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Jan
Blog Contest: How Does Knowing Your Roots Shape Your Identity? (Week 1)
This contest has ended. Winner announced below! Thanks to everyone who participated.
Each year, February is a big month for African Ancestry. We are fortunate to have opportunities to share the African Ancestry Experience, meet new people, and engage in conversations across the country. This year, we thought a contest would be a good way to reach even more people and hear your perspective on finding your roots. We will pose a question each week and reward the most thoughtful and insightful response with a free MatriClan or PatriClan Test Kit.
Our sense of identity starts to form very early in our lives. One of the first ways that we view ourselves is within the context of our family. We enter the world with many identities: our mother’s firstborn, grandmama’s baby, little sister or little brother. Throughout our lives our identity grows and evolves.
This week we’d like to know: HOW DOES KNOWING YOUR ROOTS SHAPE YOUR IDENTITY?
Post your response in the comments section of our blog between February 1st through 7th and you’ll have the chance to win a free African Ancestry Test Kit!
The winner will be announced on February 12th and will be chosen by President, Gina Paige and Scientific Director, Dr. Rick Kittles! See full contest rules here.
UPDATE 02/08/10: This contest is correctly closed. But enter our Week 2 contest to try and win a free test kit.
UPDATE 02/12/10:
The posts submitted for our first contest question: How does knowing your identity shape your roots?, were simply amazing. We are humbled and encouraged by the number of people who chose to share their feelings on the topic. The perspectives on identity were so diverse, engaging, and powerful that we had a very difficult time making a decision on one compelling response. This week’s winner is Darnell Taylor, a young man with admirable insight and passion. Congratulations Darnell!
Read Darnell’s Response:
Knowing my roots will help shape my identity by giving me something to take pride in. Most of us black youths don’t really care about our life, we don’t hold it in high value. I know this because I use to be like this, a lot of my friends are still like this. We have no clue of who we are. Everything we know about ourselves is a lie and it has been taught to us in school by Europeans and none of it is positive. So why would we care about ourselves when we’ve been taught to believe that we come from a weak people who were slaves that came from a “heathen” continent. How are we suppose to not believe what the European teaches us about ourselves when every Sunday we go worship a man that looks just like him.
The elders have no clue what the youth is going through and this is exactly why we act the way we act, because our souls and spirits have been bared for exposure without any protection. Our elders no longer share their wisdom with us, they look at us like we are heathens who don’t know Jesus. So if I find out my roots it will not only shape my identity but my friends around me who actually believe that we come from an embarrassing background. If our elders won’t help us then we have to gain the knowledge and wisdom and help ourselves.
p.s.
This is what’s needed I know because when I share the information about ancient Africa and the beauty of present day Africa with my friends I see how their souls glow, I see the decoding of slavery and oppression begin to dismantle, and instead of them going out and getting back in some trouble with the police they come over my house and ask for me to share more information and their parents have no clue that they are gaining this kind of information because they don’t care they rather believe that they are up to no good. This is what the youth NEED!
To everyone else, thank you for your responses. There are still more chances to win a FREE TEST KIT. Answer our Week 2 question to enter for a chance to win. Our Week 3 question will be posted on 2/15. Plus, you can also sign up for our mailing list in February and be entered for a chance to win a FREE TEST KIT.
By knowing my roots, it shapes my identity, by allowing me to stand tall, proud, and full of respect for the people who paved the way for me to BE ALL THAT I CAN BE IN THIS LIFE FOR MYSELF AND FOR OTHERS! For when we know where we come from and how we came about, there is a spiritual enlightenment that can enhance and bless our spirits with an energy of complete gratefulness and honor! I am a true believer that there is no reason for IGNORANCE, once you realize that KNOWLEDGE is A “PRESENT” LIKE NO OTHER.
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How does knowing my roots shape my identity? I’ll begin with saying that it allows me to grow properly. The Honorable Marcus Garvey said “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots”. When I meet Africans from Africa, I realize that they have something that we don’t have here in America, they still have the stories pasted down from generation to generation, they have the dances, the rituals, the native language, and some even have their original spirituality, this has all been stolen away from us. I want to know what part of Africa I am specifically connected to so I can begin my research and learn the indigenous language, dances, listen to the stories, this has been only a dream for me. I never accepted the fact that my history began with my ancestors as slaves and knowing my roots will provide me with proof of this which will become the backbone of my identity. Knowing my roots will shape my identity by helping me confirm that, I do come from something special, I have something to be proud of. I will no longer have to sit in history class and get a small peace of my history from a teacher who isn’t African and actually believe that’s where it all began with me and the rest of my African family.
Bless my Auntie’s heart for talking to me about my grandfather’s side of the family. One day she decided to give me the entire family tree as far as she could remember and talk about my great-grandmother and her siblings and her parents which was a window all the way back to a generation right before slavery.
