Afrodescendant

I saw this guy in Harlem yesterday.

A complete ancient Egyptian genome has been successfully sequenced for the first time. Researchers sequenced the DNA of a man who lived approximately 4,800 years ago, during the Old Kingdom period when the earliest pyramids were constructed. This groundbreaking discovery offers new insights into the genetic history of ancient Egypt and reveals intriguing connections to Mesopotamia.

But, I’m telling you, I saw this guy yesterday talking to a fellow in a red, black and green dashiki in front of the Apollo Theater. He was wearing a Black Panther button. I think that’s why I noticed and remembered him.

So, the diaspora goes back 5,000 years to the pyramids and the glory that was ancient Egypt and exists today in Harlem and in us.

It’s okay if most Egyptians want to embrace the 20% of their middle eastern heritage rather than the 80% African ancestry. It’s okay if they’re olive or honey colored but Africa is African. It’s their birthplace and birthright.

Black Pharaohs were the Nubian rulers of the 25th Dynasty of Egypt, also known as the Kushite Dynasty. These pharaohs, originating from the Kingdom of Kush (located in present-day Sudan), conquered and unified Egypt in the 8th century BCE, establishing a period of Nubian rule that lasted for about a century. They are remembered for restoring ancient Egyptian traditions, building impressive monuments, and leaving a lasting legacy.

I confess, I’ve was confused about who and what I was. I wanted to believe I was descended from African kings and queens. As a kid, I had posters on my wall of Shaka Zulu and Hannibal, distributed by Ebony magazine, payed for by some beer company. What we wanted most was integration. It seemed a panacea for Jim Crow. How could they discriminate if we were sitting next to them at lunch counters? Surely, the ham sliced for sandwiches didn’t have a white side and a negro side. We would be equal then.

We wanted so badly to be included. We talked about black kids going to white schools. We talked about integration. We wanted to go to their schools even if school buses were tanks and teachers were national guardsmen. We watched other kids play and wanted to be part of the game. We worshipped Ruby Bridges but none of us really wanted to be her. All that seems so long ago.

No matter how many kids were bussed, some things never changed. Northern Jim Crow became the norm. In the north, people smiled a bit more but housing redlining was the same. Schools in minority neighborhoods are still underfunded. Unemployment rates in communities of color are twice the national average. We are still being murdered, albeit, by the police, instead of vigilante mobs, but dead is dead: murder is murder and we are still a long way from equal justice.

When we take a knee in protest, they say we are interfering with their worship of football. When we ask for equal employment, they say we are taking their jobs. When we ask to live and for fair and equal treatment under the law, they say they are not our laws. The laws were written by their forefathers for them. We were considered and marginalized so why should we be included now?

Because there is a price for freedom and peace and discrimination, violence and murder is the wrong currency. We need to pay with sharing and understanding. All lives matter, but right now, in this time, Black lives continue to be taken and destroyed for continued dominance and privilege.

Morning Coffee