| Wednesday, January 25, 2006 |
| A Darker Shade of Black |
I feel like I’ve survived massive bombing and shelling, having dug out of the rubble looking at a horizon accented by whisps of grey fog. This after another hour and a half prayer counseling session, mostly dealing with racial reconciliation.
A blast from the past…for at least a year and a half of my childhood – sometime between ages four and six, my dad did his version of homeschooling. He kept the family home and indoctrinated us with the tenants of “black pride.” We learned black history and studied icons like Marcus Garvey, Malcolm X and the Black Panthers (lol – an icon to some, I suppose). We began to study Arabic, chose Yoruban names - all in preparation to move “back” to Africa. He emphasized Africa being our place of origin and how we didn't belong in America. I remember being very unhappy with the thought that I’d be some little beady headed kid running around naked with no shoes on in the hot sun – LOL. We were educated about “the man” and the American racist machine.
During this time I also learned that Jesus was a blue-eyed, blond-haired devil. I tell you, I still marvel at God’s plans, because I was “anti-christ” from childhood until my late twenties when I had a personal encounter with Jesus (story for another time). My dad must have looked at too many of those traditional “last supper” pictures and stained glass murals. Anywho, while all the other little neighborhood kiddies ran around outside playing tag, swinging their hula-hoops, playing with G.I. Joes and swapping marbles, I was stuck inside the propaganda tank.
During my “time off” from school I went to an all-black academy in NYC (60 mile commute daily from upstate NY), and we frequented many of the hot cultural centers (plays, black bookstores, museums, lectures) on the weekends. I knew we were “different,” but my dad taught us that this different was good – better and enlightened. We were “awake.” This difference he was imposing on us, in addition to the problems of life, set the foundation for the angry black woman I identified myself with last year. I found myself angry with God about my family’s challenges, and disgruntled with many things in ministry – but at the core the anger I felt was fueled by the indoctrination of my childhood. I was taught that I should be angry because there was a lot to be angry about.
Interestingly enough, after my parents split and we moved, the rest of my life was spent in multi-ethnic, multi-cultural environments. I loved it, and craved diversity…still to this day. This, in part, is why I enjoy missions so much. I love meeting people of different cultures and finding out their story. I love learning new things about myself and the world through the lenses of other cultures. I believe diversity is a picture of heaven. What a dichotomy – the past programming and present hunger. Somehow this helped diffuse my previous programming, but not enough to take the latent anger away.
In my prayer session I spent time repenting for participation in all that “stuff” and the myriad of judgments and attitudes that followed. I also forgave – my parents for raising us that way, people who have hurt me by their own prejudices and racist acts as well as people I have hurt. More profoundly, I forgave my African ancestry and the ancestry of caucasians for their participation in the wickedness of slavery. Things were complicated by the addition of Native American ancestry through my grandmother, and somehow that was an even more painful and profound repentance and forgiveness. I was exhausted again.
As I sat trying to process what I’d just went through and its implications, I realized that anger had been a banner, an entitlement for everything gone wrong in my life and within the black community, and for a flicker of a moment my subconscious realized that and didn’t want to surrender it. It was sort of like – what will I do without this anger??? I was at a crossroads. The longing in my soul to be free overcame the temptation, and *puffffff* - I surrendered it to God. Chains have been broken and a weight has been lifted.
Today I am the phoenix rising from the ashes. |
posted by heavenlydm @ 10:44 AM   |
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| 9 Comments: |
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Wow, Diane! What a powerful post. We all have demons from our past, and it is amazingly comforting to see you facing yours head-on. It sounds like you are really in touch with the inner you. How admirable. You are such an inspiration.
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You are a beautiful person and I just want to thank you for being who you are. You know, without the things that have happened to us in our pasts (childhood included) we would not be who we are today. I'm really beginning to love who I have become inside as a person. Sounds like you are breaking free and doing the same thing. God bless you, Diane!
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Emily: Thanks for finding admirable qualities in me :) I suppose I recognize I've got to get rid of my stinkin' thinkin' and attitudes. There's only so long you can go on before this kind of stuff hinders you from being all you can be. I want that for me! :)
Karon: Thank you so much for your words of affirmation. I liked me before (I think) - but every degree of new freedom has me liking myself more. The pain of staying the same far outweighs the pain of changing.
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WOW! That post gave me cold chills! It is sad what some parents (unknowingly) can do to their child and to their thought processes...but it sounds like, my friend, that you have left that behind you.
I love working, socializing and being friends with a diverse group of people. It makes my world bigger and my sights clearer...if that makes sense. Some people say life is too short...I so disagree...Life is too long too drudge through it with hate and ignorance...is there a reason why we can't accept anyone and everyone for what they are? I just don't get mean nasty hateful people.
That's about all I have to say about that.
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Sue: Pain, ignorance, fear, anger...drive people to do some crazy stuff. I believe the brokenness of my dad's childhood drove him to very extreme places. I can't figure out why my mom was a party to all this stuff, but at the time (60's) all that black power/black pride stuff was at a tempest so I an only figure they both got swept up.
I was telling my boss who's also a pastor about this the other day and realized my childhood programming was not unlike someone raised with values from the KKK - opposite spectrum, of course. My boss has lineage associated with the KKK. We share lots of personal stories and have found great ground for understanding and friendship.
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Please don't tell me you are a child of the 60's...I thought you were in your 20's until you said you had a daughter that was on a diet with you...so I figured you had to be in your 30's...
But I do understand what you are saying. I AM (!) a child of the 60's and remember all that black power / pride stuff. I was young, but remember it...my parents taught us that we were all equal so the KKK was never talked about in our home that I remember. I can honestly see how that could break a man's spirit to the point where he thinks...this WILL NOT happen to my children. Your dad was probably doing it all out of love.
I think it is great that you and your boss can sit and have conversations about this...this is one way to educate people in different points of views...duh, who would have thought to communicate!!
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Diane, Great post! I struggle with my dad and his prejudical attitude on a regular basis. How I didn't end up the same way I'll never know.
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Wow, letting go of childhood anger is one of the hardest things! I commend you for that and so much more. Anger is such a powerful and destructive emotion. Thanks for the post.
Hugs,
Cara
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Sue - YES...I was born in 66. It incidently was the year my dad was first institutionalized...LOL. You know they weren't throwing around the term "dysfunctional family" back then, so everybody thought that stuff was normal.
I love my talks with my boss. We have a love for missions in common so it always makes for great cultural exchanges.
Bear - THANK GOD you didn't pick that up! One less thing to fix :).
Cara - I'm so glad you're back. Worse than letting it go was admitting it was an issue. I'm glad to have some resolution in this area. Things have been different ever since.
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Wow, Diane! What a powerful post. We all have demons from our past, and it is amazingly comforting to see you facing yours head-on. It sounds like you are really in touch with the inner you. How admirable. You are such an inspiration.