On first sight, most people think that I am a Black American, but my background is somewhat different. (I use the term Black American and African-American interchangeably) I was born in Nigeria and raised in the UK, until I was 12. I then moved back to Nigeria and came to America when I was 21. I speak Yoruba, one of the 300 indigenous languages in Nigeria. I came over on a student visa and spent more than a decade navigating the tortuous and byzantine American immigration system to eventually become a permanent resident. Actually there are quite a lot of Nigerians here. Figures from a 2006 American Community Survey state there are an estimated 260,000 Nigerians in the United States. And according to the 2006 Census, Nigerians have the highest college degree attainment among all immigrants. Yes, even higher than Asians.
I have lived in America for more than 20 years and consider myself a Black American/African-American. I have a green card now and I am working on getting my citizenship, so I can vote. When I came to America, I wanted to align myself with black people. I ate their food, socialized with them, learned their history and joined their political organizations, such as NAACP and the National Association of Black Journalists. I speak and understand Ebonics or African American Vernacular English. When I was in college, I was even asked to pledge a black fraternity. I have written extensively about black issues such as discrimination, racial profiling, police brutality, etc.
Having said that, it bothers me that some Black Americans will never accept me as one of them. I went to school in Oklahoma back in the 1990s, and at the time, most of the younger black students wanted nothing to do with Africans, which is highly ironic because they had an area of the student’s union called Little Africa. For a long time I refused to use the term African-American, but I realized that Black Americans are descended from Africans, so they have just as much right to claim that term as I do. And people like former Republican presidential candidate Herman Cain can deny it all he wants, but it’s part of his heritage.
I have even had people say that I am not “black,” which is just plain insulting. The term “black” describes people of African descent, whether they are from Africa, Europe, Latin America, North America or Asia. When Barack Obama announced he was running for president, I accurately predicted some segments of the black community wouldn’t accept him, because his father was Kenyan. I could never understand this, because Colin Powell’s parents are Jamaican, and no one ever questioned his blackness. There are some black people who claim that America has yet to see its first black president, because Obama is only half black and not descended from slaves.
From studying American history, I have heard stories of Native American tribes who would capture white women and take in runaway slaves. After a period of time, these outsiders would come to be accepted as one of the tribe. (In some cases, rescued white women would runway and return to the tribe.) Black Americans are a tribe, they have their own customs, language and food. So haven’t I done enough to be accepted as part of the tribe? My struggles are your struggles. When a police officer sees me, he is not going to question if I was born in America when he pulls me over.
But maybe, I should just let it go. Since I wasn’t born and raised in America, maybe I will never truly understand the Black American experience. I can understand it intellectually, but perhaps I can never truly understand where that bitterness and anger comes from. Several years ago, I was hanging out with a black friend in Vegas and he patiently explained that to me and I finally understood what he was talking about. There are some groups that will never accept you unless you are born into them.
I have a white friend who has two children by a black man. She used to live in a black neighborhood, listens to R&B and hip hop, and most of her friends are black. She said that for a long time, she insisted that she was black, but now realizes that she is not and will never be fully seen as part of the black community.
She says I should just accept that I will never be totally accepted as a Black American, because my cultural experience is different. And she has a point, I speak with a British accent, watch European soccer, and am well versed in the history of Europe and Africa. A lot of Black Americans are not going to identify with those traits. So, maybe I should learn to accept that I am a British-Nigerian-American and not a Black American. Being unique is also good too!
