I hate being called African American. Why? Is it the African? Or the American? Or maybe the whole statement? It’s both and all of it that does not say who I am or who I feel to be.
By Dale Seabrook
How am I African? Yes, my ancestors can be traced back to Africa but according to the Out of Africa Theory, every modern human came from there too. Without this theory, other than the melanin in my skin, I have nothing that makes me African. I don’t know any African languages, traditions or customs. Can’t recall any African foods or even finding nice Kente for my wedding this upcoming August. Everything my ancestors had was looted away and replaced with Eurocentric ideas as the new norm. So this is all I knew. I knew I had Afro hair, but straight hair was everywhere I looked. From my textbooks to the TV that was all I saw. My mother raised me with what she knew and a perm and press back then, was supposedly the best view. She use to tell me “were mixed with Irish so were going to act that way, ok?.” There are zero pictures of me with my beautiful fro as a child because that would have been removing my mask and allowing someone to have target practice with me. It took me 24 years to remove this mask and fully appreciate me.
Present day I am left with searching for all that was taken. Learning how to love, appreciate and take care of my hair because a perm and press just does damage. Trying to learn Twi, how to make Jollof and not putting emphasis on age. This is why I cannot completely identify as American. Yes, I was born in America. But America made sure I was born with a target on my back. This target was placed on me, not because me or my family had done anything wrong, but simply because of the color of our skin. In order to survive, I was raised to wear a mask that hides the target on me that systematic racism and oppression has caused. I had to be the silent Black girl so I’m not viewed as the angry Black woman or had to dress up when in pain and going to the doctor so I’m not looked at as an
exaggerating junkie. Had to buy something small from stores because walking out empty handed caused accusations of theft. Had to wake up early and drive far for a good education. I even had to learn when and where it was ok for me to use my education. Abused for “talking like a white girl” and for “knowing too much for my own good.” I grew up both as Dale and Dj, confused about my identity and where I belonged.
America does not love me. In fact there are still laws that remind me of this. Ones that prevent access to IEP’s, suppress votes for people of color and some laws that still in the year 2020 allow discrimination against my Afro hair. When it comes to African and American put together as a term, my offense becomes higher than if someone was to just call me African or American. Why must I take on this term?
Considering all of the above and the fact that this once again was a conflicting statement with where I belong. This term to me is the oppressor making fun of oppressed. Mocking what I once had and what I barely have now. My fiance is European-American because he was born in Europe and is now a citizen in the USA. Yet on the United States Census he can simply check the box that says White. My best friend’s mother is from Korea and now American and she can simply check the box Asian. So why is it I have to have this non simple taunt of a term that does not in no way tell who I am?
I am Black. My skin is rich with melanin and my hair is thick and curly and rises to the sky from which I came. I am Black, my daughters are multiracial, they are beautifully brown and they know they are mixed with Black and White. I am Black, so much of my history was stolen from me that in adulthood I started with a clean, empty, black slate that I am slowly adding some of what I know and a lot that I never knew. Black is who I am, what I identify with and what I wish to be called.
After 27 years of oppression, I am finally saying it loud that I am Black and I am proud.
Dale Seabrook is an El Camino College graduate and a senior at Cal State University Dominguez Hills in the ITEP program. Founder and CEO of Seabrooks Services: Education for the whole child, not just their academics. Effervescent Millennial mom of two special needs daughters who enjoys travel and food.
