by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Mar 9, 2016 | Entertainment, Feature |
For a while the most popular literature and television programming about black people captured no sense of African consciousness. We’ve been far removed from The Cosby Show which introduced many of my generation to Miriam Makeba or A Different World which introduced us to divesting from businesses that supported apartheid in South Africa. Those shows and others of the late 80s to early 90s taught my generation that we don’t only have a history in Africa but our actions affect our present and future connection with the continent. But since then we have slipped out of the realm of cultivating such an understanding of our connection to the continent. For the last decade or so, television programming about black people has been driven by self-interestedness over communal values. There has been nothing to remind us of our descendants and ancestors. On the literary front, we were also hard-pressed to get beyond the Zanes and the Steve Harveys of the world. But recently there has been an uprising of African narratives from African-born writers and creators that is breathing a breath of fresh air on literature and on-air/online programming.
We see its presence in the work of Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie author of the novel “Americanah” which tells the story Ifemelu, a young woman who journeys from Nigeria to America and back again. It is primarily a love story but it also acknowledges the cultural differences between American black people and non-American black people. Ifemelu captures and critiques these differences on her blog and Adichie uses Ifemelu’s blog posts to break up the narrative arc of the book. Though these blog posts are the work of a fictional character they resonate as fact among African and African American alike. Adichie also has Ifemelu return to Nigeria where she comes to grips with the ways that America has changed her and also the ways in which Nigeria in particular and Africa in general will always be a home to her despite the ways in which she has fallen out of love with it. African-American readers of “Americanah” are forced to take a look at the ways in which American culture influences their perceptions of African people and question the relational disconnect between American and non-American blacks. “Americanah” is at the top of many books lists and is rumored to be optioned for a screenplay starring Luptia Nyong’o as Ifemelu. Adichie’s earlier novel “Half of a Yellow Sun,” which tells the story of the effects of the Nigerian-Biafran War through the eyes of five different characters, is now a full-length feature film and is currently being screened in major cities. The film features an all-star cast including Chiwetel Ejiofor, Thandie Newton, and Anika Noni Rose.
Teju Cole is also a part of Africa’s uprising in American literature. Nigerian-American Cole was born in the US, raised in Nigeria until the age of 17 and came back to the states. A Distinguised Writer in Residence at Bard College and a regular writer for publications such as the New York Times and the New Yorker, he recently released his novel “Every Day is for the Thief” in the US–it was published in Nigeria in 2007. The novel tells the story of a young man revisiting Nigeria and facing some of the less beautiful aspects of life in Africa, such as watching the audacious Nigerian scammers in action—you know, the ones who e-mail many of us claiming we will inherit millions if we respond to their message. Cole’s is a less glamorous account of revisiting the continent, but he also holds that in tension with the fact the he believes Nigeria is “excessively exciting” to the point of being overwhelming. In an interview with NPR’s Audie Cornish Cole said, “But for me, personally, I have not actually really considered seriously living in Nigeria full time. This is my home here [New York and the United States], and this is the place that allows me to do the work that I do…I’m fortunate to be able to travel to many places, and to go to Nigeria often. And so I feel close enough to the things happening there without needing to live there.” This quote captures the beauty of Cole’s work which banks on both his lived experience in Nigeria and life as an Nigerian-American writer trying to maintain some semblance of a connection. His next book will be a non-fiction narrative on Lagos.
Finally the most recent example of Africa’s uprising in American literature and entertainment is the new web series “An African City.” Created by Ghanaian-American Nicole Amarteifio, the series follows five young African women who move to Ghana after educational and professional stints in America and Europe. The show is billed as Ghana’s answer to “Sex and the City” but it is actually smarter than SATC. The characters don’t just navigate the sexual politics that SATC was famous for, they launch into the deep of socio-economic politics on the continent. The show touches on the plight of the underdeveloped countries, the people who hold the power in such countries—mostly men, and the premium placed on the authentic African woman over the African woman who has been corrupted by Western ways. It branches out from self-interest to communal concern. The series also provides viewers with a look at the landscape of Accra, a region that is reaching toward urban metropolis status in the midst of strong rural roots. Shots of dirt roads lined with shacks where vendors sells their wares and old Toyotas putter down the streets offset the young women’s appetite for cosmopolitan fare and fashion. The show balances inherited American sensibilities with ingrained African pride with style and grace within each 11-15 minute webisode.