I felt empowered. I felt like “Here is where I come from. I am a mix between my Aunt Maye, an outspoken woman who would tell anyone off at the drop of a dime. (She died the year I was born) and a great-great aunt who was a free-spirited woman living in New Orleans and then moved out to California. Just to know some of those details makes your chest stick out a little bit farther.
People who have documentation of where they came from take for granted the history they have. I had a woman get upset with me because I talked about wanting to know my roots into slavery and beyond. She became uncomfortable..and snapped at me “Well not all white people have records either.” I looked at her like “Okay.” I never said they did..I just know what I don’t have. I just know what millions of black folk don’t have and they are searching for and would probably help hold their heads up higher if they did know.
I continue to ask my aunties what they know. Unfortunately my last remaining grandmother passed away last year in Enterprise, Alabama. I had questions about her life and her stories.
Who am I? Where did I come from?
Knowing from whence I came is a great source of cultural pride. But even more important than this, uncovering my roots provides a critical link to my identity and can even help me down the road with health conditions and diseases that may occur more commonly within one racial or ethnic group than another. Simply put, knowing from whence I came could one day save my life.
I had a MatriClan test done this past winter on my mother’s maternal lineage. I was astounded and at first even a bit saddened to find out that my maternal grandmother, and consequently my mother, my sister and I, are of Middle Eastern ancestry, with the sequence belonging to Haplogroup N1c, a non-African lineage. We later had a great time laughing at the thought that about 60,000 years ago, my grandmother’s maternal lineage moved out of Africa and their descendants later formed the M and N Haplogroups. To help you understand the source of our laughter, let me first tell you a bit about grandmum. She is 93 years old, quick-witted with spunk, inquisitive and smart, with unbelievable charisma. She tells it like it is, shame the devil. We laughed because we could see her and her people saying “It’s time to see what else is out here” while leaving the Mother Continent.
That is who she is and I’ve been told, that was also who her mother was and her mother’s mother and so on. That’s my maternal legacy.
So now I’m very appreciative of the genetic findings. I’m determined to learn as much about Haplogroup N1c as I possibly can so that I can have as complete a picture on my maternal ancestry as possible. I’m committed to researching all I can about the entire Middle East region and other parts of the world where Haplogroup N1c can be found. And I’m committed to getting other MatriClan and PatriClan tests done to unveil more ancestrial lineages.
For me, knowing my roots gives me a sense of empowerment over my life like never before. Put another way — if my roots are a roadmap, knowing from whence I came is a way to steer me back in the right direction.
How does knowing my roots shape my identity? I have often felt that i was somehow misplaced, and seem to be going through life out of sync with what i should be doing and where i should be going. It has shaped me in the since that I feel disconnected from what I should know and understand about who I am and the people that I come from. I feel a deep unknowing loss of how proud my ancestors were an should still be. Somehow I am still them and they are still me, but I still do not know them or where they came from. this loss holds me back from what i should be doing to HONOR them and the many sacrifices they made centuries ago. This is what i long to do is to simply HONOR their memories and them with the true knowledge of MYSELF!!
The colonization of the Africa by the Europeans is the very cause of OUR identity crises. The identity that most African people have has been ‘given’ to us. So, we aimlessly and destructively try to fit into a standard that isn’t healthy and is not who we are. We were ‘given’ language, religion, ideology… All of which are unnatural to us. The institution of slavery, both physical and mental, thrives on our lack of true self. It has encouraged us to “believe” that we should be at war with our very selves; when we should be working together for our COLLECTIVE liberation. There is an imminent threat to our very livelihood as African people on this earth. The sense of community and responsibility to our community that is ingrained in African culture is necessary for our very survival. Our DNA doesn’t forget, so we shouldn’t.
How does knowing my roots shape my identity? My ancestors are the tree roots so I am therefore the branches, everything that I am up to this point and everything that I hope to be, is due to their strengths, struggles, and their many sacrifices. It is now my responsibility to carry on where they left off and to always make them proud, while never forgetting the tears and blood that they have shed for me
Knowing my roots keeps raising the expectations and standards of our family. We have been raise with constant reminders of the struggles and sacrifices made so that we and each generation after us will grow stronger, more successful, and selfless.
Of course knowing your roots helps shape your identity. For far too long our families have been torn apart by the atrocities countries like the US, France and England participated in during the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade. I felt it was my duty to become the family historian, to pass down information about our ancestors to the younger generations throughout all sides of my family. Imagine my suprise when first conducting research I discovered cousins I have never knew before. My 13 year old neice asked me about her heritage and I was proud to share that we come from a long line of free african americans, native americans and hispanics that contributed to the growth of this country, not just as slaves. Many of my family members have now decided to name their children after some of their ancestors’ names to keep the tradition and history alive for generations to come.
