Greetings, (1) billion-plus members
of the African World Family.
By the time many of you read this, brothers and
sisters, I, hopefully, will have made a successful, safe and sound
landing in none other than the place that serves first and foremost
as both the birthplace of humanity and human civilization and
as the world’s richest continent—Africa. Of course, I wholeheartedly
solicit your heart-felt positive prayers in that endeavor, my
travels while there, and my safe and sound return back here to
the States.
This will be my first trip to the Motherland.
In short, it is a long-time dream of mine coming true. Hopefully,
it will not be my last but the first of many. With open arms,
an open mind, and an open heart and soul, I welcome any and all
of the countless life lessons that I will learn from the infinite
sights and sounds and people - young and old, most especially
the Elders - our people, African people, who I will encounter
and meet and greet during my short stay there.
To me, the time for such a trip is right. It’s
right to make what I define as a godly journey, a sacred sojourn,
and a positive pilgrimage to where time, life, and love all began.
Why, you may ask. Here’s my answer. The time
is right, I truly believe, for me to travel to Africa not only
because Ghana, West Africa (my destination) is joyously, vibrantly,
and historically celebrating its 50th Anniversary of independence
from British colonial rule but also because it seems as if all
my life Africa has softly, sweetly, and lovingly beaconed me to
“Come home. Come home. Come back home to Africa.” Now, it is
time for me to answer the beacon and to do so in the affirmative
physically as I mostly always have in my life spiritually and
mentally. Due to what I consider my sacred choice in the positive
to finance, though not without financial sacrifice, and to make
the trip with the full blessings of family and friends alike,
my heart swells and my soul smiles fully.
For longer than I can remember, I have felt exactly
like the wise words expressed by the legendary African American
freedom fighter Paul Leroy Robeson. As an aside, nearly a decade
ago, I had the distinct pleasure and honor of conceptualizing
and solo-performing vocally in a (20)-plus song concert in his
honor at the historic 16th Baptist Church (scene of the 1963 anti-black,
terrorist church bombing). That pleasure and honor were both
deepened and widened by my later meeting and singing in the presence
of Mr. Robeson’s son, Paul, Jr., who publicly stated that he was
well-pleased with my performance of a select few of his father’s
most-memorable musical selections, especially “Ol’ Man River”.
Historically, Robeson turned “Ol’ Man River”, once
a very racist song, into a powerful, soul-stirring freedom fighting
one by slightly changing the words. Yet it was the words that
he wrote in 1934 that have stuck with me since the 1980s, if not
before. In an essay that he wrote for a publication entitled
What I Want From Life, this man, Paul Robeson - a late
but great all-star athlete and one of the first Blacks to play
in professional football, a Phi Beta Kappa member of and the valedictorian
for his graduating class at Rutgers College (now a university),
a graduate of Columbia Law School and short-lived practicing lawyer,
a man who was (and still is) to many an international star of
the theatrical stage and the silver screen, the concert hall and
the recording studio; a man who was a multi-linguist who spoke
over (25) different languages and a multi-genius, not to mention
a globetrotting scholar-activist, and, in my humble opinion, the
real Superman—penned these provocative, powerful, and timely
words:
At present
the younger generation of Negroes in America
look towards Africa and ask “What
is there to
interest me? What of value has
Africa to offer that the
Western world cannot give me?
Robeson continues by answering those questions
as follows:
At first glace the
question seems unanswerable. He sees
only the savagery, devil-worship,
witch-doctors, voo-doo,
ignorance, squalor, and darkness
taught in American
schools. [HAWK note: Sound
familiar?]
Robeson goes further.
Where there exist,
he is looking at the broken remnants
of what was in its day a mighty
thing; something which
perhaps has not been destroyed,
but only driven
underground, leaving ugly
scars upon the earth’s
surface to mark the place
of its ultimate reappearance.
Very well-versed in African history and the history
of African people worldwide even in the 1930s and an unstoppable
diehard fighter for the liberation of African people the world
over, Robeson ended his still-timely essay with these profound
words well-worth reading, reciting, and emulating by all the world’s
African people. He wrote:
Meanwhile in my music, my plays, my films I
want to
carry always this central idea:
to be African.
Multitudes of men have died for less
worthy ideals; it is
even more eminently worth living
for.
Brothers and Sisters, without a doubt, those are
my sentiments exactly. In fact, I couple them with the poignant
words that Robeson penned the following year, in 1935. Unlike
the previously cited 1934 essay, which was entitled I Want
to Be African, this essay, published in London, England like
the previous one, was entitled Negroes—Don’t Ape the Whites.
In it, he wrote these profound words: “It is not as imitation
Europeans, but as Africans, that we have value.” As the Elders
would say, “Well-said”. As I said about the previous essay, my
sentiments exactly.
As an aside, for those who are truly interested
in finding out more about Paul Robeson, a.k.a. “Robeson of Rutgers”,
check out the internet for videocassette and dvd versions of his
many movies, most especially my favorite Jericho, where
Robeson plays a very heroic character (Jericho Jackson) who has
to flee for his life to - guess where - Africa. A PBS documentary
was done about him, and much-noted and highly respected television
journalist Gil Noble did a well-done one on Robeson many years
before.