And lest I be remiss there is Kenyan Lupito Nyong’o. Born in Mexico City and raised primarily in Kenya, she stole our hearts in her first major acting role as Patsy in “12 Years a Slave.” She also steals our hearts every time she appears on a red carpet, gave an awards acceptance speech, or appeared on the cover of or in the pages of a magazine. Her beauty is being celebrated by many–and it isn’t limited to the fashion and beauty industries. Nyong’o is blazing the trails that supermodel Alek Wek set for African women and expanding dominant views of what is beautiful. But it is not just Nyong’o’s beauty that is captivating, it is her humble spirit and intelligence that is reminding the world that Africa is a force to be reckoned with.
Lupita Nyong’o, Nicole Amarteifio, Teju Cole, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie and many more African-born actresses and actors, producers, writers and other creative types are broadening American understanding about Africa and its people. They are also expanding the African-American consciousness on Africa. We can only hope that this is truly the start of a beautiful relationship that goes from this generation beyond.
by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Jul 17, 2015 | Feature, Headline News |
#SandraBland #WhatHappenedtoSandraBland #JusticeforSandy #SandraBlandWeSpeakYourName
Another day, another crop of hashtags dedicated to the loss of a black life. Through these hashtags and subsequent news stories we were introduced to Sandra Bland, a 28-year-old black woman from the Chicago area who was in Texas because she just accepted a new job at her alma mater, Prairie View A&M University. On Friday, July 10, Bland was pulled over by police for not signaling properly during a lane change. Then, as expected nowadays, the tone of the story changed to Sandra being “combative.” It is alleged that Bland was hostile and violent toward the police officer that pulled her over–which curiously turned into two police officers having to subdue her. Video from an eyewitness shows Bland on the ground with two police officers on top of her. From what can be seen, there was no sign of struggle on Bland’s part, nothing that would suggest that she was being forceful with police as they’ve suggested. But what is heard is eerily similar to other incidents involving officers subduing people, particularly that of Eric Garner whose last words were, “I can’t breathe,” or the more recent incident of the police officer who slammed a young black girl to the ground at a pool party in McKinney, Texas. Some of the last words we hear Bland say are,
I can’t even feel my arm.
You just slammed my head to the ground, do you not even care about that?
All of this for a traffic signal, slammed me into the ground and everything.
Shortly after this, Bland was arrested and taken to jail for her alleged assault of the police officers. Bland remained in jail throughout the weekend until Monday morning when someone delivered her breakfast and then, two hours later, was found dead in her jail cell. Authorities are ruling this a suicide but Bland’s family and most people who know better roundly disagree with this ruling. Details surrounding Bland’s case are sketchy and everyone is looking for answers.
I want to say, “Since when do police require people to get out of their car for a routine traffic stop, especially one as routine as failing to properly signal,” but I remembered that in 2012, a white police officer made me get out of my car on I-75 and walk toward him while he stood by his car. He had me stand on the side of the highway while he questioned me about why I was driving so fast, why I had Florida tags, how long I’ve been at Emory, and a bunch of other questions I no longer remember. I’d never heard of someone having to get out of their car on the shoulder of a busy highway and I thought I was supposed to stay in my car and wait for the officer to come to me, but he waved me to get out of my car with an irritated look on his face. So what happened to Sandra Bland is real, not a figment of our imagination. And what most likely happened–an assault that ended her life, not her taking her own life–is real.
But I also want to take a moment to point out something that, at this moment, will come as an inconvenient truth. It isn’t meant to distract from the issue at hand but is meant to be a reminder of what is possible–although not in this situation–and what is probable for some black women in regard to suicide.
As many disagree with Sandra’s death being ruled a suicide their rationale for doing so is dangerous. People have said that she would never commit suicide because she was happy, successful, a good person, a member of a Greek organization, on her way to a new job, etc. The problem with this is it paints an incomplete portrait of people who actually do commit suicide. (I am saying “actually do” to distinguish what happens to some black women and people who commit suicide, in general, from what happened to Sandra Bland in particular, she DID NOT commit suicide.) The profile of people who actually do commit suicide varies and it includes those who were seemingly happy, successful, and good people. Black women do commit suicide, we aren’t immune to taking our own life. Sometimes the life we live is burdensome, we wear the world on our shoulders and that burden and the world crush us to the point where taking our lives seems like a better idea than continuing with life. This was some woman’s truth who actually did take her life and this may be the truth of a woman contemplating suicide at this moment.
