Confessions of a Martian, Part. 2

The martian is back, sorry for the delay. I've been experiencing what I would call "blogger's block" (really I've been drinking entirely too much in the past week to say anything intelligent, shout outs to Alpha Ball '09). What I really needed was some inspiration and I found it chilling with one of my boys last night, sipping on a couple of Olde English forties. In our drunken stupor we actually managed to have an incredibly deep conversation about the tension between African immigrants and African Americans. While trying to explain to him my passion for the word African-American and my disdain for the connotation "Black", he began an impassioned rant into why he feels the exact opposite way. The insight he injected into the argument was so eloquent and profound that it made me stop and think, "I've never really heard it put that way." - and I couldn't help but to somewhat agree with him. What I am going to do is provide ya'll with the gist of the conversation, so listen up while I drop some knowledge.

"Akata"
- a word derived from the Yoruba people of West Africa and it simply means "fox". It is widely used loosely by African immigrants to the United States to describe African-Americans and their descendants, and over time it has come to have derogatory connotations due to tensions between Africans and African-Americans. (I love wikipedia)

This word defines what many young Africans, like my friend, are taught to think of their African-American counterparts.. and if you look at the simple meaning of it, "fox", you can see where the derogatory connotation of the word comes from. Used as a verb "fox" literally means to deceive or trick. So essentially Africans are taught not to trust us, to look down on us. My boy, as an immigrant to the U.S., explained to me why he learned quickly to feel this way and only as an adult did he finally begin to quit being so naive. Growing up in the city, African-Americans did nothing but disparage Africans. They called them stupid names like "African booty scratcher", and wouldn't associate with them. The tension would oftentimes lead to all-out fistfights. In an effort to make an excuse for my people, I blamed it on ignorance; the media's unsound portrayal of Africa.. simply, most of us just don't know any better. They made my boy feel like I used to, like a fucking Martian.

Your probably wondering how all this relates to the "Black" vs. "African-American" argument, so here it goes. Frankly, I hate the usage of the word "black". To me, all it represents is nothing more than a color (if you ask a scientist though, he'll probably tell you black isn't a color), and I represent so much more than that. I have African blood, I am of African origin, I love African culture, I have African ties.. Why would I dare let you insult me by calling me something as mundane and trite as "black"?! We are descendants of a beautiful race of people, and our description should symbolize that; we should be proud to call ourselves "African-American". Therein lies the problem however, and this is what my friend brought to my attention - see, most of us, aren't proud at all. We don't give a flying fuck about Africa. We think they are nothing more than "African booty scratchers", tribesman, savages, weirdos... What gives us the right to use the term "African-American"? We are so ignorant that we do not devote the time to even learn about where we came from, in fact we disgrace it and disrespect it.

In my friend's opinion, we aren't deserving of the term. Growing up all he met were African-Americans who wanted nothing to do with Africa, who felt they were better than Africans - and you know he is 100% right. So fuck it, I can't even be mad at the term "black" until we all learn to embrace our roots; our heritage. Black is a perfect term - it's simplicity exemplifies our feeble minds - we want to be nothing more than that; nothing more than a color.

Think about it.

The Martian.