The white - and Black - of it...

Even though I know that the country I live in has not created or even desired to create the society and culture promised to alledgedly all of us, that I want us all to thrive in; even though several times over the past 7 decades I’ve had the terribly strong urge to flee and seek out a better, more compatible community, I have been too committed to my responsibility as a privileged citizen to changing my country and too aware that wherever I go, no matter how hard I try not to, I bring the empire into that new, non-european country with me.

I have a grandson who wants to be a professional footballer and a daughter who is working her butt off to ensure that he is able to meet that goal as long as he wants to. And I am supporting both of them any way I can.

I am the white person in my family and we are all u.s.ofa. citizens traveling to the very recently liberated country of Nigeria in western Africa. For sure, I’m just more obviously white then the rest of my family, although my grandson, who is ¾’s Black is sometimes called white here, all things being relative...

I think about the guys that we hire to help Mujasi out while he’s here and we’re over 9000 miles away, especially the man who began as his mentor over two years ago but has grown into his foster dad, friend, and family. This man also accompanies me and/or my daughter when we come to visit and check in.

I am very aware that I am perceived and treated a little differently by the public when he accompanies me down the street and in and about the cities and towns. And I am concerned that he also is treated differently when seen with me as when by himself.

It’s a challenge – and it’s the ugly empire interfering all these many miles away. I’m sure he is perceived as having more privilege and access to money wealth then those who don’t have connections with u.s.ofa. people. And for most Nigerians who have not had access to traveling and studying outside the country, he does.

But we are not the kind of u.s.ofa. people who have inherited wealth nor come from a lot of money or have an abundance of money to spend above and beyond our needs and life-styles, but the kind who work hard for every cent we have as most people on the planet.

Although I’m profoundly appreciative he has chosen to work with and for us, I think about how much that must cost him, his connections with us, in his daily life and within his community and even family.

I know when I walk down the street, most if not all people here who are not already wealthy, see an opportunity to perhaps make some money or even gain a pathway to the amerikkkan nitemare. And I cannot fault them.

I also know that I too have and have had many privileges that most people here will never enjoy in their lifetimes simply because of where I was born and live and what I’ve been able to achieve, regardless of the barriers.

So there is always that tiny ugly possibility looming like thick smog when interacting with folks that someone might be nice to me, might be accepting and welcoming because as they see me, they see the great amerikkkan dollar and the potential of getting a piece. They don’t know that even though I come from the u.s.ofa. and I am white, I do not come from the kind of wealth they imagine.

I know how hard it is to make a dime, in this country and even in the u.s.ofa. so I accept this form of work: the work of asking someone who obviously has more money than them to share. It's not easy work to put yourself out there, take the risk of asking for what you need, and then being rejected.

Even so, it makes many 'uncomfortable' at best, 'resentful' also to be reminded so often of the privileges we have do to skin color and/or relationship to those who have immense privilege in the world.