Furthermore, as black women and black men continue to watch black lives being taken with impunity and we suffer from the trauma of repeatedly watching these scenarios, I fear that it is more likely that we, as a community, will have to come to grips with mental health and wellness, some of which may cause depression, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide, and committed suicide. I say all of this to say that we must be careful about how we talk about suicide and its victims. It is not just for non-black women, or unhappy black women, or unsuccessful black women. Suicide happens in our community though Sandra Bland did not commit suicide. We know that in Sandra’s situation, suicide is unlikely because of the details surrounding her last few days of life, including the newly released information that she attempted to post bail a few hours before her death.
Sandra Bland is yet another victim of a corrupt, cruel, and unjust system. Sandra Bland, like every victim before her, deserves our attention and best efforts to fight justice. But as we respond to the erroneous claims that Sandra committed suicide, we also have to measure the words about who commits suicide and why carefully. But as I stated earlier, this is not meant to distract from the very real situation at hand, the loss of another black life. So this leads us back to where we started.
Why is dead and why do we have to keep using social media to get our questions answered?
by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Jul 1, 2015 | Feature, Headline News |
On June 28 the hashtag #whoisburningblackchurches started on Twitter in response to the recent spate of church fires. A multitude of voices have contributed to the discussion counting the number of current church burnings, recounting the history of black church burnings, and calling media and white Christians to the floor of accountability and responsibility.
Seven churches have been set on fire in the past week and a half. College Hill Seventh Day Adventist Church in Knoxville on June 21; God’s Power Church of Christ in Macon, Ga on June 23; Briar Creek Baptist Church in Charlotte, NC on June 24; Fruitland Presbyerian Church in Gibson County, Tennessee; Greater Miracle Temple church in Tallahassee, Fl on June 26; Glover Grove Missionary Baptist Church in Warrenville, South Carolina on June 26 and now, the seventh church, Mt. Zion AME church in Greelyville, South Carolina. Though the current burning of Mt. Zion AME hasn’t been ruled a hate crime or terrorist act, the church is no stranger to either as it was the site of destruction in 1995 when KKK members set the church on fire, destroying it.
Since Dylann Roof’s mass shooting that took the lives of nine people at Mother Emanuel AME and since the debates about removing the Confederate flag have ignited, we’ve seen an increase in hate crime and activities. The KKK has boosted its recruitment efforts and even has plans to hold a rally at the South Carolina statehouse on July 18th. And now here we are, many of us watching black church after black church burn. The church, the one place of refuge for many black people, is burning. What shall we do?
It’s time for a lot of people to step up including a lot of predominantly white churches. White silence in general has been a problem as we’ve grappled with the issue of violence and police brutality against black people with impunity. But white Christian silence in particular cannot be tolerated at this point. Several Twitter users called out Joel Osteen, Joyce Meyers, Rick Warren and other popular white pastors to find out their response to black churches burning and all of them were met with silence. At the time this story was published none of the aforementioned released statements about the black church burnings and this is problematic not only because of the sheer volume of incidents but the clear disregard for the church. Yes, inherent in white Christian silence on this matter is a disregard for the church.
If black churches are burning that means the church is burning and there can be no separation there. If our church is burning, so is yours and it becomes a part of your concern and responsibility because you are, as we are, part of God’s body. #WhoIsBurningBlackChurches is an important question to ask because we must get to the root cause–although many of us can guess who the perpetrators are. But WHAT WE DO from here on out counts. This is no saccharin call to reconciliation that is often hard-won because very few understand racial reconciliation. Neither is this a call to prayer–which is necessary but not sufficient on its own. But it is a call to action to those who still hold the balance of power, to intercede on behalf of the oppressed, violated, and exploited. A call to express explicit concern and actively engage black church communities. This is also a call to the black church community that, somehow, we won’t lose faith in God and in the church that has been a place of refuge for us. That may be easier said than done but my prayer is that we continue to show up and boldly stand in the face of evil. That we continue to speak out against every injustice, including the one that is currently visiting us, and pray to not be overcome by fear.
