To be African American is to be African without memory and to be American without privilege
AUTHOR UNKOWN
I came across this quote on Instagram a while ago and haven’t been able to get it off my mind. Perhaps, it is because it perfectly articulates my feelings about race & identity in America.
We, black Americans, sons and daughters of the African diaspora, are constantly reminded we don’t belong here. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve heard white peers suggest we “just go back to Africa” if we’re so unhappy here. Or how many times I’ve been met with a look of total confusion or anger when I explain that my ancestors have likely been in this country much longer than their ancestors that came through Ellis Island in the 1900’s.
This is a subject that has been of particular interest to me because next week I am finally traveling to Africa! Friends, family, co-workers, even strangers who overheard my plans have all bombarded me with questions about my trip. Mostly how I decided on the countries (Kenya and Tanzania) and how many vaccinations I’ve had to get (3).
So I decided to create a post where I answer some of these questions and reflect on what it means to be returning home.
I want to first start by pointing out that in September 2018, Ghana’s President Nana Akufo-Addo declared and formally launched the “Year of Return, Ghana 2019” for Africans in the Diaspora, with the goal of encouraging children of the diaspora to be reunited with their African brothers and sisters on the continent.
So if anyone reading this is also considering travel to Africa, this is the year!
You can read more about this on the UN website or the official website of the Ghana Tourism Authority
Now for a little background on my upcoming trip. This will be the first time I am visiting the continent of Africa. In total, it is a 34-hour journey (including an overnight layover on Doha, Qatar). I will be visiting two different countries: Kenya and Tanzania. And will be spending a total of 11 days in Africa.
Are you scared?
This is the question I get asked the most. Considering the distance from Los Angeles, I can understand why one might be scared. Thirty-six hours of traveling is definitely a daunting feat but if anything, I’m mostly just anxious.
Anxious to get away from the office for two weeks.
Anxious to experience new cultures and taste new foods
Anxious to finally step foot on the continent of Africa, my ancestral homeland
Anxious to see if I am accepted as a lost daughter of Africa
The last one is a big one for me, and probably many other children of the diaspora living in America. A few years ago, I remember reading about how the people of Accra welcomed Maya Angelou with open arms in “All God’s Children Need Traveling Shoes”.
As I look ahead to my trip, I can’t help but wonder what my own homecoming will look and feel like.
The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned. It impels mighty ambitions and dangerous capers. We amass great fortunes at the cost of our souls, or risk our lives in drug dens from London’s Soho, to San Francisco’s Haight-Ashbury. We shout in Baptist churches, wear yarmulkes and wigs and argue even the tiniest points in the Torah, or worship the sun and refuse to kill cows for the starving. Hoping that by doing these things, home will find us acceptable or failing that, that we will forget our awful yearning for it.
MAYA ANGELOU, ALL GODS CHILDREN NEED TRAVELING SHOES
Why did you choose Kenya and Tanzania?
I know I previously talked about Year of Return, Ghana 2019 so why choose Kenya?
While I would absolutely love to go to Ghana, I only recently learned about this marketing campaign. Had I known about it sooner, I would have probably tried to change our plans to go there. Especially considering a large part of my ancestry is tied to that region. However, I also recently discovered a small percentage of my ancestry is tied to Kenya and other east African regions so it still feels like I’m taking part in the Year of the Return.
We were initially drawn to Kenya because of the Maasai Mara National Reserve, located in southwest along the border of Tanzania. The annual wildebeest migration brings in hordes of tourists to the area each July. Our original plan was to go during this time, unfortunately we had to change our travel plans so we will just miss this it this time around.
Just means we’ll eventually need to make another trip!
As for Zanzibar, I feel like no justification is needed. I mean, have you seen pictures?
How long will you be staying and what will you be doing?
We will be spending 6 days in Kenya split between Nairobi and Maasai Mara, and five days in Zanzibar.
As mentioned above, we will be traveling to Maasai Mara National Reserve. We will be doing a 3-day safari. Upon our return we will hop on a plane to Zanzibar for a dream island vacation! The plan is to explore every corner of the island, starting with Nungwi.
I’m PADI-certified so weather-permitting (it’s the tail end of rainy season) I plan to dive the Mnemba Atoll. Definitely going to try to get a cooking lesson in and sample some local seafood.
But mainly, I’m looking forward to turning into a complete beach bum and taking in these turquoise blues!
Is it safe?
Is anywhere safe? My mom hates when I refuse to acknowledge her constant fears of something happening to me while traveling. But why should I? I don’t let fear dictate what I do or where I go. I will obviously be taking the proper precautions (vaccinations, travel prescriptions, carrying proper identification, excursions with licensed tour operators, etc.) and exercising caution when necessary, but by no means do I think I will be in danger at any point.
It [this question] also, at least to me, seems to perpetuate the gross misconception that Africa is some wild land ruled by savages. It seems to be a common belief that the entire country is poverty-stricken and overrun with disease, and anyone who dares visit is seriously putting their safety at risk. And to that I say, have you heard of a place called the United States of America?
Do you think this will change how you experience being a black woman living in America?
Absolutely! And if there’s anything I’m afraid of it’s this. I grew up in the suburbs of Los Angeles and attending PWIs (Predominantly White Institutions) my entire life. My closest friends up until high school were all white or non-black. All my childhood crushes were on white boys.
It is because of my background that I sought out black faces in these white spaces I found myself continuously occupying. I chose to live in a specialty dorm on the “black floor” in college. I chose to join volunteer organizations aimed at assisting black youth. I chose to surround myself with people that look like me because I finally had the option to make that choice
So for me, there is this very real fear that I when I return I will feel an identity crisis.One that goes beyond simply identifying with others because of the color of our skin or the perceived shared trauma. One where I begin to question my own values and ideologies. Are these things something I truly believe or is it possible that they could be skewed due to my existence as a foreigner in my own home?
It’s embarrassing to even consider that my entire belief system could be the indirect result of a deep-seeded, unconscious desire to be accepted in society.
Think about it, it’s a concept that has long been discussed by authors such as W.E.B Du Bois in “The Souls of Black Folks”, Alex Haley in “Roots”, Maya Angelou in “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”, and Toni Morrison in “The Bluest Eye”.
However, I’m trying not to get hung up on this and for the time being am just looking forward to rediscovering the culture that I was robbed of.
Deep Ref(LEX)ion 