My parents were born in Haiti. I am first generation American. I consider myself (in no particular order):
I hate the fact that black people hate black people. And this pisses me off because there is a bigger system that we should be fighting. There is an entire system that was built to keep us oppressed. #BrendaX Don’t believe me, take a day off and step in any courtroom in America and tell me who you see.
I cringe when I hear what we say about each other. Especially when these hateful perceptions fall from the lips of the most intelligent black people. When someone is ignorant about certain issues you can’t really fault them but if someone knows better – it’s sad. I hear them say . . .
They think they’re better than us!
We are not them!
The way we think and feel is based on our life experiences.
You go to an ivy league college and a majority of the black slots that were historically designated for descendants of US slaves (via affirmative action – which is almost nonexistent anymore) are now filled with blacks from the Caribbean and Africa. I get it. I understand why someone would feel cheated.
When the media depicts black people in the US as violent, lazy and drama filled, it makes sense why blacks elsewhere would not want to be associated as African-American.
I sympathize with these experiences. I truly understand why one would think such a way. But is this thinking productive? No! It only hold us back and prevents us from rising.
Black history month is about celebrating who we are. Yes, we are very different but we are very much the same.
I remember getting chills one day while speaking to some friends (from Sierra Leone West Africa, Jamaica and Mississippi about the way their culture/family mourn after a death. The fact that the Middle Passage could not kill tradition . . . #speechless
We are connected and once we realize how similar we are than different, maybe we’ll start moving in the best direction.
If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. ~ African proverb