#Tie #Names #Stories #Questions: – Last week while coaching at the Craigslist Foundation Bootcamp, I met a Euro-American woman, who told me about the DNA test her Chinese adopted daughter took to learn about her ancestry. The results were surprising to them both. When I returned home later that day I began doing research on agencies who provided this service. Because NY state, like most others, lock their adoption records; most adoptees have no clues to their past beyond what may appear obvious, their hair and skin tone. I thought it would be great if I could find out what tribes and countries could be found in my DNA.

And that idea led me this morning to look up the origin of my “original” birth surname, Lewis. I use quotes around original because many adoptees are lied to about birth dates, circumstances and names, but that’s what I have to work with right now…

My story, the one that seemed to be real to me for most of my life is that I’m African-American with Native American blood, and Jewish ancestry. Spiritually however, I’m tied to everyone and I know in the bigger picture of science, that’s just truth. This story has kept me free and helped me move in/side step the shackles provided to me by my society; the ones I sometimes trip on. You know the ones who til this day have never reflected me in media.

Talk about stories; it’s not just the ones we make up, it’s also the ones we ignore who shape who we are and the society we live in. Although I knew it intellectually, I really didn’t make the conscious connection about what it means to be African-American and live with and pass down the names of your ancestors slave-owners.

I looked up my sure-name Lewis and found it reigns from the Welsh and German. Of course I wasn’t looking for ancestors, or was I. Somehow I thought I’d might find some sort of link, and I did.

That’s when I remembered the truth in the story of why we have to recreate ourselves, sometimes throughout our lives and sometimes, daily. My adoptive mother was West Indian. I knew her name was West Indian, I mean how many folks with the name Pusey do you know? And as it turns out, her name is connected to family in Berkshire, England. This family is not African, and it would be easier to find these original Puseys, than pinning down the vast lines of Lewis. But if I did, then what?

It’s always exciting when I hear about my friends finding relatives in Ireland, or Hungry, or Poland or China; or to hear the stories shared by grandparents about ancestors, great, great grandparents or their treks to the new world, both frightening and the freeing ones. Few of these stories come from African-Americans, most excluding the part about what country, town, or tribe their roots are sprung from.

It’s a story to say our stories are just stories. We are responsible for knowing our truths, all of them, even the hard stuff. Some of the truth is some of us are benefiting from the labors of the grand parents and ancestors of the rest of us. Some of that truth is that our stories begin with us. Some of the truth is, we don’t know what’s true and never will. Some of that truth is today we all eat to varying degrees, food that is grown, picked, packed and shipped by slave laborers, including children; many of which, as we speak are being broken away from their cultures, separated from their families, and imprisoned at the exact time we thank god for our daily bread. Another story is that we create our reality, and to a certain degree I believe this is absolutely true. And if we wanted to end abuse of the families that feed us, we can change their realities by demanding fair and compassionate treatment for them as well as work-visas and education and healthcare for their children. I digress…

The questions that come up for me today are:
What do we do with names we have no connections to/information about?
How are we affected by continuing to carry the names of the people who devastated our line? In anyway one may find devastating.
What do we do with names that don’t serve us and remind us that our names are lost?
What do we do with the stories, any of them that are lies about who we are or where we come from? Especially the ones given to us by others. (This reminds me of how many folks were taught African-American history began and ended with slavery, Native Americans were gone, Latins were new to this country/land and women had intellectual and physical limits that required they not work. All forms of oppression.)
How do we live with the truth of our past while honoring who and how we choose to be today?
How do we live with the lies of our past as we choose freedom from them today?
How do we accept our responsibility in perpetrating the lies of what separate us now? The same lies that separated our ancestors, no matter where they came from, the Lie of one deserving anything over another?

Today I’ll wrestle with the story of absolute majority of African slaves and fewer number of European and Chinese slaves, and any others, who were bought, sold, and brought to this country or taken from their American tribes and stripped of everything including their names. These, the people who built this country, field by field, house by house, road by road, track by track. I’ve wrestled with this before and now I get to see how I can improve the way I work to help others heal and thrive inspire of this story.

How can you help? I’m not sure, but here are some ideas, I bet you have a few as well:
Consider what reparations actually mean. I never really thought about myself before and how can I now. Is it about money? If so, would it even equal the cost of 1 year of our last 9 years of wars? Is not taking a step or action on reparations a racist act? (Heavy topic!)

Sign open records petitions; adoptees have a right to know. Learn more about what it means.

http://www.petitiononline.com/nysarpt1/petition.html

http://www.campaign4openrecords.org/

http://www.babyscoopera.com/M-O-R-E/index.html

When and where possible, connect youth to the stories of where their roots dwell and if possible how they got here. If they are descendents of slave owners, how does that affect their privileges today? The biggest lie that separates many of us is “Black” and “White”, when we begin to understand our roots, we can begin to recognize our common humanity.

Thanks for being with the incomplete thoughts, ideas and challenges in/and with this post. Sometimes you just have to tell your stories before they make sense…

We will not be free until we are all free! We will not be at peace until we are all treated justly, equally and fairly. Freshencounters.org