African-American is a relatively new term given to a group of people who “historically” were brought over to the Americas via vessels and were assimilated against their will to live and become today’s generic African-Americans. But like all things, the farther back you go the more you’ll realize that these people are not the original people from Africa to have made it the Americas. To be factual about our origins and generational diasporas that have occurred since we could ambulate on two legs, all of us that now reside in the United States of America have our origin in Africa and are now living in America. That uneducated term is reluctantly, if at all applied to White/Caucasian people who have moved to the United States and are simply labelled by whatever perfunctory term best suits them.
This post initially was born to explain the wonders and dynamics of traveling, but as “way leads on to way, I doubt if I ever shall come back.” A favorite quote of mine, from Robert Frost in The Road Not Taken, is how I wanted to illustrate the beauties of opening your mind. But as I went on my tangent, I realized there was a more poignant and interesting post that could be written first.
Race, as defined by the authoritative Merriam-Webster is, “a group of persons who come from the same ancestor.” How far back must the ancestral line be? Could it define tribes or groups of people in the Amazonian regions as belonging to a separate race or are they simply just, “Natives” or “Native Americans?” I travel not to visit the Turkish Race, or the Swedish Race nor the European Race, but it is to eat and learn about another culture. Webster’s defines this word as being, “a particular society that has its own beliefs, ways of life, art, etc.” Let’s take myself for instance, for those that simply will look at my photo, and the brief synopsis of my past would classify me as an African-American, my parents on the other hand would consider me to be a West Indian, and my Turkish friend simply calls me an Arab. What’s the truth? Wikipedia probably has the best definition of what I am, a Third Culture Child, but the true story is I’m a West Indian national who was born in the Middle East and raised there till I went to high school in the United States. My educational yearning years took place in Connecticut, my early dating years were influenced by the Orlando area, but my educated and refining years took place in Washington DC. And now, my professional lifestyle is gaining some influence from the Dallas area.
So, do I think I’m special? No, I don’t think anyone is special or has a particular characteristic that is unique, the characteristics that we are comprised of does however make us special. Race is no more important than a person’s height, eye color or weight. These are features that may help us find a mate, or someone who you would enjoy doing like activities with, but they do not tell you anything about the person. History tends to repeat itself as do sayings, such as “don’t judge a book by it’s cover”. I challenge all who read this to listen to yourselves and friends when they make uneducated comments about another person’s race to correct themselves or their friend’s comments.
It is in this author’s opinion that one could be understood by the cultural traits they exemplify if defining an individual into a large group is necessary. This could range from the Portenos of Buenos Aires to the hip hop culture portrayed by many different races. Some of the fears of the late 70s and 80s were that a little white boy may listen to the hip hop music and be influenced and moved by it and be drawn “down” to that level. I believe a Mr. Marshall Mathers would disagree with that theory, as would the many Producers, DJs, and Corporate Executives whose wealth is based on that industry. Cultures are rich, full, unpredictable and for the most part they do not make any sense at all. They do things in a certain way for a reason that may be outdated or silly, but it helps define that particular culture. Whether they are characterized as German or American cold or Hispanic and Italian warm it is fascinating to see what these people of one race have become as individuals.
I leave with this note that is geared towards my current hometown and many in America; just because his last name is Cruz, he may not be an undocumented illegal immigrant living under the radar and driving without insurance. Then again, there are many things about Senator Ted Cruz that would not surprise me.
Till then.
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