History!

My great aunt turned 102 years old November 4th. She lived to see what many of her generation thought impossible. That implausibility was that America could elect someone president based on his ideals and his message and not the color of his skin. It gives me hope.

Last week I talked with my younger co-workers about the election. They found it exciting because they felt a part of history. It made me think back about how many historical moments I have witnessed in my life. Elvis Presley's "Hound Dog," the invasion of the Beatles, Hippies, Martin Luther King's march on Washington, the civil rights struggle, the assassinations, the wars, 911. And now this.

I have no illusions about Obama's presidency. He has a very harsh world of problems to face. But I do feel as many that this is a transformational moment. Change is not just a noun or verb. It is a movement. And I am alive to experience. Hope and awe.

Meeting David Wilson

"Meeting David Wilson" is a documentary that follows David Wilson on his mission to discover to find more about his family roots in Caswell, North Carolina. That mission includes David Wilson, the descendant of slaves, meeting David Wilson, the descendant of the owner of those slaves.

I missed the airing on MSNBC last Friday. I surf the television schedule hoping there would be a rerun. Unfortunately, they did not air the show again but luckily they did post it online. However, when I went back to the MSNBC page to find a link for the video, I discovered it was no longer there. Instead they are promoting the DVD.

I am glad I watched it. It was an amazing story that inspired me to visit my ancestor's homes sooner rather than later. It brought out points I hadn't considered in my own research such as trying to envision the hardships of the life they led. David Wilson was able to work in a tobacco field, a feat I will not try to recreate in the cotton fields of Mississippi or Tennessee. I am not that dedicated. But I was impressed with Wilson's dedication. He was also able to find an abandoned slave quarter that could have been lived in by his ancestors. That scene was haunting. He also made the trip to Africa and visited the slave fort that housed two million Africans destined for slavery.

After watching the video, one impression was engraved into my spirit. It wasn't anger as some expressed during the video. It was gratitude that I have "choice." That sentence sounds so inane but the emotion it evokes in me is monumental. I can choose where I live, what I eat, who I marry, where I work. I can keep my children close. No one can come and separate me from them. Tears comes to my eyes even as I write this. This is what the USA was supposed to mean for everyone born on its soil. Now it actually does. Yes, I know America is not perfect and there are still lots of inequities. But think about it. A man is running for president who just happens to be black and he has a good chance of winning especially if we as Americans judge him not by the color of his skin but by the content of his character. It makes me so very proud to be an American right now.

Race, Color, and Nationality

When it comes to certain labels in America, I am confused and I don't think I'm alone. It is not as simple as black and white, pun definitely intended.

The issue came up during our monthly genealogy meeting. I think it started because one of the members was displaying her DNA results. She was happy that her African roots had been identified but she was mystified that there was no trace of Native American DNA. She always believed she was part Indian. It forced her to accept her European ancestry. This led to a lively discussion about our collective identities.

I consider myself a Black American. Others see themselves as African-Americans. My confusion comes because I believe that anyone with ancestry from Africa and citizenship in America can be called African-American. Charlize Theron can be called African-American. And what about African slave descendants that live in the other Americas like Canada or Brazil? To compound my confusion, some people including some of my club members believe that Barack Obama can't be called an African-American or Black because he isn't descended from African slaves. But his father was African and he even knows what part of Africa from where he came unlike the majority of Black Americans. Crazy

When you add Native Americans into the mix it gets even more confusing. There are Black people with Native American genes and Whites who married Indians that are being denied their Indian heritage by the ruling tribal councils. Even though these individuals are descended from people on the Dawes Rolls (the Final Rolls of Citizens and Freedmen of the Five Civilized Tribes) and have documented proof of their ancestry, they aren't recognized as citizens of their tribes. Those that are disenfranchised are accusing the Indian tribal councils of racism.

There are other divisions in our society and within the sub-cultures. It was pointed out at the meeting that someone knew a lady who was American but whose parents were from Japan so she considered herself Japanese not American. Puerto Ricans consider themselves Puerto Rican, not Black or African-American even if they have ancestors from Africa.

I guess it comes with our melting pot culture. And it is a testament to our democratic society that we all sort of kind of get along even with all the labels and hyphens. But it sure would be less confusing without them.