Acknowledging your ancestral cultural heritage give you a historic geographical cultural basis on which to reference your person. The metaphor I refer to when I state the referencing of a person, give the individual a geographical genetic origin, where your ancestor resided.
To reaffirm your knowledge of ancestral root, your start to think feel, and partially relive the lives of all your genetic predecessor, this gives you a superimposed self view, Spiritually, mentally, physically. Which can make the individual feel at peace, confidant about the day to day vigour’s that life throw at you.
Although I am a resident of the Diaspora, and have been for some 150 – 470 years, Its quite thought provoking to see family`s sometime 3 -5 generation at function, wondering what it must be like to sit at a meal with then on a Sunday evening, listen, exchanging thought and feelings extend sometime over ninety odd years? Priceless! As in the very essence of conversation is the legacy of our journeys past, present and future, like the very season of the year, life is indeed a secular circle.
To know your ancestry is to maintain not only the circumference of your reality, but your very being.
Let the circle be unbroken…..
Aseh.
“He who controls the present, controls the past. He who controls the past, controls the future”
I have seen that by knowing my roots, a pain was eased. Not knowing where my ather’s family came from always bothered me because my mother is white. I took the test to find out that not only are we from the continent many call Africa but also from a tribe of Amerindians in Bolivia. I got my Aunt a test and we found out about our West African roots and now I no longer feel stigmatized as not connected to other black people. Knowing your roots lets one be comfortable with what you look like no matter your complexion. Now I am planning on doing graduate research on the genetic connections African Ancestry helped me discover.
He said, She said.
With roots in the south, we know that there are many families with various backgrounds. My family is from the south, and so is my husband and his family. My mom has green eyes and her skin gets quite red when she tans. My children and I have very Asian looking eyes. Her father was in and out of her life until his death in 1977, the year that I came along. Are we part Asian, or could we be part Eskimo, or do we have relatives in Hawaii?
When my grandfather on my dad’s side died, I got to get a pretty good look at a picture that someone had drawn. The couple on the picture, were said to be my grandfather’s parents. An African American man, and a woman who is said to be a Cherokee Indian. Well, that’s what we’re told, but could she be more? Or did the picture did not do her justice?
My mom just found out last year that her grandfather was Indian and Irish. And she’d known already that her grandmother was some at least part Indian. Well, anyway, that’s what she was told.
My dear, poor husband is very bright colored, along with many on his mom’s side. His father died a couple of years ago and there are many questions unanswered. His father didn’t have much of anything to do with him. He didn’t know him, and my children didn’t get to meet their grandfather, which I wanted to happen so badly. Maybe he could have possibly answered some of the questions of at least that part of his ancestry. He had a sister in law who was stationed in Germany, who found out there were Germans who had the same last name as my husband, who’d taken on his mom’s last name. Did we finally have that missing puzzle piece, or was it possible that people of that surname had migrated to Germany. The searches done on the internet seem to send us in a loop.
I don’t want to close doors in finding answers. My dilemma, though, is that there are so many doors open, and most of them have question marks on them. I want to know what doors are open for us. Just how much are we mixed up with? I want to know who I am and share with my children, who they are.
Knowing my family history will be very helpful to me and my siblings, and our nieces, great-nephews to know about. I was adopted at age 12 by a wonderful family that I stayed with from foster care. I recently found out from a brother, that I grandmother and greatgrandmother are Haitian. I began by asking him his middle name which has a similar spelling to Desselines. We don’t have other information at the moment except what the other sibiling may know themselves about our past since our birth mother, aunts and uncles are deceased. grandmother are deceased including our grandfather. My brother and I may have the same father but we don’t know like the other siblings know. I have wanted to start this for many years. Since my adopted parents are now deceased my mom on 1/1/03 and my father 1/2/09, I feel a yearing to know more about my past since my adopted siblings have their link. It is important that I begin this search and fill in a long family gap of lost history that needs to come to life.
Thankyou.
Knowing my roots is a very important factor to my life. I wanted to know more about my roots when my grandfather on my mother’s side passed away in July 2009. When he passed, It made me feel like I should know my ancestry more and how my family orginated to the state that they are in today. Knowing my ancestry would benefit me and my family in ALOT of ways. This information could be added to my family’s yearly reunions so it can be passed on to the next generation. Being young in this day and age, alot of people my age loose sight of where they come from and by knowing their roots, it would help shape my identity as individual in this ever changing world where your only classified in 4 categories.
” A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree with out roots.” -Marcus Garvey
Knowing my roots shapes me in a way that allows me to know who I am and who’s I am as a person and spirit. It gives me the inspiration to move forward in life and teaches me that I have a purpose in life and to unite not just my family but my community and return ourselves to our Traditional greatness. Knowing my roots allows me to walk in the sacred ways of the ancestors to think as the would, speak as they would, work as hard as they would, keeping faith in God, my ancestors and a better day for all Afrikan people. Also knowing my roots allows me as a 22 year old see the foundation of which my bright and promising future is set upon and shows me that I have a strong and power force of people to fall on when things are not well.
