So, as I watched whites with their American flag t-shirts, and little white girls with their red, white and blue ribbons in their hair, I couldn't help but feel some disdain. Disdain for the fact that I am an American and this national holiday is not a celebration for all but for some. What's more, it's a reminder of a painful history of back breaking labor, brutality and lost of identity. But, I Am an American. This is My country, built on the backs of My people and so there I stood in a crowd of red, white and blue in my fushia top and my navy blue skirt, clearly not a part of something when the blood that runs through my veins is the same blood that built this nation to its greatness.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Not My Independence
Independence Day is the one national holiday that never fails year after year to leave me in a perplexed state of mind. On July 4, 1776 the United States declared its independence from Britain. Americans celebrate this day with magnificent fireworks, cookouts, parades; displaying their patriotism through red, white and blue clothing. However, for me and many blacks, this pride in one's country and rejoicing for its independence is not shared. Don't you dare call me unpatriotic and don't you dare call me un-American (but then again, I'm not running for political office), because you see I'm proud to be an American. It is the only identity I know. When my ancestors were stolen from their native lands and brought to this country in great ships, chained to each other like animals, they were stripped of their identity, forced to adopt a new way of life as property to be owned and used in anyway desired by their owners. While the United States delcared its freedom from Britain, it was enslaving my ancestors. Blacks were enslaved until 1865. There was no rejoicing and singing for them in 1776. There was no freedom, no independence, no nothing to be had because how can you have anything when you don't even belong to yourself?
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3 comments:
Your piece is an interesting prospective on American tradition and its people. I, too, share a similar response to Independence Day. As a descendant of slaves, whom did not gain their independence until years later, I find it quite ironic to wave my American flag and sing songs of patriotism, when the day America celebrates independence, my ancestors were still being denied their own personal freedom. The mere thought leaves me bitter , and it makes me ponder on what it means to be an American. I was born in America, so was my father and his father as well. So, "why," I ask myself, "do I not feel American?" I believe that the great Malcolm X said it best with this quote:
"Sitting at the table doesn't make you a diner, unless you eat some of what's on that plate. Being here in America doesn't make you an American. Being born here in America doesn't make you an American."
So here I sit, at America's dinner table, where the menu includes freedom from prejudice, freedom from discrimination, and a sense of comfort and security in our government. So here I sit, here I sit with my people of color...looking at our empty plates, and each other...
Okay, Malcolm X. I thought this was a healthcare blog!
Okay, so I meant to respond to this, but I have been lazy. On Independence Day, I could've sent all of my friends texts that said, "Happy Independence Day!" but I didn't. Instead I chose to say "Happy 4th of July, I hope you enjoy your day off from work. Of course, if the United States hadn't declared their independence from Britain, it would've been alot better for black folks in the long run." I said that because Britain was one of the first countries to realize the inhumanity of slavery and to abolish the slave trade and slavery.
I felt that, on a day when many were rejoicing about the history of this country, I had a responsibility to help MY friends see a different perspective on the past. The fact is, my ancestors were enslaved on July 4th, 1776. My ancestors were considered sub-human on July 4th, 1776, when Thomas Jefferson wrote that "all men are created equal". My ancestors were shackled and beaten on July 4th, 1776, while the "founding fathers" wrote of the idealistic notions of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." My ancestors labored in fields of tobacco to actually achieve the lofty goals expressed in the flowery calligraphic prose of the Declaration of Independence, approved by the Continental Congress on July 4, 1776.
I want to celebrate an Independence Day that acknowledges my ancestors as responsible for the true independence of the United States, but instead I am relegated to celebrating the passage of a document that didn't even acknowledge them as human beings. I know, I know...some will say that I should just make it mean whatever I want it to and celebrate accordingly...but to rephrase a Sojourner Truth line... ain't I American?
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