Morgan Jerkins Heads Down South in Search of Her Black Identity


WANDERING IN STRANGE LANDS
A Daughter of the Great Migration Reclaims Her Roots
By Morgan Jerkins

At occasions I’ve puzzled how useful introspection is in relation to defining Black id. As minorities in extremely racialized societies, we’ve by no means had the posh of not fascinated by our Blackness.

It’s whiteness that has loved the poisonous mixture of being each weaponized and but invisible. This — the apparent reasoning goes — is the id that ought to command our consideration now.

But Morgan Jerkins’s newest guide, “Wandering in Strange Lands,” is a mesmerizing reminder that this divide between Black and white is a false binary. On the premise of reconnecting her Northern id to its Southern roots, Jerkins embarks on a journey that’s something however direct, or easy. Instead the story of her private heritage, and its erasure inside her circle of relatives, reveals the reductive energy of the white gaze to flatten the complexities of Black lineage. “I existed in that Black-white binary,” Jerkins writes, “because it was easier.”

[ Read an excerpt from “Wandering in Strange Lands.” ]

Jerkins divides her heritage up geographically: the Lowcountry of Georgia and South Carolina, Creole Louisiana, Oklahoma and at last Los Angeles, revealing their distinct however overlapping phenomena of enslavement, emancipation, multiculturalism and migration. In every nook of the nation she seeks to unveil her ancestors’ secrets and techniques with the assistance of native historians and activists, who in flip share their very own.

Hers is a journey that exists on the crossroads of a lot up to date evaluation of the African-American expertise. A backward path by way of Isabel Wilkerson’s “The Warmth of Other Suns”; the story of white passing in Brit Bennett’s novel “The Vanishing Half”; the pain and power of water as it carries Black people both toward and away from slavery in Ta-Nehisi Coates’s “The Water Dancer”; the ingenuity of traditional African rootwork and healing practices in Jesmyn Ward’s “Sing, Unburied, Sing.”

Like these other masterly recent works, “Wandering in Strange Lands” is in many ways a quintessentially American story, one that posits the South as a motherland where, as Beyoncé recently declared, one’s “roots ain’t watered down.”

Yet it’s the African continent — whose presence is woven subtly throughout her prose — that becomes Jerkins’s unmistakable ancestral hinterland. From the cultural and spiritual practices of the Lowcountry’s Gullah Geechee communities, to Creole superstitions whose traces Jerkins detects even in her New Jersey upbringing, the question that hovers over this work is an ancient one: How much Africa is there still in African-American identity?

It’s a question Black Americans have and will continue to ask themselves, but as Jerkins reminds us, the parallels between American and other Black diasporic experiences are unmistakable. She could have drawn them out more, though: how the systematic degrading of oral traditions dislocates memory; the uneasy juxtaposition of non-Western spirituality and Christianity; the abandonment of local foods according to Eurocentric notions of nutrition. All of the above have harmed Black people wherever white colonization took place.

As has the glamorization of plantations, across the American South and the Caribbean, as synonymous with luxury white housing and tourism, rather than as sites of crimes against humanity. This is one of the many profound injustices Jerkins describes powerfully yet accessibly. Her writing has a light touch as it takes on subjects like land dispossession, punitive taxation, a lack of public services, and environmental contamination, blending them seamlessly with the tastes of couche-couche, chitlins and crawfish étouffée.

The tone of the book feels as meandering as its subject matter, verging on repetitive at times; but Jerkins herself confesses her task is Sisyphean. She has a gift for turning circular stories of identity into something conclusive: a “disentanglement of Black ethnic identity as it twists and turns under the powers and laws of white supremacy.”

Her task is also courageous. Jerkins approaches territory that is taboo even in Black circles: the complexities of caste and colorism within Creole culture, the denial of Black claims to citizenship in Native nations, even the fraught question of whether it was possible for sex between master and slave to be consensual.

Jerkins makes plain that denying space for Black identities in history is itself a legacy as American as its original sins of racism and enslavement. By exploring the truth of that past with such integrity, this memoir enriches our future.



Source link Nytimes.com

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