The Root of it All

"A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots." Marcus Garvey

My grandmother, Ernestine McDade, was a badass.

I think I had this healthy dose of fear and respect of her when I was younger. When I got older, I started to see the nuance of the struggle of being an educated, black woman, who set her own rules. I loved it, admired it, and sometimes hated it. She was always a woman who managed to have the last word. Her last words to me, after I finished my first year working in education was, "Well, I told you so." That was my Ma-Ma, and I love her dearly. I miss her so much.

One of my greatest memories was riding with her to Chicago to cousin Bill's house. They would get together before family reunions and gather information, share photographs and stories, and I had an amazed seat at the table while they worked on family history and stories. All of this culminated into our family reunion which was held almost every year. The honor of knowing at least a little bit about my history was this advantage, a treat. I wasn't this lost black girl not knowing where her people were from. However, the root of it all is that a piece of my history was still a bit lost.

I had these two Kuwaiti students, who used to take myself and my friend Yolanda around to different sites within their country. They knew their roots, their family line, the history and movements of their people. I have friends from the Continent, that can tell you about their tribe and history of their family; the why behind divides, colonialism making decisions about where people were supposed to settle. The root of it all is that they have intimate sense of their past, and it's something that I am quite envious. Although I have some, more than others, there are still parts of my history that I was dying to understand.

So here comes technology.....

I did a DNA test this summer and I received my results this week. Ever since, my mind has been filled with so many more questions and ideas about where my roots are truly from.

• 68% West African- Mali, Guinea, Senegal, Mauritania, Nigeria 
• 22% European- British, Irish, Mediterranean
• 1% East Asian and Native American

Then the interesting thing about the West African result is how the results broke apart my maternal side DNA. How through my mothers side, it traced the movement of her roots. How their language, religions, and traditions spread throughout Central and Southern Africa. It also explored my West African roots, and confirmed the movement was reflected in the Atlantic slave trade. I didn't need a DNA test to tell me that, but it brings a level of awareness that this is scientifically a part of my history. Thanks to my uncle, who did the testing a while back, I know that my paternal side is most likely from the Horn of Africa: Ethiopia, Sudan, and Somalia. The root of it all is that I am a product of some of the greatest empires that existed in this world. 

I haven't even started to dig in on the European part- I am still so overwhelmed with what I know already.

I was really trying to move on from the Middle East for work to explore other parts of the world, but I feel as if God planted me here because of its vicinity to where my roots are from. The language and religion of my scientific history, is one that is shared with my current physical location. It's so hard to explore these places from the states, but it is so much easier to do it from here. My dream to visit the continent could never be affordable over there in education. But here, if planned thoughtfully, can be something to deepened. The root of it all is that there is always a reason for reasons why we are where we are in this world. 

I wonder what my grandmother would say about all of this. I bet you she would've been one of the first to try to organize some trip and contact a distant relative or family member. And as I discover more, and figure out a way to honor her work,  I will indeed share my journey. It's the title of this blog after all....

Silence Sometimes Ain't Golden

"I don't regret anything I've ever done in life, any choice that I've made. But I'm consumed with regret for the things I didn't do, the choices I didn't make, the things I didn't say." Trevor Noah

I have been confronted recently with reactions to and acts of silence regarding everything: from work, to Charlottesville, to personal life. I was hoping to glide into 39 with an ease of a duck in water- seemingly smooth on the surface. But I forget that the duck is often flailing back and forth underneath.

And just like the duck, the appearance of things are never really what it seems, is it? I sometimes feel that silence buys you more time in that lake of tranquil peace, making light waves on the surface so the that the water stays pretty and picture perfect. But being silent about anything after awhile is just as harmful. Ecosystems thrive from disturbance. That's why after a torrential storm, the skies opens up and brings unique smells and flowers, death and life.

I didn't realize that I was into science that much. Shout out to my Biology teacher, Mr. Moss. RIH.

Back on track.....

Silence is never the issue when decisions about anything has to be made, not involving me. I am always willing to speak up for my students, or others, or when I see something that just isn't right. But I am very, very guilty of being silent when it comes to me and my needs. Like for some reason, my demanding/asking/recognizing that I need/want/felt something, is less than the needs of everyone else. And sure I can blame society placing limits on the voices of women, or even never wanting to appear to be an angry black woman in my majority white place of work. But my silence buys someone else another chance to dictate and control my life. And maybe, just maybe, it's time that I start seeing myself as valuable enough to speak up for my needs along with others.

I am guilty of being silent, when times has called for me to be loud. Some of you reading this won't believe this about me, but I comfortable sitting in silence when I am so shocked and hurt about something; or when I disagree with a decision and haven't quite figured out the right thing to say or how to react. Because it brings up feelings that I don't want to face, and brings out insecurities where I want to try to runaway.

But nothing says I'm getting older and better, like finding my voice. Like that storm of self-doubt eases a bit quicker; that there is a beauty in what rises up out of the quaking moment of just saying whatever it is from your heart. It does get a bit easier as you get older because you get to a magic moment of knowing that you are worthy of being heard and speaking up.

I told a female student the other day, "Don't ever apologize for advocating for yourself." I wish someone told me that when I was in my twenties. And now, when I speak up for myself?  Man- the sweet nectar of speaking up- well it's kinda awesome.

Crazy Maze

"To walk safely through the maze of human life, one needs the light of wisdom and the guidance of virtue." Buddha

I am officially a week away from my 39th birthday.

It's been almost three years since I last posted to this blog.

A major country move and a job later, I am still in the Middle East (or the GCC if you want to be specific) since my first posting.

And sometimes I admit that I may appear directionless, but it's only because of the latent fear of failure that sits in the back of my mind and follows me wherever I go. I tend not to listen to it, but sometimes it is hard to shake. So fear of failure follows me and in the attempt to try to shake it, I am in this maze of living that only my hope and faith will lead me eventually to the other side.

In some ways, running from this fear has led to many amazing adventures, and has blessed me to meet so many interesting people. I feel that the navigation of following faith instead of fear, has brought me a bit closer to my relationship with God. That the twists and turns are lessons that I have needed to learn.

And then there are moments when you have to face the fear that is chasing you, and own it for all that it is reflecting back to you.

- Like knowing when you get to a place in life where you can comfortably walk away and say that you've tried to save a relationship, a friend, a plant =)

- That admitting out loud that there is more to this life than work or a job. That happiness is your own personal shape of balance that you are trying to achieve and no one else's.

- That taking a risk is a good thing, and that the growing pains are just a sign that this is where you need to be. Although it may suck as you're going through it.

- That you really can never change a person, and knowing that the only peace you have is knowing that you stood in your truth.

- And just being able to say, "Thank you."

Last year was a tough year for me. I went through a ton of changes that scared me, excited me, disappointed me, and tested me. I stood in that maze feeling that I was retreating back to the same spot over and over again because I was definitely afraid of the mirror that fear was holding up to my face. So I took a look at that mirror, and pretty much said this is bullshit. I can't be stagnant in this moment any longer. It's time to find my way out. Fear, you can follow like a shadow, but I won't allow you to keep me standing still.

I feel like 39 will be this year where I take the things that I have learned and embrace the opportunities as they present themselves. I am embracing this crazy maze, and although I may get lost from time to time, I still have the faith and hope that I will see the light on the other side.