I was listening to a song this morning “Umi Says” by Mos Def (Yasiin Bey) in the middle of writing today’s post, and I zoned out a little bit. I started imagining being an observer of the distant past and the things I would see. Then this whole scene played out in my head and just kept going so I decided to write it down along with the rest of the post. It’s not quite a vision, more a daydream I guess, but not like my normal daydreams of driving exotic cars or spending quality time with a celebrity crush. Just one of those drawn-out scenarios people get when they’re staring off into nothing. Ok here goes…

The Daydream

The setting is the coast of what is modern day Senegal, in like 1680. I imagined seeing an entire village of people being forced into bondage. Multiple families forced into temporary prisons, unknowingly awaiting the vessel that would change their lives forever. One large family in particular all captured together. The mom, dad, and their twelve children, two of which are under the age of 3. As the vessel arrives, the traders have already decided how to market their product. They speak with the merchants on the ship, exchange payment, load up the human cargo bound for the new world. Before leaving though, they decided the mother and her two youngest babies would best serve as help in London, leaving the dad and his 10 children to endure the worst.

First stop, Brazil. Potential buyers eagerly awaiting, all bidding for the best product. On this stop 2 of the children are sold to two separate buyers. The reality of what is going on fully sets in for the father who is helpless to protect his children from this insanity. Next stop, the Caribbean. As these crazed men bid on his children, he loses it. Four different buyers decided to buy 4 of his babies at this stop and he refuses to stand idly by. The slave traders have seen this before, so they decide he’s the first candidate to be made an example of. They laugh and brag about how this “Buck” needs to be broken, so these maniacs strap him to a post and take terms raping him in front of everyone. The vessel continues to Jamestown with him and his remaining 4 children. 

Upon arrival at Jamestown the remaining 4 children are sold to different families and the father is used one last time as an example of what rebelling earns you. They strap him to a post and beat him until he loses consciousness, castrate him, and as the last bit of life drains out, they go on about their day as if nothing happened at all to highlight how callous their souls really are. The father tried to defend his family, but now they’re spread across Europe, the Caribbean and the British colonies. All of this was by design. 

Every now and then the children in the Caribbean saw each other and they were happy for a moment, but when this happened, they were sold to a family in a different place. Quickly they learned to not rejoice when they saw their brothers and sisters out of fear of further separation. In the British colonies, it was the exact same practice, and the kids were spread out over 4 different states. The children in Brazil were working to the brink of death harvesting sugar. The only saving grace, if you can call it that, was being raped and impregnated by their owners. Then they were allowed to carry the children to term and the conditions improved for them slightly.

They all went on to have children, most of the girls by way of being raped by the slaveowners, the boys “bred” with other slaves to produce strong offspring. Initially, many of the offspring in these places would encounter cousins but they too were conditioned to not rejoice when it happens. This continued for a couple centuries until chattel slavery was fully abolished in the Americas. At this point though, the families were so conditioned to not rejoice at seeing someone that resembled them, that they felt a more familial bond with their captors than their own flesh and blood. As that thought concluded, Yasiin was singing “I want Black people to be free, to be free, to be free”…”that’s all that matters to me”. 

The People

A long time ago, in a land far away from where I am now, I dated this chick whose dad was from the Dominican Republic, and her mom was from South Carolina or Georgia, I forget. She didn’t speak Spanish, never went to DR, her skin tone was darker than mine, and her dad bounced when she was like 3 or 4, but she exclusively claimed being Dominican. In retrospect, I’m not sure why I was debating her about this at that time, but I did. It’s not my concern what someone calls themselves or what they identify as…at least that was my stance when I realized I was debating myself out of some sex. Since those days, I’ve had the “so you’re Black” conversation more times than I can count, with more people than I recall. 

Usually, these conversations are with Black people from Spanish speaking countries in the Americas. Those people are typically bilingual with direct ties to the country, although in a few of those cases they just had a foreign sperm donor for a dad. Given media depiction of Black people in the United States, I understand why actual foreigners think distancing themselves from us is a smart thing. In this game of life, no one is signing up to play it on hard mode just because. The thing is that those same people end up playing on hard mode anyway because racial profiling and discrimination occur long before the “I no Black, I Dominican” conversation is ever heard. Go figure. 