Lastly, 2 Chronicles 7:14 says, “…if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, pray, seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” The scripture is God’s response to Solomon who had just dedicated the temple to God, fulfilling the promise. David, Solomon’s father, wanted to build the temple but God told him, “You did well to consider building a house for my name; nevertheless you shall not build my house, but your son who shall be born to you shall build a house for my name.” 2 Chronicles 6 is Solomon’s dedication of the temple to God where he also establishes a long petition in hopes that God will hear and forgive God’s people when they sin against God and each other. God responds in the affirmative that He will respond to Solomon’s petitions and hear the prayer and the cries of His people. I often appeal to this scripture at times like this. At this moment it is relevant, in my opinion, because manifold are our sins against each other and God. I can make strong declarations about what we must do but I also recognize that we, too, must humble ourselves, pray, seek God’s face and turn from our wicked ways. To me, this scripture speaks to all of us and the part all of us play in the destruction of our churches. Last week in a lecture at the Candler School of Theology, Cornel West said,
“White supremacy is in the souls of black and brown people. The imperial identity is inside of us. We are all a mess.”
As you can imagine, his words shook the room. It may not be something everyone will agree on but, in many ways, there is something “other” inside of some of us that has taken as far away from our first love. Given this, our asking #WhoIsBurningBlackChurches requires that we question ourselves as much as we question the perpetrators of this terroristic act. I don’t claim that we, black people, are at fault, but I claim that those of us in the black church are as much as part of the answer and the hateful cowards we are searching for. Many of us have turned our back on the black church because it hasn’t been what we want it to be. We’ve stepped away from it in its traditional iteration to do our own thing and left it to, symbolically burn, while we go to perceived greener pastures. But the grass is greener where you water it and the black church needs us now more than ever. So I call on those of us who have abandoned the black church as much as I call on those who never respected it in the first place. A house divided will not stand, but a house unified will persevere and it is times for us to turn back in on ourselves and our church to water it and protect it from further harm, internally and externally. Again, I want to make it clear that I’m not blaming black people for burning black churches, but I am encouraging all of us who have a stake in the black church’s survival, literally and figuratively, to really put that question through the grinder and find all accountable parties.
Let us continue this discussion, #WhoIsBurningBlackChurches.
by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Jun 17, 2015 | Feature, Headline News |
In less than 24 hours the Dominican Republic will begin what is euphemistically being called a “social cleaning.” In this process of state housekeeping, the government will deport over 100,000 Dominicans of Haitian descent in effort to tidy of their immigration rolls. The criteria for this is unjust and appalling, ranging from targeting those with Haitian-sounding names and dark-skin to picking out women who look like prostitutes and considering those to be among the number.
According to an aid worker whose account was published in The Nation, the following is occurring:
“…in the barrios, police trucks have come through to conduct limpiezas (“cleanings,” with the adjective implied: “social cleanings”): “The detained tend to range from intoxicated persons to suspected prostitutes, but are disproportionately Haitian or dark-skinned Dominicans with Haitian facial features. These could just be guys drinking and playing dominos or women standing on street corners. More often, though, they tend to be young men with Haitian features and darker skin. The police usually—usually—detain them for a night and then let them go with a warning.” But, he says, this stepped-up activity is preparation for June 16:
Given the common practice of nightly police sweeps, the government solicitation of passenger buses, the official declaration of intent to pass Law 169-14 without delay on June 16, and the general history of anti-Haitian abuses on the part of law enforcement and government authorities, it is reasonable to assume that the infrastructure is now in place for mass detention and deportation of Haitians and Dominicans of Haitian descent from the Dominican Republic. The general attitude among this vulnerable subpopulation is a mix of fear and resignation.”
The majority of those in danger of being deported are migrant workers who own businesses in DR but there are also families, women, and children who are at risk of being deported to Haiti. Some media sources have referred to the threatened population as “Haitians” but this is a misnomer because the people actually have no connection to Haiti—some having never visited the country—and thus they are being deported to become strangers in a strange land where there aren’t even enough resources for an influx of citizens.
