When I was growing up in Baltimore City as a child, I always dreamed of moving to Paris, France. Now as I reflect back on my childhood through the lens of the bigotry of 2015, I finally understand why. My last name is French. I always thought that my interest in France was solely due to the etymology of my surname. So in high school I took up French as my foreign language and put a great deal of energy into learning the language. Upon growing up and having the opportunity to visit Paris, I did not feel the affinity for it I had for the preceding years.
Paris was beautiful! I enjoyed every bit of my trip there; even the jet lag. I gawked at historical landmarks, ate aux Patisseries and stumbled through speaking clunky French. It was a dream finally coming true. Yet, there was something missing. Now, as I think back almost 10 years, I know what I was searching for in France. I was searching for freedom. However, not consciously acknowledging this pursuit, I left Paris no longer desiring to live my life there.
Just today on July 4, 2015 I realized that in Paris I saw freedom. As I learned about the greats throughout Black History in my public school education, I also learned how persecuted and terrorized people who looked like me were, and continue to be, in the United States of America. Over and over again I heard of Paris. Paris was the place where Blacks could go and be free. Free from persecution. Free from racism. Free from terror attacks from our white counterparts. It seemed to me that the pioneers, such as Josephine Baker and Nina Simone, were fleeing to Paris to be allowed to flourish and not simply survive. I wanted that too.
This is not to say that my life was filled with incidences of racism or clashes with bigots. However, as I read those history books and wrote those school reports, I understood that many in the United States don't wish for there to be a place for Blacks in this country. Paris seemed welcoming and I was ready to be welcomed.
Now, as I sit in silence in my apartment in 2015 on the national holiday to celebrate American independence, I feel unwanted. Unwanted by a majority that has become so powerful, that it doesn't always realize it's own strength in the destruction of people of color in this country. So unwanted that I fear for my life when I walk the streets of my own country, because both the law enforcement and the KKK are relentlessly seeking to eradicate my people like so many unfeeling vermin.
Today, I seek freedom in the country in which I was born. I will not do as so many have before and flee. I will stay and fight "by any means necessary", in the words of Malcolm X, for the freedom I and all people of color are owed. I am an American. I will take my freedom.
Paris was beautiful! I enjoyed every bit of my trip there; even the jet lag. I gawked at historical landmarks, ate aux Patisseries and stumbled through speaking clunky French. It was a dream finally coming true. Yet, there was something missing. Now, as I think back almost 10 years, I know what I was searching for in France. I was searching for freedom. However, not consciously acknowledging this pursuit, I left Paris no longer desiring to live my life there.
Just today on July 4, 2015 I realized that in Paris I saw freedom. As I learned about the greats throughout Black History in my public school education, I also learned how persecuted and terrorized people who looked like me were, and continue to be, in the United States of America. Over and over again I heard of Paris. Paris was the place where Blacks could go and be free. Free from persecution. Free from racism. Free from terror attacks from our white counterparts. It seemed to me that the pioneers, such as Josephine Baker and Nina Simone, were fleeing to Paris to be allowed to flourish and not simply survive. I wanted that too.
This is not to say that my life was filled with incidences of racism or clashes with bigots. However, as I read those history books and wrote those school reports, I understood that many in the United States don't wish for there to be a place for Blacks in this country. Paris seemed welcoming and I was ready to be welcomed.
Now, as I sit in silence in my apartment in 2015 on the national holiday to celebrate American independence, I feel unwanted. Unwanted by a majority that has become so powerful, that it doesn't always realize it's own strength in the destruction of people of color in this country. So unwanted that I fear for my life when I walk the streets of my own country, because both the law enforcement and the KKK are relentlessly seeking to eradicate my people like so many unfeeling vermin.
Today, I seek freedom in the country in which I was born. I will not do as so many have before and flee. I will stay and fight "by any means necessary", in the words of Malcolm X, for the freedom I and all people of color are owed. I am an American. I will take my freedom.