AS AMERICANS WE REALLY
HATE OURSELVES AS AFRICAN
DESCENDANTS
J. Malaika Pathirana
"We will preserve what we LOVE, we will LOVE what we
UNDERSTAND, and we will UNDERSTAND what we are taught."
...a nature conservationist
I was about to embark on a venture where some people of
African lineage have gone. I was about to encounter my
dogmatic, brainwashed, southern-influenced father. He was
about to see me physically and mentally in a new light.
The airplane landed in Pine Bluff, Arkansas and I was
preparing my mind to face my father and the people who live in
that region of the States. I had purchased five 1.5 liters of
bottled water hoping it would last me until I left for my visit
to Dallas. One must never drink the tap water when visiting
Jacksonville, Arkansas. (I saw a television news magazine in the
late 1980's showing a toxic leak accident that had occurred in
Jacksonville, Arkansas. The segment confirmed my fears. While
riding in the car toward my father's house at the time, I saw
men in white space suits digging around on the side of the
streets. From that day forward, I always carried bottled water
while traveling in that part of the country.)
Nevertheless, the plane had just landed and when I had
disembarked into the airport terminal, I saw my father. We gave
each other a hug, not a warm hug, just a hug to acknowledge
that we existed. When we got to his house, I loaded my suitcase
into the room where I would be staying. Afterwards, I went into
the kitchen where he was arranging bags of groceries to put
into the refrigerator. I had not only brought along bottled
water, but I had brought my organic food stuff. I knew
Jacksonville would not have any organic grocery stores so it was
up to me to feed my need. I asked my father if storing my dates
and cereal in the refrigerator was OK.
He said, "Yes."
Then he looked offensively at my hair and stated, "What did
you do to your hair??? . . . It looks like a bunch of dead
roaches on top of your head!!!!"
At least he waited until we were home to opine his
sentiments toward my hair.
I proceeded to tell him that the "roaches" were locks, or
dreadlocks. "This style has been in existence for thousands of
years," I said. "Look at the raised reliefs of most early
dynastic period Egyptian sculptures. Look at some of the East
Africans today. It is nothing new."
After my speech about the history of locks, he stated, "I
prefer to see women with long straight hair."
This statement was not a surprise to me; it only confirmed
my hypothesis about most Blacks in this country.
My father never had his own identity and he did not respect
those who had a sense of self. Hence, he does not understand
because he was not taught, therefore he will not love what is
truly his to have.
I related this story to my Senegalese friend who also has
locks which are in their infant stage (meaning they are very
short). He laughed and said his own father's words were just as
similar.
While visiting his home country, Africa, his father angrily
stated, "You cannot come into this house with that sort of
hair!" As a child, my friend had gone to the best private schools
in Paris and Europe. And now, he has his own company. Yet his
father would not accept him with locks. Unfortunately, my
friend had to concede to his father's wishes; he cut his locks.
However, he grew them back immediately after he left Africa. It
is funny - one would think that Africans would be more aware
of their cultural heritage.
Like my African-American father, my Senegalese friend's
father does not understand because he was not taught, therefore
he will not love what is truly his to have.
In college, I lived in an all-female dorm. One of the coeds
was a beautiful woman of Hispanic descent, so I thought. We
were in the T.V. room one day, talking, laughing, and watching
television. We began talking about different mixes of races. I
guess she became comfortable with me because, she admitted
in a low voice that her grandfather was Black. I was so excited.
I wanted to shout it aloud.
She quickly put her index finger over her lips and said
"ssssshhh!"
I said, "Why are you afraid? Are you afraid someone will
find out? Are you afraid you will not be able to marry a 'decent'
man?" She nodded her head yes.
I told her how disappointed I was in her beliefs.
I continued to query her: "What if you have children and one
of them looks like your grandfather, would you not love him or
her less? Would you give the baby away because he or she was
Black? Do you believe your future husband would divorce you
because he thought you slept with a Black man?" All of these
questions and more were pouring like molten lava out of my
mouth. She heard what I was saying because she gave a guilty
look. Then again, she did not hear what I said because she
could not bring it upon herself to tell anyone her "secret."
Afterwards, we became strangers.
Like many people of African descent, she does not
understand because she was not taught, therefore she will not
love what is truly hers to have.
The Black people of this world, those of African descent,
have not been taught what is theirs (their history) to have. They
do not UNDERSTAND (themselves). Therefore, they will
continue to HATE (themselves and others) because they were
not TAUGHT who they truly are.
Thank you for listening.