When I turned five years of age my mother became ill for the second time, with a form of postpartal depression bordering on schizophrenia. We her four children were placed into separate foster homes I didn’t forsee then the magnitude of the moment. Never did I realize at the time that the next seven years of my life would be spent away from my mother. I would cry each night before I went to sleep wondering when this slumber party would end and I could go home to her and I’d have dreams that one day like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz I’d awake and my biological brothers, mother, and dad would be standing over me telling me it was all just a dream. Eventually, as I grew older I grew to love my extended foster family as well and I began to understand the necessity they presented. Still, I yearned for my own family and the knowledge of who they were in comparison to myself. Why I had certain characteristics that made me different from them. Characteristics that even my foster mother would tease me for such as my well known slowness. If anyone has ever known the lost of a love one, and I can imagine what our captive ancestors must have felt ripped from the shores of their home, then indeed they can relate to how knowing our roots shape our identity. I was twelve years old when I returned to my mother and I had almost forgotten her. I had to learn her ways all over again and I began to see parts of her character in my own. People who say we should get over the separation of our families by the perils of slavery lack compassion. They obviously have never suffered the alienation of a loved one. Knowing who my family is and where I came from makes me strive to improve who I am.
If you know where you are coming from, you will know where you are going. In Ghana, we call that SANKOFA, to wit, go back to your roots. Knowing our roots is the beginning of wisdom. And wisdom shall make us free for, wisdom is power.
There is joy in heaven if brothers and sisters trace their roots because, we are God’s first family. The black race becomes stronger. We need a united front to confront our challlenges.
Empowerment,empowerment,empowerment…after all, only the best was taken from the Motherland. As an African-American I always wondered as a child why I would hear,”in order to know where you’re going, you must find out where you’ve been.” We did not come to this country under our own power, and we were forced to lose our language. At least I know the origin of my being and therefore I can forge ahead with my God given purpose here. No one can take that away.
I would like to be able to tell my children an answer with substance. More than your Black or African American, They go to school and study the history of others with maps and locations, see their etnicity, in the food and culture, hear their languages, and have a full intepretation of others with nothing more of themselves than the knowledge given them daily in the mirror. Perhaps these are selfish resons, but i think it harsh to tell my children to be leaders not followers and to always be true to yourself and to offer them little more than words to whom that is
I can remember being 2 years old, sitting in front of the television with my family as they were riveted by some black people on the screen. It was 1977. My elders were serious. I kept still, quiet. Somehow I was aware that the television was showing something of importance. As kids often imitate what they see, I recall going down to the basement of our Brooklyn home to get my blue toy penguin. I wanted to re-create a scene that felt magical to me—the only one that stayed etched in my memory for years before I grew up to revisit the miniseries “Roots” with an adult perspective. I held that toy above my head and proclaimed, “Blue baby, blue.” In toddler-speak, that meant, “Behold, the only thing greater than yourself.” But naturally, words escaped me at the time.
My family has given me a strong foundation of self-awareness, self-love, and pride. We are well-anchored by our unity, but knowledge of our own roots were vague for many years due to previous generations not wanting to talk about the past, and little oral tradition. As I grew up, I wondered about the Middle Passage, Jim Crow, and the Great Migration. How did my ancestors fit within the context of history? Who were these individuals who paved the way for my existence? What kind of paper trail did they leave behind? I have devoted much of my adult life to finding answers to the genealogical mysteries of my kin. Fortunately, doing research in the digital age has opened so many doors and razed so many walls with access to a world of records and data. This is a lifelong journey for me. As I find more about whom and where I have come from, it gives me more fervor to preserve this wealth of information for posterity. I want it to be that my children, and their children, and so on, will grow up with the knowledge of their history as though it was always there.
I had a dream last night that stayed with me all day. I dreamt that I was talking to my oldest brother about DNA testing. In the dream it was urgent because he was the last son from my mother alive to get the family history. It didn’t make sense to me at first, but than the more I thought about it the more I was driven to search. After reading the stories of all those who have unlocked their ancestory through the African Ancestory test brought such clarity to my dream. My mother passed away in 1998 and she was such a strong, spiritual, talented and intelligent woman; she was born and raised in Georgia. As a child we moved to California, but I never knew much of my family history on her side. I’ve always longed to know more of who I was, the original origin of my people. My mother always talked about finding out our African ancestory because many times people would ask her if she was from Sierra Leone. I’m the youngest of five and I feel that knowing my roots will give me and my remaining family the solid foundation that I/we need to fully understand our place in this world. I will be able to impart to my children and grandchildren a heritage that they can be proud of and empower them to overcome their challenges…knowing where they’ve come from will give direction to their future. Knowing my roots would be the highest honor I could give in respect to my mother. She always said “Be proud of who you are!” This kind of pride comes from knowing my true African ancestory.
