As a child, I hated Black History Month. I never thought it added value to my life. After all, what I mainly saw on TV were images of African ancestors being whipped and chained. They were subjected to inhumane conditions. Who would want to see that? Not only did it make me sad, but there was also no escape. No cartoons to watch, just pain and torture.
Granted, these movies showed us a semblance of what history looked like. I do not believe that movie producers were wrong in creating these bodies of work. However, little did we know that these images and narratives shaped us into who we are today. No matter where we are from in the world, all of us have been impacted. We have been “whitewashed”. Dear caucaisian friends, this term is not a sign of disrespect, and by no means intended to offend you. It is a term that is used among all sorts of circles.
Say what you want about the Black Lives Matter marches. When George Floyd was killed May 25, 2020, it dawned on me that there were disparities between what I was taught (directly and indirectly), and what is true. My father shared a gem with me as a little girl. He told me that if the lion ate the deer, history would be written from the perspective of the lion. He is right. Who would speak on the deer’s behalf? I see it more clearly now. In the case of George Floyd I saw scores of persons from all over the world stand in solidarity with each other amid the terrible occurrences of the United States of America. Statues of high society men back in the day – slave traders and apartheid leaders – were brought down. I was not even aware of how broadly racism and colourism affected persons in other countries. I get why they did it.
This narrative has forced persons to view each other and ourselves differently. It is perpetuated on our television screens. It is heard on the radio. Magazines and books show it. Even social media. If you constantly bombard someone’s mind with negative images of himself / herself, at some point, it becomes believable and a lifestyle. He / She might not even realize. Here is where (primarily) western media plays a role in demonizing our (black and Caribbean) culture.
If we are honest with ourselves, the “censorship” of black culture has forced us into the darkness of ignorance. We don’t know much about ourselves at all. Many of our books on slavery have been written from the perspective of the oppressor. Therefore, there are a few gaps in the stories told. Case in point, at age 12, I was told explorer Christopher Colombus discovered Jamaica in 1494. Before he got here, he and his colleagues saw that the country was inhabited with folks called Arawaks / Tainos. I thought to myself at that time, how could he be credited with the discovery of the country when people were here? The history books got it dead wrong. The writers favoured their own hero, not the truth.
Our values are messed up. There are many beautiful black men and women who think little of themselves because of what is deemed as the standard for beauty. Kinky hair is deemed as unkempt. If my hair naturally grows out of my head as “messy”, it’s best to straighten it because it is more pleasing to society. It is more acceptable, less ugly.
Black skin also takes a serious hit. The world knows that black is not seen as beautiful by the general populace. Many of my peers share the stories of how their parents would take jabs at their skin tones as a method of discipline. For example: “Yuh black and ugly like.” (Translation: You are black and ugly). I always find it odd how beggars seem to ask my light skinned father for money and no request is made of my darker skinned mother. I have a theory about this. I believe this happens because we have somehow associated lighter skinned people with riches and prestige. Black people are associated with the poorer classes. After all, that is what we normally see on TV. African countries are viewed as subhuman. Media paints the picture that children are starving and families have to journey long distances to get food for their households. This is not always the case.
Even the clothes we wear have become problematic. What has been passed down to us in the Caribbean is a European and American style of dressing. This is normal. Folks clad in African garb would be seen as weirdos and possibly associated with the occult. Again, this is what we see in the media. One of my biggest peeves growing up was being told to speak properly when I shared Jamaican patois. This was my language. It is my language. What seems to be the problem here? I never understood it.
The pushback we receive about our culture is as a result of a perceived notion that we are inferior. Our culture is not seen as the standard and therefore not sufficiently appreciated. It has become ingrained in us since the days of slavery. Didn’t Jesus die for all of us, making us worthy? We are never inferior. We are equals. Growing older made me wiser and more reflective. I understand now why Louise Bennett-Coverly championed the cause of embracing the Jamaican creole. Now I understand why people scream representation is important. I could hardly relate to the characters on screen. Now I understand why things are the way they are, and there is a need for change.
Maybe it is our chance not to rewrite history, but change our narrative and hence our perspectives. We should speak of Christopher Colombus and what he actually did when he “discovered” the western world. We should highlight what black folks have done outside of our fight with slavery and hardship. We also have to be careful what we feed our minds on. History books and television screens do not always get it right. We need to view ourselves highly, but not think of others as inferior. We have much to celebrate about our culture. It is a gift.
Photo by Ajala Kings (IG: @ajalakings)