For a while, I have wanted to write a piece for my black people. Now more than ever, it seems like we have been regressing from the awe inspiring progress that we have been experiencing in this country. I wanted to write a piece for my people that inspired them in light of our plight, empowered them to do better which each present moment, and most importantly to uplift their soul and to heal the centuries of emotional wounds that scar our race.
This piece is not anti-white, it is not Afrocentric: it is simply pure love. Love for the black race, however more importantly, love for our human race. In a time when we have recently been dehumanized more than ever, I do not want to inspire us to think of how great we can be; I want to remind us of how great we have already been and are, and how that greatness beyond measure resides within us all.
With this piece, I speak of the African diaspora as a whole; however, I will focus on the black American race in particular. For the black American race is what has currently defined my experience in this world and is to whom much love is needed now more than ever.
To my black people, you are a creation of God, you are human, you are love, and most importantly, you are worthy. You are worthy of all that which you could ever desire, and your happiness is not a luxury, but a birthright. To be a black person, is to be an intricate piece of the manifestation that is human existence.
For it is within Africa, and nowhere else, that all of humanity derives. The continent of Africa is not called “The Motherland” for no reason, it is the land that has given birth to all humanity. A land, unbelievably rich in natural resources. Resources such as diamonds, salt, gold, iron, cobalt, uranium, copper, silver, oil, and even coffee. Like a mother nursing her children, mother Africa has organically provided the basis of all splendor that is our current community; and such splendor comes directly from your ancestral home.
It is with said natural splendor that we African people have experienced the plight of external exploitation. From the early Europeans, to now too many countries to name, Africa has been the stomping ground of exploitative capital. Whether that capital was goods or human life, we have experienced the weight of it all.
It is important to note, however, that long before the arrival of any colonial power, there was more than savage life within the continent that is Africa. As much as Western history books would like to construct, before European settlement in Africa: there were empires, advanced civilizations with such human advancements that are far too endless to name. From the ancient Malian empire, the Kingdom of Ghana, the Songhai Empire, to the legacy that is Ancient Egypt (who indeed were black people), and countless other civilizations. While our oppressors were in their own primitive state, Africa was flourishing with innovation and construction.
So yes, while the Europeans did arrive in Africa and commence one of the largest known atrocities against humanity in history, it is important to note the people who were on those ships. Not savages but scholars, kings, queens, princes, and warriors from civilizations that predate most in the world.
Going back to those ships, it is said that nearly 12.5 million Africans were taken captive and transported for months under brutal conditions to the many vantage points across the world for enslavement. While on average 15 percent died in these passages and only roughly 6 percent of African slaves came to what is now the United States of America: to be a Black American is the definition of a miracle.
With odds for complete obliteration being so high, the sheer fact that we exist as a race is miraculous. And not only have we simply existed; we have actively combatted the plight of our oppressors and constructed the basis for what is now American culture and society. Whether it be through the sweat off of our backs to provide the human force necessary to create the wealth this country has experienced, or the intellectual and Divine gifts of our artistry and innovation that has heavily influenced the music, food, and the culture of this nation that is revered worldwide; the United States of America is built on the Souls of Black Folk.
To my Black Americans: I love you all, dearly. We the People are the definition of human resilience. From enslaved captives from lands of different tribes, different languages, different cultures, and religions, we mustered up the strength necessary to disassemble our differences and unite together on a human front to not define our separate races, but a singular Black American race.
God, how blessed we are to be of the Black American race. For our race has been through everything and through it all, we have time and time again risen above all that which seeks to destroy us. From the cotton fields, we created the Negro spiritual and Blues. From the European hymns of our oppressors, we created our own version called Gospel. With our ceaseless innovation, we further created bluegrass, ragtime, jazz, soul, funk, rhythm and blues, hip hop, and rap.
In my short 25 years of living, I have been to numerous countries and four different continents. Whether it be a South African woman, speaking of our mutual love for gospel music, the Parisian rubbing shoulders with me at a jazz bar, or the Italian singing Stevie Wonder songs with me as we dine over pasta: I am constantly reminded of how Black Americans have enriched the lives of all humanity.
We came to this land without the capabilities of reading, writing, and speaking English, yet by our own forces we have vastly contributed to what is American Literature. From the likes of W.E.B. Dubois and Fredrick Douglass, to Zora Neale Hurston, Langston Hughes, Ralph Ellison, Lorraine Hansberry, the phenomenal James Baldwin, to the present day brilliance of Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Angela Davis, Edgar P. Jones, and the timeless Maya Angelou—with far too many others to name. Black Americans have fundamentally dotted the construct that is the patchwork of American culture of which is celebrated worldwide.
During the troubles of it all, we continued to prove ourselves as a race. We as Black Americans have become scholars, founded our own universities, we have become renowned doctors, lawyers, even President of this nation, to being amongst the richest one percent within our society. From the daring bravery that was Daniel Hale Williams, who performed our nation’s first open heart surgery, to the awe inspiring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, John Lewis, Medgar Evers, Rosa Parks, and the millions of unsung heroes—black and white, who actively contributed and gave their lives to the manifestation of the most successful movement of social justice in human history. We the People, are powerful beyond measure.
Furthermore, we came to this land under the forcible discouragement to be educated, to read or to write. Given how formidable our spirit is, it makes complete sense of why that was brutally enforced. It is undeniable how unconquerable the Black Spirit is, and as for our oppressors, all human capabilities have been systematically placed to ensure our disenfranchisement, even centuries after slavery. Yet in the words of Maya Angelou, “Still I Rise”. Still We Rise, ever upwards, towards greatness.
In the words of the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” It is with that same love that I give to my all to my black people and to humanity as a whole.
In this current state of modern day injustice, it is far too easy to forget the brilliance of who we are. To my black people, I ask that you to never forget our history. I ask that you never forget that your existence is a miracle, and that you are a direct manifestation of it all. From the African warriors, whose blood pulsates through our veins, pumping our hearts, minds, spirits, and souls with the endless energy, power, and the unconquerable force that is our ancestors.
While our nation has a longstanding haunting tradition of our oppression: from the enslavement, to the former lynching’s of the Jim Crow South, to the forcible resistance of our fight for equality, to the present day police brutality: all of which has seen miniscule amounts of justice, I want you to know that our struggle is never in vain.
In the words of our forefather Fredrick Douglass: “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” We have been struggling for a long time but in the words of one of my favorite gospel songs: “Soon this life will all be over, and our pilgrimage will end, soon we’ll take our heavenly journey, and be at home with friends again.” It is the Divine wisdom of this knowledge that our true Kingdom lies beyond this life, and that it is, “Just A Little While to Stay Here,” yet while we are here, we can heed the love of, “Thy Will be done on Earth, as it is in Heaven.” And that, “For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever.”
We can never give up. While we are merely human, we are incarnated with the unconditional love and salvation that is our Lord.
In short: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters, He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever and ever.” Psalm 23
Amen.
This piece originally appeared on unlenfantterrible.wordpress.com.