The other day was Black Awareness Day and I actually stopped to ask myself what that was exactly. I watched a woman on the television, President of a Black movement, talking about the importance of that day to black people in Brazil and how much work there was to do to improve public awareness and racism, especially regarding public policies. It all seemed like such nonsense to me.
Black people have lost a war against themselves, not against other races. Other races are just patiently waiting for blacks to get their act together or simply don´t give a damn. The world is cruel, people are cruel, sometimes even in their own country, but when faced with the ^enemy^ they usually stick together, and that is not the case with the black race.
I refuse to accept things like Afro-American, Afro-descendent, and find it insulting that people from my own race actually promote those ^politially correct^ labels . In the Americas, we are all from ^somewhere else^ and labels should have been abolished years ago, not created!
In Brazil, white people are not racist, they are prejudiced against blacks. What is the difference? Well, if you are racist you hate someone because they are from a different race or ethnic group. White Brazilians do not hate jews, asians, muslims or anyone else for that matter. So why are they prejudiced against blacks? Because most of them have had bad experiences with blacks. Others simply do not like the way blacks live or behave. And then there are people so simply do not admire blacks like they do the asians, for example.
Another reason is that the history of blacks has made them hate themselves. No white man will ever know the feeling of burning under black skin when a black man becomes suddenly aware of what he represents to others. The feeling a little black girl has in an all-white party when no white boy wants to kiss her. Blacks feel this everyday and do nothing about it.
Yes, I know our race has suffered. I know slavery ripped the black man of his identity and beauty, of his name, his feeling of belonging to something, to his race. Blacks in the Americas were forced to adopt other religions in order to be accepted by another race and ended up with nothing except a shell-like existence and a bible. The beauty of being black to the black man has almost gone, almost dimmed into nothing. If he is not accepted, he feels he is nothing. He is like an orphan of himself.
There is the music, the dancing, the free spirit. the physical strength, all the beautiful things have been acknowledged and used by the other races, but not by the blacks. To them, it comes naturally and they underestimate just how important these qualities are. Where would we be without the influence of black people on music? If it weren´t for them, people would still be doing those funny dances to chamber music (nothing against it).
My father was always very proud of his heritage, but not of his people. He wore hats and jewellery that were gifts from this friends in Congo, Senegal, and other countries he visited during his travels. In Brazil, only white people would ask him about the origin of this outfits, while black people would look the other way in shame. My question is, how can we enforce awareness on something we know nothing about? How can we complain about something we have not managed to overcome? Beats me.