Reading materials abound about Robeson. The first
and only time that I met his son was when he was traveling around
the country promoting his well-down biography about his dad—The
Undiscovered Paul Robeson: An Artist’s Journey—1898-1939,
volume (1) of a proposed two-volume book. Regrettably, the completion
of Volume II seems to have stalled. Anyone knowing of plans
to complete it or its actual completion or a way to contact Paul
Robeson, Jr., please contact and kindly supply me with
that information. Thank you.
Then there are other noteworthy books about Robeson.
They include his must-read autobiography Here I Stand,
the FreedomWays Editors’ (including Dr. John Henrik Clarke) powerful
collection of essays on Robeson entitled Paul Robeson: The
Great Forerunner, and the white historian Philip S. Fonor
- edited, thick collection of Robeson’s own words Paul Robeson
Speaks. Robeson’s long-time friend Lloyd L. Brown authored
a note-worthy bio about Robeson’s early years - The Young Paul
Robeson: On My Journey Now, and his granddaughter, Susan
Robeson, who bears a striking resemblance to Robeson’s brilliant
wife and manager, scientist Eslanda Goode Robeson wrote a hard-to-find
but must-have book about her internationally - known and equally
heralded grandfather. Eye-opening and insightful, it is a pictorial
biography of Robeson entire life entitled The Whole World in
His Hands.
I certainly would be greatly saddened if I failed
to mention the countless CDs, once albums, record Robeson’s ever-resonating
bass/baritone voice. Most of them focus on his singing around
the world in different languages—from English to Spanish to German
and from Russian to Chinese –and different genres - from Negro
Spirituals to European and Asian anthems and folk songs, even
singing the controversial pro-union song about a state-executed
union hero “Joe Hill” many decades before it was sung by Joan.
CDs even exist where Robeson is being interviewed after the State
Department stripped him of his passport for nearly (8) years in
an unbridled but also unsuccessful attempt to silence his thunderous
cry for peace, justice, and equality for all of the world’s oppressed
people, most especially his own.
I truly hope, brothers and sisters, that this is
not information overload. That was certainly not my intention.
But as I diligently prepare to set foot on Africa, I find that
this trip, this labor of love, if you will, in the words of the
musical genius Jackie Wilson, “just keeps on lifting me, higher
and higher and higher.” And, of course, I just love to talk about
our real African heroes and not the European-chosen ones, whose
backbone is a wishbone.
So why am I so excited about my trip? I am because
when I set foot on Africa, to slightly paraphrase such brilliant
African scholar-activists and Pan-Africanists as Dr. W. E. B.
Du Bois (who lived out his last days and is buried there) and
Dr. Yosef Ben-Jochannan, I will set foot on holy ground,
the real Holy Land, where virtually all of the basic
elements for virtually all of the world’s so-called major religions
began and/or gained new life.
With those thoughts and others, each tick of the
clock draws me closer and closer to our ancestral homeland. And
I am well pleased and feel truly blessed. I also feel the much-needed
pinch of reality, which balances my thoughts and keeps me from
over-romanticizing Africa. In short, I fully realize, as I teach
my students, that “Wherever people are, problems are” and that
no person is and no people are perfect. We all have faults and
so do all places, even if Africa’s have been compounded by outsiders
with more coming to rape its land of its precious and abundant
natural resources, the people of their humanity, and culture of
its vitality for both fame and fortune. Think China and Japan.
And would it be too much to include everyone’s favorite uncle
- Sam? You decide.
Still, I am oozing over with the supreme hope and
prayer, as one of my friends in particular has told me from the
beginning, that this trip will further strengthen my physical,
mental, and spiritual resolve to do any and all things that I
can to free the bodies, souls, and minds of my people, the world’s
first and oldest people and the people from whom all other people
came - yes, African (Black) people—from any and all forms of
anti-African oppression at home in Africa and abroad. In my heart
of hearts, I do believe that it will.
By so-doing, then I can more fully personify the
initials that make up my Almighty Creator- and African Ancestors-inspired
and self-created acronym HAWK, which stands for Holy African
Wise and Knowledgeable, traits which, though I am
far from perfect, I truly hope that I have exemplified in my daily
life both in public and in private without ceasing. If I have
not and/or do not, as the Elders used to say, please “charge it
to my head and not my heart” and with brotherly and/or sisterly
love correct me with constructive criticism. I thank you eternally
ahead of time.
Well, African World Family, I have detained you
enough. But I hope that I haven’t bored you. If so, think re-read
the above paragraph. (Huge smile) Hey, give me some feedback
if you will. I’ll be sure to read it when I get back and will
do my best to respond to as many as humanly possible personally.
Well, as “Marvel Comics” says, “enuff said”. I’ll
write you about my travels when I return. Until then, you all
be safe and sound and may the Almighty Creator, the African Ancestors,
and all the people who truly love and want the best for both you
and yours (family, friends, etc.), keep you, strengthen you, and
bring you oceans of joy is my prayer.
Peace!
HAWK (J. D. Jackson)
BlackCommentator.com
Columnist HAWK (J. D. Jackson) is a priest, poet, journalist,
historian, African-centered lecturer, middle school teacher and
part-time university history instructor. Click
here to contact HAWK. |