Just Another Black Face in the Crowd - Part 3

How did I get here?

Call my arrival at this current time in space of my life an act of God, self-imposed remoteness, enthusiastic adventurousness, foolishness even, or active participation in an ever-dynamic world. It seems less important to understand how I arrived in the situation I created for myself. Rather, I would be better served in learning from my ancestors who have blazed a trail to be respected and examined to identify cues for success.

A challenging aspect of building bridges for a better tomorrow, especially as you move toward achieving educational, economic, and professional advancement, seems to suggest greater cultural isolation. A colleague of mine talked about cultural isolation in a conversation as I came across him during a walk downtown. We greeted one another with handshakes and broad smiles. It was like seeing an old familiar face from grade school.

After not seeing him for at least two months, I mentioned, “It sure is nice to see another Black face.” He immediately joined in a jovial, slightly uneasy laugh at the simple truth. Immediately, we had a ten-minute conversation about our experiences in education and professional settings of increasing isolation. The final conclusion he made was that he had to accept the fact and manage the growing isolation by developing ways of negotiating these predominantly White situations as he pursues his career goals. Simply put, if you’re going to move up, you got to deal with Whitey.

Immediately, I thought about all the entertainers, politicians, entrepreneurs, military personnel, and service workers interweaving throughout the fabric of society. We are there, oftentimes, invisible to our counterparts, sometimes the beckon of light moving an organization into the next century. Other times, they simply get by, attempting to be very still and quiet so not to make any waves. We are there, present and not so present.

When our ancestors were waiting in the dungeons across the coasts of Western and Eastern Africa, I wonder what they hoped and prayed to God for, wished to see on the other end of a long ride through tribulation.

If I had to guess, they did not envision me sitting and working in our world. I doubt they had the foresight or torrid imagination to envision Black Americans’ life with the diversity and complexity we enjoy and muddle through each day. I also believe they wanted as any parent would want for their child to have something more than they had.

Modern events are not the first examples of Black peoples having a prominent role in stirring cultural expectations and changing norms in society toward growth and prosperity. In many ways, we are returning to our roots bringing with us what was bestowed to our ancestors many millennium ago. If I had to guess, our ancestors envisioned that their gift of hope would come to fruition, a passion for life would blossom, and the desire for a new tomorrow would burn aflame.

So, although sometimes the lone Black face in the crowd, my face is part of a series of sojourned faces throughout time, out of Black Africa, across the four winds scattered across the Diaspora. I am never alone.