As each day passes on my husband’s week long sojourn to the Motherland, I can’t help but feel envy and excitement- wonder and awe at the beauty that he gets to behold in the land of our ancestors. I anxiously await his FaceTime calls to get a tiny glimpse of the majesty of South Africa. I wait like a child who has never met its mother- who was abandoned long ago, but still hopeful that one day they may be reunited. There is a part of my spirit that longs to be fully accepted by a people I don’t know, in a land that is foreign to me. The only memory or connection that remains is that through blood.

He shared with me that their hosts greeted them with a Wakandan induction of being welcomed and crowned, a ceremony that had a jovial light hearted nature to it while teetering on the edge of being a profoundly moving experience. It makes my heart rejoice that he felt welcomed in that manner by complete strangers- nearly 10,000 miles away. To feel apart of a community can be the catalyst for positive change where as rejection can lead to self- destruction. There’s an African proverb that states, “The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth.” As African- Americans we know the feeling of not being embraced by either land. We know how it feels to be lost somewhere in between worlds.

As a proud American who loves my homeland in the states- sadly “SHE” has not always loved me. As an African- American I have tasted the bitter fruit of neither land (Africa or America) fully accepting this “half-breed.” Like, the mixed child forced to pick a side in two polar opposite worlds that may not always be proud to claim them. However, not feeling like you fully fit in anywhere can oddly enough cause you to learn how to fit in everywhere. It is a coping mechanism designed out of the need to survive. Balancing between worlds who don’t know how to fully claim you can feel like you’re a bastard child literally and figuratively. Our forefathers both Black and White abandoned us there and here- while our mothers in both places cried tears waiting for our return.

Sometimes I feel like we are the lost tribes wandering through the desert in a foreign land. But, is it truly foreign if we helped to build it with our blood, sweat, and tears? We have no memories of the cradle of civilization, but we have memories of the horrors in the civilization that was forced upon us- that was anything but civil. How can we love either nation where one abandoned us and the other enslaved us? Dr. Khalid Muhammad said, “Have you forgotten that once we were brought here, we were robbed of our names, robbed of our language, we lost our religion, our culture, our God; and many of us, by the way we act, we have even lost our minds!” So much has been lost in both lands, but can we ever truly be found?

I suppose to be found is to know that you were once lost. To be found is to understand that through all the horrors of the past and even the present that there is still light in all people of all ethnicities and nationalities. It is to know that your past doesn’t determine your future and that African- American people are some of the most resilient and fabulous people on the planet! We continue through our pain to show grace, mercy, and forgiveness despite the cards that we have been dealt. We continue to succeed and shine in the face of adversity and make miracles out of the scraps we were given. The definition of lost denotes something that had been taken away or cannot be recovered. There will always be “ancestors” that are willing to welcome us “home”, as they did for my husband. But, remember that home is where the heart is. As much as I can’t wait to see the many nations of Africa one day- America will always be where my heart is. After all, she is my home for better or for worse. And regardless of the dark past, I’m proud of my heritage both African and European. It makes me who I am- no matter the circumstances of how that came to be. But, most importantly I’m proudest to be an African- American and a child of God! So one day when I finally go to visit my other homeland, I hope they recognize me, because no one can be lost forever.

Speaking Frankly,

Janay Durand Frank