soul is far more reaching than that which we see on the outside. The concept of being too Black can bring about fear for some. Accepting eurocentric (basically, any type of history that leaves black or dark people out of the picture or relegates our existence to slavery and that of only servitude) doctrine eats away at the fabric of our Blackness. The thought that someone could have a concept or thought that is deemed militant or revolutionary so you refuse to hear it and you bury your head in the sand and pray that it goes away, is asinine. That used to be me burying my formerly permed head in the sand. In my quest to grow and develop, my search lead me to Islam. It has been on this journey in The Nation of Islam, that I have embraced fully my true essence in being BLACK.