The Trick

Last year I was watching a YouTube video, and I heard a term that up until then, I’d never heard before. Foundational Black American. I didn’t think much about it because at the time, it didn’t sound like a real term, just some shit this earthy looking chick freestyled in the moment. I have heard the term several more times since then unfortunately, and I fear there may be buy in. I had to research the meaning and where it came from. Not to my surprise, the shit is relatively new and the dude that coined it is making money from it. This guy is trying to “gatekeep” Blackness as a unique trait of Black people from the United States and it is evident to me that he is just as well versed in history as I am in underwater basket weaving. 

I can’t think of a personal situation in which I was as lost about something as these two types of people. On one side you have the Afro-Latin group that are more than eager to embrace the spoken language as heritage, while ignoring the origins of their traditions being “Afro”. Then you have these Foundational Black American types that are ignoring the shared experiences of Black people, just because their ancestors were sold at a port or two before their own. As if families were not torn apart on those slave ships. As if they were grabbing totally different types of Africans for each stop on the way. As if the spoken language is their actual heritage and culture and not happenstance because of which colonizer purchased their forefathers. 

The Truth

Maybe I’m too accepting or I just see it for what it is. To me, there is no worthwhile difference outside of language spoken and socioeconomic conditions levied upon folks by their respective governments. Maybe I just have a different definition of what it means to be Black. I know the media portrays Black people from different places as different, and that divide creates a mental separation between varying regions. This to say, the kid in East London listening to Grime music is living a very similar story as the kid from the West side of Chicago listening to rap, who is living a similar story to the kid in Kingston Jamaica listening to Reggae, who is similar to the kid in Panama listening to Reggaeton. That’s ALL Black music, born out of the Black experience in different environments with different language or accents. It would be equivalent to saying people whose ancestors were sold in Florida are totally different than someone sold in Maryland. Same people different location.

Don’t get me wrong, I fully understand that there are differences in how brutal slave traders were in different areas, and all that, but those conditions don’t change origin. Destination does not change origin. What happens tomorrow does not change what happened last week. I think it’s important for Black people to understand WHY the media places so much emphasis on this “destination versus origin” conversation. I think it is equally important for White people that want to be true allies to understand it as well. The goal in pitting Black people against each other is simply continued White supremacy. It is key in controlling people and directing attention away from the real fuckery going on.

One Love

Yes, race is a social construct primarily based on physical characteristics…ethnicity is a population or group of people who share common descent or cultural background. For anyone still paying attention, the slave trade hit all the Americas as well as Western Europe. Translation, descendants of slaves in Panama, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Cuba, Mexico and Brazil share common descent with descendants of slaves from the U.K., Canada, The United States, Jamaica, Trinidad, who also share common descent with descendants of slaves from Haiti, Guadeloupe and Martinique. Our artistic and cultural creations are born from the same struggle. They were all forced to speak a new language, adapt to a new climate and land, deal with being hated and brutalized because of their African ancestry. 

It sucks to have this conversation or debate about it at all honestly. For me, that family separated at the various slave ports is still family today. Considering so much effort went into and still goes into keeping the descendants of slaves from rejoicing when we see each other, or loving our origins, I think it’s time that we stop voluntarily separating ourselves. For anyone that I’ve ever had the debate with, and for those that I’ve never had the debate with, this is my rationale for laughing or looking funny when I see a shirt that says “Afro-Latina” or “Afro-Caribbean”. The love of shared origins is why I talked myself out of getting some in my younger days so many times. The understanding that the only people disappointed at me rejoicing when I see my brethren, are those that benefit from us beefing. This is why I don’t subscribe to any voluntary separation. We may not all originate from the same village, we aren’t speaking the same language, our skin tone and hair textures may differ too, but we’re all one, we’re all Black and as Yasiin Bey stated proudly “That’s all that matters to me”.