Finding Your Roots

I've just been skimming over the public library's list of new books and came across a non-fiction called In Search of Our Roots: How 19 Extraordinary African Americans Reclaimed Their Past by Gates, Henry Louis, Jr. I read the publisher's (Crown Publishing Group, NY) excerpt on the material and came across a mind-opening statement. It is something that I, as a white American, have never been forced to think about...yet occasionally have sympathized with, having a partial European Jewish heritage. Here is the section that really made me think:

Unlike most white Americans who, if they are so inclined,
can search their ancestral records, identifying who among
their forebears was the first to set foot on this country's
shores, most African Americans, in tracing their family's past,
encounter a series of daunting obstacles. Slavery was a
brutally efficient nullifier of identity, willfully denying black men
and women even their names.

Even though I haven't yet tackled the family tree to trace my ancestry, I cannot imagine not having access to such simple facts. Names. Countries of origin. Wars involved. Immigration waves. Diseases and illnesses. And the more intricate details that come with them: cultural pride, heritage, recipes, songs, stories, and most importantly, that feeling of being connected, knowing where you came from.

I am sorry for any of the people in our country who are unable to reach back into time and discover their roots, for our histories and the histories of our bloodlines are part of what make us who we are. How many times do kids and adults have conversations with their peers about which nationality they are, where their grandparents came from, which recipes they learned from their moms, who learned from their moms, who learned from their moms?

Just think about it a little...have sympathy - and empathy - for those around you who may secretly be struggling to figure out who they really are.