I think knowing my history will not only help me but my entire family know our heritage. I come from a family that has alot of genetic traits most african americans dont have. 1/3 of my family is deaf, 1/3 hard of hearing and the remaining family members have normal hearing. for this reason my family dont know each other because of the communication problem within the family. I personally am a only child and I have two children of my own that I want to know everything about where they came from and where it started. the only way of knowing is the empowerment of the knowledge of this site. As stated in the opening of this site its the only site that will get my family in touch with our african heritage. I need to know who Im connected to so we can spread the knowledge to the ignorant ones on this journey of our heritage
Knowing my roots will help shape my identity by giving me something to take pride in. Most of us black youths don’t really care about our life, we don’t hold it in high value. I know this because I use to be like this, a lot of my friends are still like this. We have no clue of who we are. Everything we know about ourselves is a lie and it has been taught to us in school by Europeans and none of it is positive. So why would we care about ourselves when we’ve been taught to believe that we come from a weak people who were slaves that came from a “heathen” continent. How are we suppose to not believe what the European teaches us about ourselves when every Sunday we go worship a man that looks just like him.
The elders have no clue what the youth is going through and this is exactly why we act the way we act, because our souls and spirits have been bared for exposure without any protection. Our elders no longer share their wisdom with us, they look at us like we are heathens who don’t know Jesus. So if I find out my roots it will not only shape my identity but my friends around me who actually believe that we come from an embarrassing background. If our elders won’t help us then we have to gain the knowledge and wisdom and help ourselves.
p.s.
This is what’s needed I know because when I share the information about ancient Africa and the beauty of present day Africa with my friends I see how their souls glow, I see the decoding of slavery and oppression begin to dismantle, and instead of them going out and getting back in some trouble with the police they come over my house and ask for me to share more information and their parents have no clue that they are gaining this kind of information because they don’t care they rather believe that they are up to no good. This is what the youth NEED!
I would get to know where my ancestors came from. It would bring relief to me to know I’m not just another African American, but I know where my ancestors came from in Africa. I would love to share this with my mother who really would want to know where we came from in Africa. She grew up in a little town in Texas, and always wondered want it would be like to have that connection with Africa. She was around in that time where it was hard for African Americans living in Texas. It would just be great to know that I have a connection to Africa, and I’m not just some strange African American citizen. I would want to know my ancestral roots to pass on to my children, so they can be proud of where they came from.
When you have someone in your family history,who is of another nationality (such as Caucasian),you tend to want to know not only your African American,but of your Caucasian Ancestors as well. I am an African American woman,who has a Caucasian grandfather. My father’s mother was Mulatto,and his father was either Irish or German. I say this because of the surname we have,which is “DRAPER”. My dad was born 1920,in a small town called: Ripley,TN. Blacks and Whites were not allowed to date. My grandmother often “Passed” for white. This is how she met my grandfather,and had 2 sons with him. My paternal grandparents were not married,and my father did’nt like to talk about his parents. My mother (who is African American) only talked about her parents and grandparents. The point is: We as African Americans DO NOT KNOW WHERE WE CAME FROM. We may have come from Africa,Asia,or even Central America,because “Dark Skinned” people were everywhere!. We were stripped of your hearitage,our customs,and our native tongue. We were born and raised to live by the customs of Europeans. We learned what was ours,but so-much what was’nt!. Now that I am the mother of 3 and grandmother of 5, I’ve taught my children and grandchildren what I was taught. How great it would be,if all African Americans knew the “Rivers” that flow into their veins!.
Knowing my roots shapes my identity, because it will allow me to right down my ancestor’s stories and help shape the path for my children and their children so they can be proud and not ashamed of their own history. Knowing my roots will help me strive to be more confident in my future and knowing that my ancestors worked hard to make me free and not have me working on some white man’s plantation picking cotton. Knowing my roots will help generations to know their own history and be proud of what our people went through to make us able to get an education, get higher paying jobs and be able to be to say I know who’ll I am and ain’t nothing then going to hold me down. I have earned my freedom no one or thing will put me in chains and I am royalty. That is how my roots will shape my identity.
Knowing who you came from is the most important part of a persons life as far as I am concerned. I am a 66 year old interracial woman who untill recently knew nothing of my African American heritage. I lived my entire life as part of my mothers Caucasion race. For reasons only he knew my father would never discuss his family with me. There always seemed to be a void in my life and an emptiness that is hard to explain. I was a puzzle with a very important piece that was missing.
