Feature

The Measure of Blackness

Monday Sep 14, 2009 – By Nneoma Nwachuku

90038349 Despite protests from my family members and other Nigerians in my community, I consider myself first and foremost African American. Personally, it has taken quite some time for me to embrace this realization. I straddle between two different communities, that of Nigeria, which I fondly refer to as home and the land which I currently pen from, the United States. I am African American in the truest sense of the word – an African living in America. Yes, if we parse it down, I could very well label myself as Nigerian American, Igbo American…Ohuhu American (?). It can get unnecessarily specific. In light of this I still, towards the end of an online job application, proudly place my check next to “Black, African American.”

The African-American experience, I have come to find, is an incredibly diverse one. We include those whose ancestry stems from the trans-Atlantic slave trade, recent Haitian immigrants, black Londoners who now call the US their own.

Even those who find their roots strongly laid in the soils of long-forgotten Southern plantations are themselves brimming with a rich genetic diversity, featuring parentage from Caucasian, Native and other American sources. Though popular news sites and blogs continue to argue about whether to classify President Obama as black, white, or biracial, I still maintain that he is our nation’s first African American president. Heck, if word got out that Supreme Court Judge Sotomayor’s great-great-great-great-great grandmother may have been black, I’m claiming her too.

In light of our differences, I always thought that it would be a difficult task to pin any one cultural experience as that which defines our blackness. However, these days, I stand to be corrected. “…uknowurblackwhen…,” read the title of a recent article from a popular online black magazine. The article sought to explore the story behind a recent Twitter trend in which black twitterers would key the strokes #uknowurblackwhen followed by their perception of shared African American experiences. Being a moderately avid black twitterer myself, I was familiar with this trend before reading the article. Though my familiarity with this phenomenon was merely limited to the only “uknowurblack” tweet I received from a follower, who admitted we both failed to meet several of the standards posed by our fellow African American twitterers.

No, I don’t …drink Koolaid from the pickle jar (old butter tubs, yes).

Nor do I have in my possession…a busted car with a bangin’ sound system (both car and sound system are “busted,” thank you very much).

Later, upon checking out several of the “uknowurblack” tweets, I found I had more in common with those followed by the “uknowurnotblack” tags.

The quest to define what it means to be African American is not a recent phenomenon nor is the discussion limited to playground fights, casual tweets, and heated debates in the media. Many in the social sciences are aware of the African American Acculturation Scale (AAAS) which seeks to assess the extent to which an individual has adopted the culture, attitudes, and behaviors of blacks in America. The scale is based on eight parameters, which include items such as religion and superstitions, disposition towards race relations, and interestingly – “a preference for African American things.” While this scale could undoubtedly be highly predictive health outcomes, voting behaviors and the like, I contend that it is hardly reflective of the actual African American experience, which comprises of a melting pot of different groups and nationalities. The notion of a “traditional” African-American who represents all of us, is one I find problematic. The traditional African American person flies in the face of our everyday realities as a varied group of black females (and males) in the United States.

If there ever were to be a black version of the Statue of Liberty, I imagine that she would daily call out for the black, “huddled masses yearning to be free,” regardless of whether these masses hail from grassy New England suburbs, rural communities in North Carolina, or the cosmopolitan reaches of Lagos, Nigeria. “Send these…to me,” she cries. And she would take us – all of us – just as we are.

Kitty says:

September 14, 2009 at 2:24 am

I am a Afro Latina and I hear you on this. I look black but according to some online fun tests I’m not. Ha ha! I find it funny that blackness is something some folks think can be measured. I was raised in the suburbs of Pennsylvania and been around white and Latino folks most of my life.

We’re sisters/brothers no matter what color we are or what background we hail from. And heck we got some honorary brothers/sisters in the other ethnic communities, too. ;)

Great great article!

↑ Reply

Sammi Janelle says:

September 14, 2009 at 6:45 am

Great article. I was the minority in an all white city/town/school.
And it was like there were already standards – set by the white folk – that I had to somehow live by or compete with. I found it so unnecessary because it prevented people from getting to know just me.
Fun fact: it’s actually rumoured that the statue of liberty was in fact, black.

