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A Black Christian, not White Muslim

Carol-and-Djime-WeddingEllen McDaniel-Weissler
LaVale, MD

When my sister, a Peace Corps volunteer, went to serve her two years with the Corps in Chad, Africa, my parents realized that she was at an age when she might meet and fall in love with someone and want to get married. My father was a Lutheran minister and a long-time anti-segregation activist, who had been involved in the 1963 March on Washington, and had spent eight fruitless years (1962-70) trying to get his congregation in Washington, DC, to become racially integrated. My sister entered the Peace Corps in the late 1970s, when my dad was pastor of a small church in a little rural town in the mountains of Western Maryland. I remember clearly that my parents’ concern about my sister’s possible romantic involvements in Chad took an interesting turn — my distinct memory is of my father saying: “If she does fall in love, I would rather she’d marry a Black Christian than a White Muslim.” The religious aspects of the possibility mattered more to him than the racial ones — not because he had any great prejudice against Islam, but because, as a Lutheran pastor, he inevitably oped that a prospective son-in-law would share the faith in which his daughter had been raised. The attached photograph shows the results of my sister’s time in Chad — in 1979 my father performed the ceremony for her marriage to my brother-in-law of 35 years — a Black Chadian Muslim — with the full support of his small congregation, at our church in Cumberland, MD.

I am not a single story

Geovanni Herrera,
Dallas, TX

p>I chose these six words after being extremely inspired by a Ted talk called “The dangers of a single story” years ago. Where Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, an African American born in Eastern Nigeria faced countless amounts of misinterpretations in her home town before realizing the truth about Americans and their norms. Like her she was met with the same type of misinterpretations from Americans. Where they questioned her based on stereotypes and false versions of Africa. With that being said there are individuals that might look at me a “Mexican” and nothing but stereotypes and false interpretations of about Mexicans begin to cloud there judgement. Giving them the audacity to say they already know what type of person I am. A race is not defined by their stereotypes and such thoughts are ignorant and limiting ones self to lies. Everyone has their own story and everyone sure as hell deserves to show theirs!

You’re Indian AND Catholic?! No way!

Josie H
Australia

I am a Catholic Indian.

The middle school I went to was not Catholic, and when I graduated into high school (which was Catholic), I ended up in the top Religion class, getting 80% + in all my tests. One day,a boy asked me disbelievingly, “You went to a non-Catholic primary school? You’re Indian? And you’re in the top class for Religion?”

For your information, I did answer in the positive for his questions, and they also made me edgy. I didn’t really mind his comment about my primary school, but it was the “you’re Indian?” question which really did it for me. It seemed as if in his eyes, an Indian cannot be Catholic. This is the kind of ignorance that promotes racism (and makes me feel like I want to punch someone).

I have a message for everyone and I really hope you share it.

Someone from Pakistan can be a Sikh.

Someone from Italy can be Hindu.

Someone from Africa can be Jewish.

Anyone can be whatever religion they wish. So stop judging others, and assuming everything about them.

Denial’s not (just) a river in Africa!

Bruce B. Rush,
Philadelphia, PA

I grew up in a generation where I lived through & was influenced greatly by expressions like “Say It Loud, I’m Black & I’m Proud,” and “Black Is Beautiful.” I wouldn’t want it any other way! At this stage of my life, I draw strength & inspiration from this line of the famous poem, “Invictus:” “…I thank whatever Gods may be for my unconquerable soul…”

I Am Shattered Pieces Scattered Black

laurennnnLauren Anderson
Kansas City, MO

I’m not sure what I would consider myself. The only thing that I know is that I am brown-skinned, but light-skinned. Many believe I am mixed with another race or other race(s), but my parents are both Black. I’m not really sure what it means to be Black or where I come from originally besides America. The issue of race is interesting because I’m not sure what it means to be me- Black/African-American. I’m sure my ancestors came from Africa, but I’m not sure. I’ve never heard anything from my parents or grandparents about Africa. All I know and all we know is that we are Black. Whatever that means!

Migrants in dinghies aren’t our enemies

Emily Jones,
UK

People in the UK can have the most horrendous attitude to migrants and refugees fleeing problems OUR COUNTRY CREATED in Africa, Asia and the Middle East. People phone the police and coastguard whenever they see a non-white person in a dinghy. “I think they might be a migrant.” Why do you think that? Are POC only allowed to exist in inland cities? “Why can’t migrants seek refuge in other countries?” They do, in their hundreds of thousands. The people that come here are just the tip of the iceberg. The ones that come here usually have family or friends here, or speak the language that we forced on half the world. Just let them in. Let them in and make them safe.

You have the right skin color

Cutting_for_StoneErin Fischer,
Boulder, CO.

This is actually the end of a quote from Abraham Verghese’s novel, Cutting for Stone. The whole quote says “Accent be damned in Africa, as long as it’s foreign and you have the right skin color.” It is referencing how a person who was low class and not well educated in their home country, can appear high class and educated in Africa just because they are foreign and white. As a white American woman who works in Africa I can relate to this sentiment and to the experience of being told, outright or through a person’s actions, that because I have the right skin color I would be allowed to do something, go somewhere, or be trusted with something above my expertise. Often I don’t realize it’s happening but sometimes I know it’s happening and why, but I don’t stop it. Maybe I don’t exactly know how. Maybe it feels counterintuitive to impose boundaries on myself when others are giving me permission. Maybe I enjoy the feeling and brush off the why. I’m not sure.