Two months ago my daughter and I were able to find two people who were related to me.From these two people I found more and more family. Of course they had all passed on but I didnt care!!!! I had family!! My grandparents, uncles and aunt all had names that I had never heard before!! For the first time in my life I felt that I was a whole person
How does knowing my roots shape my identity? The answer is simple. We ARE our ancestry! No matter how many degrees we earn, or how much we advance in our chosen careers, we remain who our parents shaped us to be. Through their sweat and pain, they advanced us to a level they could not achieve for themselves. And they were the products of their parents, and our grandparents reflected their parents, and so on… We must seek our roots as deeply as possible, for there lies the keys to our being, and lays the foundation for the legacy we leave our children. How many times does President Barack Obama recall memories of his caucasian mother’s plight raising him as a single mother, and his grandparents’ influence on him as an African-American youth being raised by caucasians. He loved them, but he still felt the need to touch his African father’s part him. Accepting BOTH sides of his heritage formed him into the compassionate, strong leader that he is today. This is true with all of us. African Ancestry helped me trace my maternal roots back to the Mende people in Sierra Leone through my DNA. This is absolutely amazing to me the technology available to do this. Now, I’m just as curious to learn my paternal roots as well. If only I could trace my American roots from the time after the Middle Passage to the present, as easily.
How does knowing my roots shape my identity? If I don’t know where my roots begin how can I know who I truly am? Tracing my roots back to my forefathers orgin gives me a new look on who I am in this new world today. I am very interested in finding my paternal roots beyond 1875 in the United States. I’ve started to trace my paternal roots and 1875 is where I’ve hit a brick wall, it is as if my paternal line stopped there. Helping me find my paternal roots would explain why I am who I am.
Knowing my roots helps to shape my identity because it will give you a better understanding of who you are.In this great country of America that we live in,there are many different nationalities that comprise the population. Each specific group brings something special to the table so that we may all enjoy that’s what makes our country great. However, with our people knowing their exact lineage on the continent of Africa, I believe it will create a spark,a spark that will become a flame.A flame that will become a great fire in the minds of our people to feel a great sense of pride, dignity and a new found sense of relief. Through all of our trials and tribulations to be able to finally identify with your ancestors is one of the greatest feelings of accomplishment in our lifetime! It will help you to stand a little taller feel a sense of belonging and fill a void that we know is over 400 years old.No one can stop us it is our time,
How does knowing my roots shape my identity?
Knowing my roots has shaped my identity by pushing me to learn who my ancestors were and what they accomplished in life. It has given me a greater appreciation for whom they were, what they accomplished, under adverse circumstances, and realizing that the family values they passed down came from strong willed people. This knowledge has made me do whatever I can to preserve their memory and share it with other family members, who at times think they can’t accomplish their dreams. I try to show them that they are descendants of people who were born free, but into slavery. The freedom I enjoy today came out of the brutuality they suffered, often in silence, hoping that one day their descendants would be free, as God intended all of us to be. Knowing my identity and past will help motivate me to always strive to make a better world for all of us to live in.
For the past 25 years I have been on a quest to document my roots because we did not have much family history passed down to us. It was a past that they did not feel good about and in most instances, wanted to forget. In the early 80’s I had a conversation with an uncle on my mother’s side and an aunt on my father’s side. From those conversations, I ended up with 2 pages of notes and have been able to trace my ancestors back to the early 1800’s. I want to know something about them before that time. With all the research I have done, there are still many holes in our history. One of the main one is that my Grandfather’s family was sold to another slave-owner, as was the practice in those days, and their names were changed. Because there is no one left with the knowledge of who that first slave-owner’s family was, I have hit a brick wall. To my knowledge, as evidenced from the attendees at our family reunions, I am the only living descendant with this wealth of information that I have gathered over the years. It is my desire to share this with the present and future generations. Although I may never be able to complete this circle, this DNA test will give us answers that my limited research cannot, and in doing so at least give us the satisfaction of knowing where our original ancestors came from. My family has always tried to instill in us what the real meaning of family is and we could at last know the start of a great family chain of generations that link us to the past and keep us connected to the future.
Thank you for this opportunity to share part of my story.
Being able to trace our roots allows the African in America to reclaim in essence who we truly are. Malcolm X once said, “A cat can have kittens in a oven, but that doesn’t make them biscuits”. Our nationality may be American but our DNA holds the truth of who we really are. I am proud to be a part of the African family tree yet I yearn to know from which specific branch I descend. In West African culture it is believed that the ancestors never truly die but are reborn through their descendants. It would be an honor to know through whose eyes I am seeing the world. The African in America is the product of a culture not of his own creation. I am ready to return to that great culture that birthed me so that I may continue a legacy that was interrupted so long ago. When my children look to me and ask where do they come from I want to be able to look them in their eyes with pride and tell them a history unique to them. And more importantly…I would be able to grant peace and pay respect to generations of my ancestors who have been forgotten for entirely too long.