Jazz says:

September 15, 2009 at 2:38 am

I like this article and the idea behind it. It’s about time someone made the point that there are many different kinds of black people and that we should love each other and support each other regardless of our differences rather than using tests (based on stereotypes) to determine who is “really” black and who’s not.

Ms. Beans says:

September 15, 2009 at 1:11 pm

Thank you!!! This is what I have been saying all my life. We are not monolith!!! We are culturally diverse. I too come from a spanish-speaking background.

Sasha says:

September 15, 2009 at 6:47 pm

I have a Nigerian father and a black(by way of other mixings)mother. I was born here, BUT I consider myself Nigerian-American. It is funny because what I am depends on who I am around. When I am around other Africans and I claim my (Nigerianess), they look at me funny and say that I am NOT entirely Nigerian because I don’t ‘look it’ and I was not born there. But growing up, blacks would think I looked a bit exotic and thought I was a bit different because I was Nigerian.

I think people can be whatever they want. But I LOVE claiming my Nigerian ancestry because unlike other black Americans, I was lucky and blessed enough to KNOW where half my lineage lies. I don’t consider blacks, like my mother to be African American because there is evident mixing in their blood. I do consider then to be Black Americans. I dunno, but that’s just me.

Interesting article, though!

Joy says:

September 15, 2009 at 9:46 pm

Great article; I really enjoyed it.

I prefer to be called simply black; if you’re asking my nationality I’m American. But , we all know how preferences are – the only person who cares what you think is you. :)

re statute of liberty rumor: that sounds really interesting – someone should check it out!

anonygrl says:

September 16, 2009 at 2:27 am

@Sasha: I wonder how your mother would feel about the things you said. While I think it’s awesome you claim your Nigerian heritage, I think it important you remember that 1/2 of you is also “black american and doesn’t know where you came from.” :)

Joya says:

September 16, 2009 at 9:08 am

I’ve grown up in the deep south and got the ‘not black enough’ label from both sides. It never matters to me because I am going to be me. I am black because it’s my birth right…and NO ONE black or white can measure it or decide I don’t meet their asisine, limited standard.

The original statue of Liberty was indeed a black woman with broken chains at her wrists, designed by a french sculptor, but America government, at that time, thought it would be a slap in the face for white southerns. So, the white one was created. Little history lesson.

boom chakalaka says:

September 16, 2009 at 5:12 pm

Who acutally takes those tests seriously? I always took them for a joke.

September 16, 2009 at 6:05 pm

@ Anonygl, actually my mother knows alot on how I feel. I am half of her and it shows.lol! She has some idea on where some of her lineage lies, but unfortunately like most blacks, she doesn’t know entirely. It may not be pretty, but it is the truth.

Growing up I wasn’t black enough and as I have gotten older I have been happy just to be me.

RObleu says:

September 16, 2009 at 6:13 pm

I consider myself a Nigerian American and claim both sides of that hyphenated label with pride, although I recognize the limitations of both. My heritage is Nigerian but I am American by birth. My parents would love to believe that I am Nigerian with a capital N but they are constantly confronted with reality through myself and my siblings as well as the fact that they have been in the United States for over 30 years. “Home” exists mostly in their memories.

September 16, 2009 at 6:15 pm

I forgot to mention that I came to this conclusion by traveling outside of the United States and being asked where I came from and also reconsidering my answer after the laughter died down.

Nyota says:

September 17, 2009 at 1:15 am

I believe the notion of knowing and nitpicking exactly what one is is usually found only in the United States. We have this obsession to categorize people that stems from our unique history and culture.

@ Kitty it’s interesting you consider yourself Afro Latina but do you also consider yourself black? Just curious because I have Afro Latina friends who vehemently refuse to call themselves black or even to be referred to as black. They prefer to state their country for eg Panamaian…or Dominican.

edr says:

September 17, 2009 at 12:49 pm

I find this interesting considering that if you claim one side rather than other, it would seem like you are denying who you are.

