I Am Not Your Immigrant

I am NOT your immigrant. Not now, not ever!

Whispers of a Womanist

My last name is Saunders.

I am a descendant of Africans kidnapped from the continent centuries ago. My last name is a visible reminder of the chains that bound my ancestor’s limbs as they sat, cramped on the ship that literally and figuratively severed them from their motherland. I do not know my original last name, or the faces of my ancestors seized from our indigenous land. America stole that from me, and told me George Washington and Abraham Lincoln were my forefathers.

I don’t know the songs they sang before their abduction. Instead, America made me memorize “The Star Spangled Banner.” America prompted me to sing this song with my hand over my heart,  the heart that pumps the very blood pumped into the ground by enslaved ancestors. Blood, long forgotten if ever acknowledged, by white settlers.

My ancestors sat on dirty boats, bore children from rape, picked cotton…

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