Ase.
I am the great-granddaughter of Mable Bland. On Jan. 15, 2010 she died. She was the beginning of our family – the mother of one, the grandmother of five and the decendents that followed number 47. We were six living generations breathing and being because a tiny little housekeeper at 13 bore a child in Shreveport, La. I don’t know much about this dark-skinned woman who survived 99 years. (Family folklore hints she might’ve broken the century mark more than a year before she took that final breath). But I know she was strong. She was loved and she loved.
My Grandma Bland wore cat-shaped glasses with a bead chain that wrapped around her neck. She kept little glass bowls filled with candy on her antique tables and if there was a lightning storm passing, we had to cut off the TV and sit quiet til the thunder’s roar was long gone. She never talked about her past. She never revealed the identity of the man who impregnanted her – but the blue eyes and very fair skin of my grandfather told it’s own story.
It was a mystery that didn’t need unraveling when I was a child. But as I grew older each visit revealed a new layer of wrinkles on Grandma Bland’s face. Her once bright eyes were cloudy and her memory fading. After a while she didn’t know who I was. After a while, I don’t think she knew who she was either. During my last trip back home, she had stopped talking all together. It saddened me. But I was delighted to be in her company, sitting with her, holding her hand or giving her a gentle kiss. It was too late for my questions. But, I know who I am. I am a mother, a daughter, a sister and a wife. I am one of Grandma Bland’s great-grandchildren.
How Does Knowing Your Roots Shape Your Identity?
I wouldn’t go far as to say knowing one’s roots will shape one’s identity. But, it does open up the possibility. I am one of the fortunate individuals who has had the opportunity to know my maternal line intimately from my great grandmother on. My knowledge of her and her mate’s struggles in this country have had a life influencing impact in my life. It gave context, even as a child, to experiences I had and helped mold my orientation to being black in America. Knowledge of my roots became an antidote to the propaganda being force fed by the educational institutions I attended. There were no super beings in my background. Just every day people trying to make a decent living within a political and social system which denied their humanity. Without rancor or bitterness, my greatgrandmother merely insisted that I strive to be the best I could be without negotiating away my humanity. A lesson I learned and respected. And, have attempted to pass on. That part of her became a part of me and my identity.
What a beautiful reflection. I can see her in my mind’s eye! I wish I had met her, but reading this was the next best thing. Please know that her spirit shall never forget you. Your recollection of your great grandmother is a sacred memory, and I thank you for allowing us to experience it. HOTEP
That previous post was for I. Liv.
How does knowing your roots shape your identity?
History’s resolve was to dis-empower us as a people by taking away any roots of ancestral identity, along with our ancient culture and language.
If it made sense to take these things away to dis-empower us, it only makes sense that gaining knowledge of your ancestral family would be an empowering experience. Knowing your roots empowers one to reject any notions or aspersions of inferiority, be they conveyed by the dominant society or your neighbor.
Knowing my roots has added another dimension to my circle of life. As the family historian, I have developed research in a family tree that goes back to 1790. Knowing my roots adds a special kind of richness that heals the spirit. It has given me a renewed sense of pride, dignity, a deeper respect for my elders and ancestors and love of Black people. This new knowledge has been critical in my taking permission to reconstruct my personal image of self in a more positive and powerful manner.
The concept of knowing my roots which shape my identity, I believe is based simply on the concept, “If you do not know your past, you don’t know your present or future.” I believe the souls of our ancestors still move around and in us. For as long as I could remember myself, I always had a strong hunger to know the history of my people whether they were African, so-called Hispanic or so-called Indian American. I have done an abundance of research on my family — both maternal and paternal — for a couple of decades. Each leaf found to place on the tree filled me with an emotion that is indescribable. I strongly believe if most if not all “African Americans” can touch the essence of their ancestors’ prior existence through research, the many ills of our community would dissipate.
to be plead of the place and people
Knowing our african american son’s maternal ancestry gives him roots and answers that we would never be able to give him, otherwise, considering his adoption was a closed adoption by his birth mother’s choice. Having these answers are exciting for us and will be life changing for him, as he grows and develops a passion for knowing who he is and where he has come from. It is an opportunity of a lifetime and one that we have AFrican Ancestry.com to thank for!
Knowing where I came from enables me to make better decisions about my future.
I believe that knowing my ancestry is so important. It is a part of who I am and how I’ve become the person who I am. My parents are of west indian descent, so beyond this I have no idea where my African Ancestry lays. After watching the African American Lives documentary 3 years ago, I’ve been very interested in discovering my heritage and plan to take a trip to my place of ancestry, wherever that may be, next year. I am a 23 year old woman, and hope that in learning my background, I can pass this down to my future children and their children, as it will be a part of them as well. I think in knowing where I’ve come from, I will be able to learn more about myself and my family; see where we’ve come from and how we’ve arrived where we are now. I hope that through this great opportunity, that missing piece of my ancestry will finally be revealed and I can have a full picture of who I am.