Nana says:

September 17, 2009 at 8:42 pm

I love this article for at least making the point that the African American community is more diverse than what people assume. I myself see myself as American or African American first.My parents are from Ghana but I was born and raised here.I lived in Ghana for a few years growing up, and honestly it only made me realize early on that I wasn’t as Ghanaian as everyone else.Coming back here everyone always saw me as the “African”.Usually I tell people I identify as Ghanaian-American… when I think of home I think of DC and when I think of the closest people to me outside my family, they’re American,and the community I feel most connected to is definately the African American community.Nneoma touches on another issue too..Africans tend to have an issue with other Africans, especially their kids accepting their American identity,at least in my community.I have to really insist on my own identity in conversations with people or else they always assume I’m an international student,regardless of the fact that I’m from DC and don’t have the accent.

September 17, 2009 at 8:49 pm

Secondly I have one problem with this article.I don’t think being African-American should be defined as an African living in America.There are plenty of people who come to the USA for opportunities (work,school etc)only and don’t necessarily consider themselves American.And for those of us who were born here from African parents (Barack Obama included!), there is more to being American than simply living here.There’s a culture,an experience and a history that we knowingly and unknowingly are part of and participate in.

Nneoma Nwachuku says:

September 17, 2009 at 9:59 pm

@Kitty – LOL @honorary brothers and sisters – hey, the more the merrier. Seems odd that while blackness and otherness can be measured, that of more mainstream groups is not.

@Sammi – I was not aware of that rumor. Wouldn’t mind if it’s true because she’s gorgeous.

@Jazz – That’s key, the existence of many different types of black. Someone should have tweeted “#uknowurblackwhen any or none of these stereotypes apply to you”

@Ms. Beans – Yeay for my Hispanic African Americans representing. To start to discuss the incredible diversity that exists amongst Hispanic Americans – black or not – warrants its own essay…or book, for that matter.

@Sasha – Which part of Nigeria are you from? Anyway, continue claiming your Nigerian-ness. I was also born in the US to Nigerian parents and I am continually questioned about my authenticity (as either Nigerian or American) from both those in Nigeria and America. As for who is African American – as I pointed out in my article, I feel that those who claim some African descent – admixture or not – are under this wide umbrella we call African American.

@Joy – was watching an old episode of the Tyra Banks show, and even the classification of “black” is contentious – some say black, others say brown. Personally, I have no qualms about someone chooses to define themselves. My piece was more of opinion, rather than fact.

@anonygirl – I hear you’re point. Let’s be honest here, if someone asked me at this moment to trace my roots back to like 400 years ago, I couldn’t. I only know up to my great-grandparents, personally. One day, I could find out that my family migrated from another country or so. Who knows, maybe I could find out that in the not-so-distant past one of my relatives “mixed” with a colonialist in secret. Like I said African descent living in American = African American.

@Joya – Thanks for that lesson in history.

@Boom – At first glance these tweets seem ridiculous – but what we’re seeing out there is not far from what is taking place in academia.

@RObleu – Did you travel to Nigeria or elsewhere? If not Nigeria, continue going. Home may be but a memory, but there is so much going on there now. So much.

@Nyota – Quite possibly.

@Edr – Yep, claim them all – which is why I PROUDLY consider myself African and American.

@Nana – My dear, don’t even let me start with qualms Africans have with themselves and other black communities…don’t even let me start. But going to your second point, I have just find it strange how Africans who come to the US to live and work are reluctant to call themselves African American – especially if there are in possession of green cards or American citizenship. I can understand those who are recent immigrants – then yes, they are African immigrants. But if you’ve been here for like 15 years and your poor mother in the village can’t understand your Yankee accent, it’s time to hyphenate your identity, i.e. African American.

Jade says:

September 19, 2009 at 11:10 pm

Who cares? Be who you want to be. I am Nigerian as well, but I don’t care what you call me. Nigerian American, African American, black, don’t care. Life is too short to be fixed on labels. Be human first and foremost and help your fellow human at that!

Alex says:

September 19, 2009 at 11:43 pm

As someone who maternal grandmother had a Jewish maiden name, Native American blood and I was born with red hair (how that happened is beyond me) I just call myself a black American. My parents are black, and I was born and raised in the states. I sometimes like to use African-American because I like to capitalize it. (There’s just something about being a proper noun that I enjoy) lol. If I had the money I would love to get a test on my dna to see where my genes originate. I must admit I am kinda envious of people who know exactly where they come from and their lineage.