One infamous checkbox on applications asks, “Please select your race,” intending to categorize diverse identities. For me, that box is African American/Black—an identity I’ve always found challenging to articulate. I’ve often thought, “Why do I need that specification?” An extra label and a title that I had yet to grasp the full meaning of.
Growing up, I had little understanding of what this label meant. In middle school, we were assigned to bring a dish from our heritage. A Nigerian classmate brought jollof rice, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. Here was someone who could identify with their African and American identity, proudly sharing a dish that connected them to their ancestral roots—something I often felt was lost to me, as my ties to Africa seemed severed centuries ago. It's funny how a project intended to appreciate and recognize the diverse cultures that represented our school made me feel overlooked. It pains me to admit that during that time I thought I had no cultural identity. I chose to bring mac and cheese, feeling it wasn’t specific enough to define my culture. In my fascination with other cultures, I overlooked the presence of my own—an identity rooted in a community that fought for citizenship rights in the country they were born in and faced displacement and discrimination.
I realized too late that the history of African Americans presented in my earlier education was filled with gaps. It wasn’t until I took the first AP African American Studies course being offered at my high school that I began to embrace and learn about my culture. I hadn’t considered how history shaped who I am and the privileges I enjoy today—like attending a diverse school, a privilege earned by those who came before me.
Though it may sound silly, I truly can resonate with the popular saying Kamala Harris’s mother would tell her, “You think you just fell out of a coconut tree? You exist in the context of all in which you live and what came before you.” A few years ago, I would have laughed; this statement would have flown right over my head. To understand this saying, one must first understand the context. Not until the end of my junior year did I truly grasp this. By taking AP African American Studies, I found the significance of taking pride in my culture.
During this course we learned about the countless contributions from African Amerians that shaped the America we live in today. From the early Civilizations of Ancient Africa to the Civil Right Movement this course broadened by understanding of African American Studies. I find it disheartening that a course that has been so meaningful to me is currently banned in a few states. The impact this course had on me transcends from what words can describe. I realized that African American studies is U.S history and its presence in the education system is often overlooked, oversimplified, and underrepresented.
I appreciated my teacher, Mrs. Lennon, who invited discomfort and didn’t lessen the full picture of African American history. She created a safe learning environment and emphasized the FAM in the acronym she created for the course, APAFAM (AP African American Studies), to create a family community within the classroom. The history of my ancestors was taught with every detail, helping me understand why I’m here today and the box I’m proud to check.
Understanding my cultural identity has also shaped my personal aspirations. It has fueled my desire to further my education at a Historically Black college or University and has inspired me to celebrate my heritage unapologetically and encourage others to do the same. The feelings I had during middle school have now transformed into a sense of unapologetic pride for my culture. I now see that African American culture is not defined by a single dish. It is a multitude of experiences, struggles, and triumphs that have shaped not only my understanding and the foundation of this nation.
As I reflect on my middle school cultural project, I realize that I do have a culture—one special in its own right. Although I may not pinpoint my ancestral origins to a specific African country, my identity is shaped by a broad spectrum influenced by American history and the countless individuals who fought for the liberties I enjoy today. Now, whenever I check a box asking for my race, I recognize that my identity transcends those confines. It reaches beyond the boundaries of the box, embracing a rich community that defines who I am today.
No comments:
Post a Comment