By: Whitney-Jocelyn Kouaho (’20), Staff Writer
I was born in the Ivory Coast (Cote’D’Ivoire) and moved to America when I was six years old. All of my formative years were spent in a purely ‘Black’ African environment. Nonetheless, it was not surprising that when I arrived to America I experienced a culture shock. Considering that I was six years old, I didn’t really have any notions that I was different than my African-American counterparts because I had not yet been introduced to social constructs like ethnicity.
Later on I began to notice how misaligned I was with the culture of my other ‘Black’ friends. Our meals were different, our styles were different, and even our traditions were different. However, I never felt any animosity for my African-American brethren because we were one and the same. We shared a connection because of the shared treatment we received at the hands of America’s social and political battering upon those of Black ancestry, so I was startled to discover an unspoken divide between African-Americans and African immigrants like myself. I often witnessed conversations that would unexpectedly shift to critiques of African-Americans. Words like “lazy” and “ghetto” would roll off the tongues of my comrades. In thick accents native to lands afar, the parties would most likely reach a misguided consensus that African-Americans were unappreciative of their blessings.
Now, anyone who has an ounce of familiarity with African-American history knows this to be very unfair. The plight of Africans in America has long been recorded and the implications of a system based on their oppression is still in existence in 2017. However, if we were to flip the script we would discover a plight—a very different plight—but a plight nonetheless, rooted in a large majority of countries in Africa. The exploitation of African bodies and resources is a longstanding injustice still present today. Therefore, if African-Americans share a struggle against a common enemy with Africans, why is there animosity? Personally, I believe the problem can be attributed to two singularities. The first being the gradual assimilation of the African into European mannerisms.
Colonialism marked the beginning of a centuries long agenda grounded on completely revamping the “savage” Africans. This indoctrination attempted to create a mindset that did not value the cultures and opinions of other groups other than the Europeans—essentially, an Uncle Tom mentality. Secondly, the African immigrant traveling to America may have ill-perspectives of African-Americans because they have developed a victim complex which originated from their own mistreatment in their country of origin. The mindset is that America has many options for success, so therefore, why are African-Americans not using those opportunities? To put it more bluntly, “We all had to struggle so why do you expect to be handed favors?” These two singularities coupled with a lack of education on American and African-American history, underline what I believe to be the origin of unnecessary criticisms.
The previous does not serve as a complete analysis of the African race. It would be largely inaccurate if I were to assume that all Africans have these opinions of African-Americans, but from what I have witnessed it is not a singular occurrence. As is usual for controversial opinions, differences in ethnicity (African ethnic groups), age, and personal experiences can skew my observations. Nonetheless, this mindset must be eliminated. As we celebrate the glorious month of February, we share a commonality because we are all Black. Regardless of how closely related one’s ancestry can be traced to sub-Saharan Africa; we are all Black.
