History of the African American - Essay Example

Autobiographical Essay I never thought I would ever see a day where an African-American would hold the highest office in a land that for centuries had enslaved and brutally tortured us. Truly, “this land which we have watered with our tears and our blood is now our mother country" (Allen, 1827 cited in Henretta, 1997, par. 11). My father was an African of royal origin, but just like my mother, had been kidnapped and become an indentured servant in America, at a time when European explorers saw the profitability of a trans-Atlantic slave trade that had brought millions of Africans to America – a former British colony (The Terrible Transformation, 1998, p. 1). Working side by side in a large farm in Virginia, my father and mother caught each other’s attention, both admiring each other’s optimism and courage, until they found their selves in each other’s arms falling in love, giving additional meaning and purpose to their living, furthering their hope to regain their freedom, until the good heavens had graced them with the most beautiful dark-skinned child ever born – that was me. My parents had never become free again, as slavery had become an integral part of the colony (Horton & Horton, 1998, p. ix) providing labor necessary for farming and tobacco cultivation. It was during this time that “tobacco rivaled the sugar production of the British West Indies” (Introduction to Colonial African American Life, 2010, p. 1). And so I grew up in this land doing hard labor at an early age, witnessing the tortures and murders against Blacks, without any perpetrator being punished. Because contrary to common belief, "African Americans in Texas confronted a racial environment as rigid as that in other parts of the Deep South” (Dulaney, 1993, p. 67). I envied the Whites of my age with their nice suites, cars, and most of all, their freedom to play. If that was what childhood all about I could say then was, I never had the opportunity to become a child, as I had work to death just like my parents. My lamentations were exactly expressed by George Moses Horton in his poem “On Liberty and Slavery.” Alas! and am I born for this. To wear this slavish chain? Deprived of all created bliss, Through hardship, toil and pain! How long have I in bondage lain, And languished to be free! Alas! and must I still complain -- Deprived of liberty. Oh, Heaven! and is there no relief This side the silent grave- To soothe the pain- to quell the grief  And anguish of a slave? (2001, p. 1) Yet now, at the age of 41, I knew the heavens had prepared me for something more wonderful, for something that would make me be remembered, admired and loved, not only by the Blacks, but even by the Whites. As I grew up, my parents instilled into every fiber of my being that Africans are free people robbed of their civilization by the Whites who needed to violate others to further their interest and whose basis of morality laid on color and not deeds; that I should raise a family not of slaves but of freemen; that I should not be intimidated by the Whites or their churches which interpreted the Bible to something most useful and most convenient to them; that I should not forget my origin; and most of all, that I should always stand for truth. And so I grew up believing not the teachings of any denominational churches but a non-denominational religion. I knew I possessed skills that would make me a great soldier, as my father at my early age had taught me hunting skills, as the hard labors I came to master in the farm had made me very strong, as my parents admonitions made me wiser, as the burning desire in me to be free kept me courageous. And so I joined the militia, because during that time, “for people of color, military service was another avenue to freedom” (Everette, 1966, cited in Holland & Greene, p. 107-108). There in the battlefield, I made my name as I fought courageously together with other African American soldiers. The whites envied our skillfulness yet hated us for our color. But, one White officer without hiding his admiration on us commented: “You have no idea how my prejudices with regard to Negro troops have been dispelled by the battle the other day. The brigade behaved magnificently and fought splendidly” (McPherson 1965; Quarles 1953; Cornish 1966, cited in Williams III & Farrar, 2005, p. 272). So they needed us. They cannot win the war without us. In the war, we had proven to ourselves and to these that we are better than them. Without them knowing it, the war did not simply freed America from British colonization, but it had also freed us, Blacks, from our inferiority, and most of all from the thought that we could beat these arrogant Whites to bring back Black freedom (Nash, 1990, p. 57). This thought had even inspired us in the war. This thought had further brought Blacks closer, united in one single aspiration – freedom. Winning the war, I went home with pride. Knowing that I was prepared to build my own family, I began scouting among Black women feeling my heart to which it would fall in love with. But my heart cheated me, because I fell-in love with the daughter of a White distinguished family in Texas. It was frightening, but the emotion was so intense; I could not forgo it. Silently, I expressed my love to her and I felt she also did like me. She was beautiful. She had White suitors, but I did not falter. And it happened… we fell in love and she got pregnant of my son. We knew society would not permit it, but it didn’t matter. What matters was our love – the love that defied color… that was genuine. And in the corners of those who genuinely love, they admired us; helped us; supported us. It was a long tortuous yet fulfilling journey. And our love won. She bore me two sons: my eldest, now an officer of the US Army, and my youngest, a peace volunteer of the United Nations in Africa. Yes, it is true, “this land which we have watered with our tears and our blood is now our mother country" (Allen, 1827 cited in Henretta, 1997, par. 11). References Dulaney, Marvin W. (1993). “Whatever Happened to the Civil Rights Movement in Dallas, Texas?” In John Dittmer, George C. Wright, W. Marvin Dulaney, and Kathleen Underwood (Eds.) Essays on the American Civil Rights Movement. Texas A&M University Press: College Station, TX. Henretta, James. (1997). “Richard Allen and African-American Identity.” Early American Review. Spring. Retrieved from http://www.earlyamerica.com/review/spring97/allen.html. Holland, Antonio F. and Greene, Debra F. (2005). “Not Chattel, Not Free: Quasi-Free Blacks in the Colonial Era.” In Alton Hornsby, Jr. (Ed.) A Companion to African American History. Blackwell Publishing: US. Horton, James Oliver, and Horton, Lois E. (1998). In Hope of Liberty: Culture, Community, and Protest among Northern Free Blacks, 1700-1860. Oxford University Press: New York. Horton, George Moses. (2001). “On Liberty and slavery.” Poets’ Corner. Retrieved from http://theotherpages.org/poems/2001/horton0101.html. “Introduction to Colonial African American Life.” (2010). African American Experience. Colonial Williamsburg. The Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. Retrieved from http://www.history.org/almanack/people/african/aaintro.cfm. Nash, Gary. (1990). Rage and Revolution. Madison House Publishers: Lanham, Maryland. ISBN 0-945612-21-4 (pbk). Retrieved from http://books.google.com/books?id=S0PNOtNgSBcC&printsec=frontcover&dq=Race+and+Revolution&as_brr=3&cd=1#v=onepage&q=&f=true. “The Terrible Transformation.” (1998). The Africans in America. WGBH Interactive. PBS Online. Retrieved from http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part1/narrative.html. Williams III, Oscar R. and Farrar, Hayward. (2005). “African Americans and the American Civil War.” In Alton Hornsby, Jr. (Ed.) A Companion to African American History. Blackwell Publishing: US. Read More