Knowing your roots shapes your identity in many ways. They always say you can’t know where you are going until you know where you have been. I believe know your roots could answer a lot of questions people have as to their chosen career paths or God-given talents. I feel that by knowing where I come from, I’d be able to share that with my future children and their children. Being aware of where you originated is a gift that can span generations. I’ve done research already and have traced my mother’s father to the Choctaw nation in Oklahoma. Knowing where our African blood comes from would definitely complete the equation and give us something solid, powerful, and strong to stand on.
Knowing my place of origin besides the U.S., means everything to me. It would some what complete the puzzle of our people no matter where our ancestors where taken their roots began in Africa. The very name has fascinated me for years, and connecting to Africa should be a high priority with all descendants of the darkest period in our history, to know my real surname would be the greatest achievement of my life, instead of the name of a slave owner.
Personally I have tried to trace my family heritage but I can only go as far as my grandparents, so this shows how devastating the slave trade was and has been to our people, not knowing your roots is not something no other group of people have had to experience. So knowing my roots is essential to me.
Thank you
How does knowing my roots shape my identity?
I just wished that this technology was around 50-60 years ago. Finally knowing about my roots have made me proud. I now know the names of my ancestors, something that my parents never knew. In the early genearation they were ashamed to know that they came from African roots and it was not spoken of. Slavery made them ashamed, but now, there is pride. I carry that pride for them.
Knowing my roots,I found out about my people, how they lived, what they ate, their language, customs. I have traced on my father’s side his grandmother’s mother to the mid 1700’s.
My identity is now shaped by knowing my roots, the land of my father’s father, my mother’s mother.
I now, know me.
When a persons knows a great deal about their roots, their identity will be shaped psychologically, with confidence of their role in the universe. The past, present, and future are undoubtably interconnected, being creations of each other. Since we all have a past, we can be somewhat compared to used products. We are used in the sense that, we are mere compositions of past people. Used products can have many parts and functions, whether we are aware of them or not. Often times when we want to get the best out of used products. It is necessary to know the past story associated with them. In reviewing the product’s past, we can gain insight on the product’s weaknesses, essence, and potential. As a result we become more confident in our usage and even mastery of it. So therefore people, who understand a great deal about their roots are confident about what they endow, being used products. As a result, their identity is shaped pyschologically, with more confident about their role in the universe.
“How simple a thing it seems to me that to know ourselves as we are, we must know our mothers’ names.” -Alice Walker
Recently, a neighboring passer-by stopped right in her tracks to marvel at my lively, oversized ponytail palm: “You rarely see ‘em get that big. I’ve had one for years, and it’s not half that size!” Eyeing the familiar, I caught Ponytail Palm anew. Full. Unruly and let loose–yes, an unbought-and-unbossed willfulness about her, serious. It seemed to me that that tree stood a little bolder than I’d remembered, flowed a little freer, swayed even. Made me wonder about that Ponytail Palm. Surely, she too could’ve (should’ve?) been half her size. After all, and with great indifference, I’d placed her in a corner (with much natural light, I’ll admit—appeasement for the lack of a room of her own) to see if she could just, well, make something of herself. Looks like she had.
While picking up the dead leaves of neighboring plants, I wondered how Ponytail Palm had managed to survive. And I imagined she would say to me, “Girl, you got to know your roots. I would’ve been done bowed down had I not remembered what I already knew. Even you left me out here to ‘make a kind of life,’ and I had to reach way back to remember how to live. Let me tell you about ponytail palms and support roots, climbing roots, strangling roots…” “Strangling roots?” I’d ask. “Honey, yes. Strangling roots. Now write this here down, and give it to that neighbor of yours.”
Lela Belle, Thelma, Anna Belle, Lula, Harriett…from my mother’s mother to the severely bent, (but not broken) nameless others…there in the muddy Carolina rice fields walking…talking indigo/skins of northern Nigeria. A gap in Black Herstory bridged only by rootwork [genealogy]. There is a conjuring.
“Because we are free women…born of wise women…who are born of strong women…we speak your names.” –Pearl Cleage
How does knowing your roots shape your identity? Its important for me to known my past so , I can mold my future.Knowing my roots will help me to understand myself better.It will help me to educated my daughter and grandchild about their ancesters culture,religion,lanuage and history.This knowledge would encourage them to be the best they can be.It would give us a sense of pride and dignity. If I knew my roots my family and I would travel to the country were me orginally came from and I, would adventually build a family home there.Thank you, africancestry for giving me a chance to know my past.