Many are currently scrambling to gain legal residency before today’s 7pm deadline, but they are doing so in the midst of volumes of paperwork and understaffed offices. Even if they are able to get through the paperwork and the lines there are criteria they must meet such as proving that they arrived before October 2011. This becomes particularly challenging for those born in rural towns under the care of midwives which, in many cases, means they weren’t issued birth certificates. Immediately this puts many at a disadvantage and increases the risk that they will be deported from the only home they’ve known. One has to wonder if these criteria weren’t purposely established to ensure that many wouldn’t be able to secure their residency before the deadline.
Unfortunately, the current situation in the Dominican Republic is nothing new. It is only making good on an approximately 78-year tension that has existed in the Dominican Republic. It started with the 1937 Parsley Massacre which was carried out by Dominican dictator Rafael Trujillo who targeted Dominicans who were dark enough to be Haitian or who were unable to pronounce key words in Spanish. So what we are seeing today is a continuation of an old battle fueled by anti-Haitian sentiments. Discrimination is at the root of this and the “social cleansing,” which is actually more akin to ethnic cleansing, is the government trying to create some semblance of ethnic purity on the island.
Furthermore, this is not just a battle on the island but America has a role in this. In an interview in the Americas Quarterly, Haitian-American author Edwidge Danticat said,
One thing that is not mentioned as often is that early in the 20th century (1915 to 1934 for Haiti, and 1916 to 1924 for the D.R.), the entire island was occupied by the United States. Then again, in the D.R. in the 1960s, Trujillo — who not only organized a massacre, but wiped out several generations of Dominican families — was trained during the occupation by U.S. Marines and put in power when they pulled out. Same with the Haitian army that terrorized Haitians for generations. It is not a matter of blame but a matter of historical record.
Thus the discrimination currently taking place is a strongly-rooted practice in not recognizing Dominicans of Haitian descent as full Dominicans.
According to sources, the government has procured 12 buses and opened processing centers at the border to expedite the process of deporting the Dominicans of Haitian descent.
So what can we do?
1. The Dominican Republic is a hot tourist destination for many black and brown people. Thus the first thing that any of us can do is ensure that our fellow brothers and sisters with plans to vacation in the region this summer cancel their trips immediately and boycott. We must choose our people’s freedom over our leisure and to continue to pump money into DR’s economy is to suggest that we don’t care about their lives.
2. Sign the petition to pressure the Dominican Republic government to stop the “cleaning” they have planned in the next few days.
3. Encourage the Human Rights Watch to become more vocal about this situation, particularly through their director, Ken Roth, a prolific social media user who hasn’t addressed the situation much–only one tweet of a NY Times story and the Human Rights Watch homepage has nothing about the situation on their homepage. Tweet the @hrw (Human Rights Watch) : “Why are you ignoring Haitians in DR? Stop the exile!” Share the same tweet with both the Congressional Black and Hispanic Caucuses. Call HRW, follow link http://m.hrw.org/contact-us
4. We can continue to complain about what mainstream news media isn’t covering or we can just cover it ourselves. Let’s stand in solidarity with our brothers and sisters in the Dominican Republic and remember that, we too, share in their struggle. Keep spreading this news on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram to get the word out.
Story sources:
The Bloody Origins of the Dominican Republic’s ethnic “cleansing” of Haitians
Five Things to Know About the “Cleaning” of Haitians from the DR
Why You Should Boycott the Dominican Republic
We Regret to Inform You that in Four Days You and Your Family Will Be Deported to Haiti
The Dominican Republic and Haiti: A Shared View from the Diaspora
by Nicole Symmonds, Urban Faith Contributing Writer | Apr 28, 2015 | Headline News |
Nowadays news breaks faster than it can be consumed yet it all results in the same clarion call, “Black Lives Matter.” I can barely keep up with it all and sometimes I don’t want to. It’s not that I don’t care, I care very much. It’s just that its hard and exhausting to be angry all the time—which is the rate at which I’d have to be angry because of the rate at which police are violating black bodies. It’s difficult when you continue to be angry about the same thing, hear people tell you how to be or how more black men should be, but very few aim their suggestions and critiques at the systems of oppression that are at the root of the problem.
