Evaluating whether “black people” know who they are; I don’t think this is a stigma related significantly to one particular race or person in general. Throughout our lives we endeavor to find the true meaning of who we are in order to define and develop a systematic routine of self sufficiency in which to organize our lives between what is real and what is believed to be true. For those who have awareness of their heritage from generation to generation and can reach back to link themselves to a certain place and time, thereby, pinpointing who they are…evaluating yourself isn’t complicated.

Doubt and uncertainty creates an enigma that settles in place and stares you in the face without giving you a clue. I think for black people, finding a sound and definitive explaination which can connect to cultural roots that bind to a specific tribe of lineage, presents a barrier that spans beyond the Atlantic ocean, onto the shores of ancient bloody sands tracked with the weary shackled feet of those cruelly captured, bound and beaten souls, who walked a trail of fears mounted upon screaming hearts, wailing a death cry, while perishing with every inch that separated them from their homeland.

How do you evaluate bondage? it gives you nothing to build on, slavery was a low level import and export of valuable people, deemed invaluable. I can evaluate the lives of those who fought, struggled and died in their efforts to resist taking one step into the mouth of a sailing prison, where they were packed together like sardines in a can. I can evaluate their courage, fortitude and strength to survive horrible conditions. I can evaluate the heartache and pain piercing the spirit of their lives as they lay helplessly with death looming in smothered and cramped confinement.

I evaluate these atrocities as the beginning structure to literally strip a people of their identity, their name, culture, language, self worth, dignity and livelihood. A people were left without a land to claim as their own, they were homeless and abandoned in a strange world. I evaluate this era as a time of my spiritual ancestors, the ones who bridged the gap across a mighty ocean to guide us along the path of the past, from where they were carried away. I evaluate the souls of those thrown into choppy waters as the unsung heroes who first gave their lives for the cause of freedom’s plight, as warriors of the sea.

From the shores of stolen freedom to shores of stolen identity. Until this very day freedom is swiftly snatched away without justice being equally served, I evaluate this offense as a rite of passage for unfairness. I also evaluate those who knowingly put themselves in a situation to be bond in confinement reminiscent to our ancestors, as treason against oneself. As for the shores of stolen identity, although it suppressed the mindset of a people, it never ruled over the kingdom of their thoughts, and the tenacity of their resolve “to be. ” I evaluate this as a crucial stepping stone and courageous marker of fortitude in the mist of complete unrest, I consider it a tribal trait passed on to ensure the betterment of a people.

Countless years have documented the trials and adversities targeted against a people, many heroes and heroines have stood their ground and paved a legacy of highways, byways and roads to help future generations achieve success with as little ostacles as possibles. The hands of freedom’s struggle has grasped hands with freedom’s quest in a united effort to hold tight onto the reigns built with the force of their dedication, they loosen their grip only for a people to shake hands with opportunity. I evaluate this as a sacred gift, bestowed upon each generation, it’s the voice in the wind, echoeing from the past, flowing into the present, until resounding into the future… stay alive and survive!

As a black person, I know the birth of my heritage lies in Africa, it strived from free people long before it’s children were stolen from the comforting arms of a nurtuing mother….the land. An invisible shield of not knowing the full truth of who I am waves as deep as the waters and extends as lengthy as the years that separate me and my true heritage. Because of this great void and limited knowledge to my roots, I must fashion myself from the extraordinary feats, stories, traditions, and sorrows of those who left a living will of their testimonies, signed with bloods, sweat and tears. The images they evoke, tell me that I came from very good stock.

Today black people shoud evaluate themselves according to the highest position that can be held in this country, President. I hope we’ll change and make a difference, because now more than ever, yes we can. I hope that we as a people know that we’re not the sum of stereotypes, and that the greater mass of our people are unfairly depicted by the negative behavior of the few. I know who I really am beyond the color of my skin….I am a child of God.