We all wear so many hats, so many faces. It’s hard to keep up sometimes. I am a mom, a daughter, a sister, a veteran, a former inner city youth, a grown woman and so many more things. The one thing I can’t seem to figure out is my nationality when it comes down to this country. My “people” have been negro, colored, black and now I think we’re African American. I call bullshit. I seem to do that a lot on this blog. Yes, I realize the title at the top of the page says the Voice of the African American Female. Its only because most people wouldn’t quite get “The Voice of some chocolatey goodness with a kickass shoe collection”, besides, I think that may have been too long.
Recently I was having an discussion about who the fuck am I on facebook. My “people” have been so many things that we are all confused so the one thing I know for sure is that chocolate is brown…like me, chocolate is awesome….like me and chocolate has no time to be anything other than what it is….like me. What I don’t have time for is America’s identity crisis when it comes down to people who were born here. I don’t give a hot shit if it was a Mexican, a Filipino, a Jewish person…blah, blah, fucking blah. We keep wondering why there is the divide, why can’t Americans come together and not give a damn about where our ancestors come from until a building or two get toppled. In my opinion, if you were born here, you are an AMERICAN. Period. I am all for learning about one’s heritage but we should not have to be defined by that heritage.
I can guarantee you that massa was in the slave quarters and I’m way more than Afrikan when it comes to my heritage. My family on my mothers side has a historian, my great grandfather was a Chickasaw Indian, slaves were given the names of their masters, my last name is McRae, work with that for a minute. Oh, I also know that there is a little Chinese flowing through these veins. This is going to make filling out an application pretty damned difficult (this might be part of the reason I’m self employed), I can’t work for people who want to put me in a box. My “people” are Americans, they are Veterans, they come in every color of the rainbow AND I have never been to Afrika (yeah, I took the C out of that shit because if we’re going to be right, then lets be right). I have been to South America because I wanted to go, I have been to Europe because I wanted to go, I have been to Mexico because I wanted to go, see the pattern? I have never been to Afrika in case you missed that from the sentence above. Interestingly enough, I have a lot of places on my wish list but this is not one of the places on it. Lots of history, yep and based on my skin color I can assure you that I have ancestors that originated there. OH, I can’t believe I almost forgot to mention the historian on my fathers side since he used to torture us every year for Christmas as kids & now tours the country lecturing. I am the descendant of ancient Egyptians. We used to be the ones that would put our heads on the table whenever Uncle Walter would start with one of his lectures 🙂 My point is that I am comprised of a lot of things & to try to narrow it all down to one nationality much like a lot of the people in this country who have been here for several generations can leave a lot out. I feel a Rodney King moment coming on, can’t we all just get along….and be AMERICANS.
I don’t want to be African-American, Chinese-American, Irish/Scottish American or Native-American-American (say that fast 3 times), I simply want to be AMERICAN…..well not every day but some days, as long as we aren’t rioting, shooting & looting. On those days I just want to be invisible but I have yet to see that on any applications. I won’t let these people put me in a box. I am some confident, chocolatey goodness who donned a uniform and who stands her ground as a proud AMERICAN every single day regardless of where I am on this big blue marble, I never say I’m African-American, I say I’m chocolate & I was born in America because chocolate rocks…like me. 😉