A State of Emergency was declared by the governor of Baltimore, a city ravaged by the frustration of its citizens but the governor–and his peers–didn’t declare a State of Emergency for the police that beget the violence. Additionally, privilege rears its ugly head and reveals that it is not only in the hands of the fairer skinned but those in positions of power. This means that hearing Black people call their own brothers and sisters “thugs” is not unlikely.
Initially it seemed like most of us were on the same side but now we are divided as some people suffer from selective amnesia and categorize the rage as those people “tearing up their own community” as those people “being animals,” as those people “being thugs.” Somehow these people forgot that the origins of the rage are not because of this isolated incident–it is a response to a larger issue–and it is not among those people in community but among those other people in power over them. Those other people who have historically had a stronghold over black lives since our arrival in this country at their hands. They’ve been looting and plundering this land for centuries and their stories make up the majority of the narratives in history books, but we are the ones who get called thugs when we raise up against the systematic pillaging of black bodies.
It has been said that history is written by the victors and in the 21st century most of us get to see exactly how it is written by various media outlets that consistently get the story wrong. These media outlets are our modern-day victors because they get the ratings and the money even when they get it wrong. These media outlets also participate in murder, even if only through the continuous character assassination that is waged through their pens, keyboards, and microphones.
We, black people, are taking it at all sides. Suffering the abuse of those called to protect and serve us. Mischaracterized by those who are supposed to do fair and balanced reporting. Not being supported by those who share the same ancestral lineage as us.
How much more can we take?
What we are witnessing in Baltimore is people who are tired of injustice. It is about Freddie Gray but it is also about the manifold times law enforcement violated black bodies and black voices were ignored by people in authority. They are people who are sick and tired of being sick and tired and thus they took to the streets in protest to have their bodies seen and their voices heard. They organized themselves for protest but were met by contrarians who don’t support the “Black Lives Matter” message or movement. And thus, another type of protest unfolded. I can only say, as I saw echoed on social media, “I do not have to condone it to understand it.” The issue at hand is not property damage but it is people damage. The root causes of the people damage are systems of structural and systematic oppression set up to perceive black men and women as targets and marginalized persons not worthy of full humanity. This is at the heart of the protests and the shouts that “Black Lives Matter.” For over a year many have taken up that mantra in support of the dignity of black lives but we’ve yet to see any change. President Barack Obama said it well in his press conference today when he said,
“But if we really want to solve the problem, if our society really wanted to solve the problem, we could. It’s just it would require everybody saying this is important, this is significant — and that we don’t just pay attention to these communities when a CVS burns, and we don’t just pay attention when a young man gets shot or has his spine snapped. We’re paying attention all the time because we consider those kids our kids, and we think they’re important.”
As a community of faith we are called to speak out against injustice. We are called not just to pray or write #PrayforBaltimore but to actively lay our hands to the plow of affecting change. We are called to do what we can to change the narrative and recast the images of us that the media insists on disseminating. We are called to raise up black bodies to their rightful position of humanity, dignity, and sacredness by casting down every argument and action contrary to that. We are called to use the energy of righteous indignation to drive us toward justice-seeking measures. We trust God to bring justice but we must also understand that part of that is the work we do to reveal justice here on earth. It is not a supernatural waiting game that we play. There is work for us to do, even for those of us at a distance from Baltimore. To that end, here is a list of things to do in support of the on-the-ground efforts in Baltimore and make clear, how important we believe black lives are.
1) Call your elected officials, and ask them if Black life is a priority for them, where they stand on 1033 program (policy that allows military equipment in cities), and when will they declare that the killing of unarmed Black and Brown citizens a national emergency, especially with elections around the corner?
2) Find ways to support grassroots efforts and spaces like Baltimore United for Change Coalition and Empowerment Temple;
3) Donate to organizations such as Operation Help or Hush which is currently ensuring that kids on reduced or free lunch are still being fed during school closures
4) Sign up to be a mentor, and if in Baltimore or DC, I suggest US Dream Academy;
5) Write an op-ed, create a video message, help change the narrative.
Thank you to attorney Ify Ike, Esq. for the suggestions on ways to help the people of Baltimore out. If you have any further suggestions, please leave them in the comments.
