More than anything, I HATE being told that as a Black American, I have no culture.
Today in my seminar on African American women’s poetry, myself and another African American girl lead the discussion on Countee Cullen’s poem, What is Africa to Me and Lerone Bennett’s essay entitled The African Past. The two questions that had been posed were:
1. In the essay, Bennett says “Africa’s golden past is crucial to an understanding of black America…For it is impossible to understand white America, it is impossible to understand Thomas Jefferson or George Washington or the U.S. Constitution without some understanding of Africa’s gift to the New World.” Do you agree or disagree with this premise and why? Is the opposite also true?
2. Bennett opens and closes the essay with lines from Countee Cullen’s poem Heritage, which is also referred to as What is Africa to Me. What significance does Cullen’s poem have within the essay and how does one contribute to our understanding of the other?
During the course of the discussion, one of the Black South African girls in the class raised her hand and made the argument that African Americans have no culture.
I will not comment on her ignorance, but I will say this:
When Africans were taken from their homes during the slave trade, they did not simply arrive to America and lose their African identity. They may have adjusted it a bit, but they most certainly did not lose it. In fact, today traces of African culture (and yes, I do acknowledge that Africa is a large continent with many different countries and cultures) can been seen in African American culture. For example, Black English, or what some refer to as Ebonics (which literally translates to Black English) contains traces of different African language practices, including tone inflection and tense usage (my thesis is going to be on this particular topic if anyone is interested). In addition, many Black churches in America shout and speak in tongues during services, practices that were not uncommon in African practices of ancestor worship. Today in America, the Black family is a very tight-knit structure as it is in many African cultures. Furthermore, as many of you know, I’m taking an African dance class right now. I cannot tell you how many dances we’ve learned that are reminiscent of Black American hip hop culture. We have learned everything from the heel-toe, to “trademark” Ciara and Michael Jackson moves, to a cute little twist and bounce my mom often does at weddings and barbeques.
On the other hand, I exist in a culture that has allowed me to gain an American education, listen to “pop” music, and eat hotdogs and hamburgers (American) as well as fried chicken and watermelon (African American), pizza and spaghetti (Italian), and fried rice and General Tsos chicken (Asian). My culture has produced blues music, jazz greats, pop, hip hop, and even country icons (we can’t forget Chuck Berry), and minds like those of DuBois and King. I have some ancestors who helped to build the very foundation of America, some who abused those who did, and some who were immigrants by choice. We have laughed to keep from crying, danced to forget the pain, and clung tightly to a God we know would never forsake us.
So no, my culture may not be the African culture that some Africans think it should be. Nor is it “American” culture that many white Americans are able to identity with. Instead, my culture is a hybrid of the two. My people are a resilient people who are able to adjust to whatever is thrown their way and our culture is ever-changing. But nonetheless, it is without a doubt a culture…and I couldn’t be more proud of it.
Location: Rosebank, South Africa