In a broader way, it spoke to me of the judgements we make every day about who we associate with how we feel about them and the assumptions we make. Inherent in this statement “you have the right skin color” is the implication that you can have the wrong skin color. Some people live with that feeling every day whereas for others it’s more shocking to think about. As humans I wonder if we’re all scarred of this possibility- this reality… i wonder if its that fear that makes us cling to our own people, our own race, our own culture… where we feel right.

Girl, you got that good hair.

hair-imageClare Norris-Bell,
Los Angeles, CA.

In the Black community, hair has been been a measurement of one’s value for generations. In the African-American culture, “good” hair refers to hair that is not kinky or not what is pejoratively called “nappy”. It is hair that is closer to the texture of people in parts of the world away from sub-saharan Africa, like Europe, Asia, or the Middle East. My hair has almost always been at least to my shoulders and wavy when pulled back and braided, fuzzy when left to its own devices, but formed small, uniform ringlets when controlled with a handful of hair gel or mousse. Obviously, “good” hair is a judgement call, not just an objective observation, and those Black girls and women who called my hair “good” as I grew up were giving my hair texture value usually superior to their own. Unfortunately, with the advent of the trans-Atlantic slave trade, it was to the advantage of Europeans to convince Americans of African decent that their features were inferior to European features. That message was powerful and pervasive. Its remnants remain strong in our society. I teach at a community college with a large African-American population, and I look at students who cannot afford books but invest their money in straight, Indian-hair weaves that hide their natural hair. That investment speaks volumes to the value Black women place on possessing what they classify as “good” hair. So I dedicate my race card to all of those beautiful Black women out there with beautiful kinky, curly hair. I am so gratified to see the slowly burgeoning movement of Black women embracing the texture of hair that grows from their heads and trying new styles and products to care for it. I am eager for the day when the weaves and relaxer chemicals stop selling and I hear Black girls and women refer to the wide variety of textures in the African-American community as “good” hair.

I’m not just a Black Man

Jared Blocker,
Gainesville, FL.

My name is Jared. And this is my attempt at trying to post a race card.

I was born and raised in the US, yet I don’t see myself as just black, I also see myself as an African-American.

Whenever I hear the term “black” I think of my brothers and sister who descend from places such as Haiti, Jamaica and of course Africa. As human beings we’ve all gone through the struggle of wanting to be accepted. The same goes for people who are white.

But whenever I hear about my culture, the “African-American” culture, I fear that the response will just be, “No you’re not, you’re just American!” I know my history and how my ancestors got here, I know of how they were betrayed, sold and treated like beast of burden.
But I also know that the place of were we came from is full of beautiful people and has many wonderful cultures. It gives me strength by honoring the memory of those who survived and for those who were lost along the way.

In elementary school most of the student body was composed of kids who were just like me. We learned things about our heritage from guest speakers, music, dance and books. But the hardest thing to swallow was slavery and the hatred that surrounded us back then.

You can call me black all you want, I don’t mind, but in the end I will always be an African-American.

But in the end these terms shouldn’t separate us, but bring people of all races and cultures together so that we can learn from one another and live in harmony.

I’m not just a Black Man, I’m an African-American Man.

Made-up, fear, love, in, out, together

Dev Michel Luthra,
Jamaica Plain, MA.

I am the child of an Indian (Asian) father and a European mother, both of whom were raised in Africa. I have spent most of my life here in the US. My brother and children were born here. I still struggle with how entitled the white elite is in terms of language, everyday life. Most white Americans struggle with any name that is not Joe or Betty. Small things I suppose but revealing: we struggle with difference. I don’t understand why. This country was founded on difference, no? But then it was also founded on the death of difference….

I am a proud American man

Charles Tanner,
Midland, TX.

I am an American,there is not a pre or post to that I was not brought here I was born here. Yes my distant family came from somewhere else. But as with anyone who truly wants to be an American they assimilated. Just as if I wanted to make any other country mine I would assimilate to their country. Their is no such thing as.an American Indian. They were native Indians. This was their land that we populated. Just like there is no such thing as African-American unless they reside in Africa. WE ARE AMERICANS STAND AND BE PROUD. NOT ASHAMED.

What country does my family represent?

Chevelloni El,
Newark, DE.

My daughter attends a multicultural festival at her school each year where students share their experiences, cultures and history. She wants to tell about our history an cultures but I would be embarrassed to set up a table that says that we are African Americans- Africa is a whole darn continent. We have no specifics. Where are my ancestors from? Did slavery keep us from knowing our history?

I am proud to be white!

Aaron Fitzgerald,
Australia.

It is OK to be white, we are NOT responsible for all the problems that the POC world faces; that the Jewish-run, liberal, left wing, Marxist media would have you believe.

All races have been responsible for genocide, likewise all races have been victims of genocide, even white people, as seen in South Africa right now, Haiti in the past. These whites don’t have “white privilege” for they get killed for being white while farming for those who hate them but the world is DEAD SILENT, imagine if the races were reversed? It seems apartheid has not ended but just “reversed”. Whites deserve a white home land, just like blacks have Africa, Asians have Asia and Jews have Israel, yet it’s somehow “racist” for whites to have Europe?

We are the worlds minority at about 6% of Earth’s population; where are OUR ‘minority rights’??

All races deserve to have their own land without forced ‘diversity and multiculturalism’

“It’s Ok to be white”

Black and white offspring aren’t ‘black’

Peter Michael,
Zimbabwe.

It is annoying and incorrect that when a black person and a white person have a child the child is referred to as black, thereby totally negating and erasing the fact that the child has 50% white genes. Is that not racism in itself?
The National Geographic issue on race of April 2018 ought to have mentioned that in the countries of Southern Africa offspring of black and white unions are referred to as Coloureds, and that there are proud communities of millions of Coloureds that identify as neither black or white and have their own distinct culture.

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