Journey On
Am I the descendent of an Honored King or Tribal Chief Did my ancestors die fighting to save me when we were sold like cattle into captivity
I was not there How could I know lest word or deed tell me so
Half of what you see None of what you hear This is what we were taught to believe But what about what I feel
How many were dragged into the sea linked in chains to the one who chose death over inhumanity I don’t want to live if I’m not free!
Now their empty, rusted, shackles adorn the ocean floor But their spirits live on in you and in me
The elders sang, we are the seeds, and we are the soil of our ancestors So we must be strong Through us they will live on
The soft, white cotton was so beautiful But surrounded by the teeth of many lions Each bud was stained with blood Plant after plant, row after row ‘til crying out loud I can take no more!
Journey on
From the cradle of civilization to the worst humiliation Branding irons, whips, and chains to break my will and twist my brain
Finally, a President proclaimed This isn’t right. Emancipate!
But those words alone didn’t end the horror Hung in a tree for my children to see Frozen in fear, to never forget Is PTSD their birthright
And then we were told You can’t eat here Ride in the back Same water Different fountain Same red blood But your skin is black
One King said, We’re still not free! Follow me, I’ll demonstrate
Has the price not been paid From slave ship decks To knees on our necks
From the soil of my village and the bottom of the sea From the cotton fields and that balcony in Memphis the blood of my ancestors cries out to me
Live proud. Live free. Don’t let nothin’ turn you around! Don’t walk around with your head hung down!
Even now standing on the shoulders of kings We can see we are still not free There are too many ropes in too many trees Too many bullets, and too many knees
Journey on
I had forgotten who I was until the night sky reminded me The same sky my ancestors gazed upon Imagining the world I would inherit Judged not by color, but by merit
I may be the son of a King or Chief I am descended from a strong, unbroken line Survivors of injustice and brutality The sons and daughters of a nobility
This is what I feel What I’ve been feeling for so long in my search for identity A sense of heritage, pride, and family I feel proud when I think of my ancestors
I want to feel proud when I sing “My country tis of thee, sweet land of liberty” I want to believe that it’s true I want to take pride in the country that was built on the backs of my ancestry
I am African, I am American My roots are in Africa and America I am African-American
We don’t have names on fancy headstones And if I never find out who my ancestors were the fact that I am here tells me that they were an awe-inspiring people And because of them, I am encouraged and inspired to
Journey on
Charles E. DeBerry 2021
