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Still Thinking About The Ancestors
1/20/2016 4:14:02 PM

By Hakim Abdul-Ali 

It's the middle of January, and I'm thinking of how brisk the outside air is where I'm at.

I know that the temperatures vary in so many different sectors of America until it's not easy to describe one set weather type.

Life's changing weather is like the conflicting natures of ordinary people in many ways.

You probably know what I mean because life and people are full of predictable unpredictable changes.

The weather here in the South Carolina Lowcountry is cool, not frigid, and for some strange reflective writing moment in time, I'm thinking of the ancestors of the African-Americans.

You may ask, "What does that have to do with topic today?"

I don't know because there's no simply answer to that inquiry, and I can't explain to you why my thoughts are heading there thinking about my African ancestors, but they are there now.

I literally am thinking of those respected elders and queens with a cold chill running down my spine.

I'm thinking of them, everyone of them, and their unsolicited trials of mental survival and physical endurance that they had to go through for me and you to be here. They are on my mind with a thought to knowing that "in order to move forward, one must remember the past."

That's a pristine realism that mere utopian whisperings of African-American unity can't be had by only uttering meteorological phrases to the bitter winds of time.

No, freedom is different than "free doom," and there is a difference for those who aren't afraid to come out of the darkness of ignorance.

Just imagining what the ancestors went through throws my mind into a chilly funk because just thinking of how the enslaved Africans were captured and brutalized lets me know that even today Black Lives Matter, no matter the weather or the season.

Are you aware of that as more and more Black youth die by the hour on the byways and highways of this country?

"His-story" does repeat itself, and I sense, as I think about the struggles of today, that so many frigid-minded unaware ethnic "colored" folk, who are living in a modernity time bomb, don't have the academic consciousness of concern to care or know about the Black holocaust and it's systemic affect on us.

It's a shame to see that, but "it is what it is" in the worlds of make belief for some disillusioned "hue-man" beings.

Sometimes, I wonder if being ignorant of self is like being stuck on a isolated plantation in the frozen tundra of stupidity. It makes me think about the ancestors and what they went through, because I wonder about what were they thinking as they were chained and sequestered in the bottom of the colonial ships of hell.

Again, I ask, "Where does one go to find out what they temperature really was like for those innocent and enslaved captives experiencing those tortured Middle Passage cruises to hell and back?"

I have to politely ask that from my mind's eye, because "I'm Still Thinking About The Ancestors."

Even though it's a little nippy outside, the weather surrounding my thinking spheres is one of an intense warmth about loving my ancestors as I feel a closeness to them in ways and norms that I can't explain to you.

It's personal, but I really feel that saying "Never Again!" should poignantly apply to the enslaved Africans, first and foremost.

I know that "his-story" books from the bitter colds of self-inflicted African, European and Arab racism could never erase the horrors of the Middle Passage slave masters' wicked system of American apartheid from the ebony minds of conscious thinkers who know, firsthand, what the effects of this systematic miseducation has done and still does to anyone for the worst, even to those who live in the atmospheric cooling zones of self-denial.


I think of the various ancestors on those slave ships from every tribe and culture who chose to die whether than be made into slaves for no other reason than "I want out of this."

Maybe, freedom in an enslaved mental confine (to them) was something they would not desire to reside nor seek shelter in while trying to evading the presence of a suicidal thought and seeking escape from the slave ships from hell and future realities unknown?

I wonder what happens when the cold, stark reality of no longer being able to see your family or home sits in. Yes, I'm only being real because the evaporating Black family unit is in trouble.

Unity must not be like the changing weather. It should be a constant reality and a permanent state of mind. Black Folks! What are you going to do?

Be warm and keep your cool.

For today and always, that's, "As I See It."

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