Sunday, April 22, 2001
'African-American': pride to some, division to others
By Kevin Aldridge
The Cincinnati Enquirer
The topic of race is so complex and difficult to navigate that even a seemingly benign tag like African-American can bear divisive connotations for some.
A group of 19 African-Americans and whites, who recently participated in an Enquirer focus group on race relations and communications, tackled the topic of ethnic labels as a side issue. While many blacks in the group said they see African-American as a way to describe themselves and connect with their African heritage, some whites said they view it as a separatist label that only further divides Americans along racial lines.
I see us all as Americans, says Sharon Hand, a math teacher from Delhi who is white. I don't go around calling myself a European-American or German-American or whatever my heritage may be.
I feel like I'm an American for good or bad, she says. But when the black community continues to insist they are African-Americans, I feel that they are trying to set themselves apart from everybody else and ... it doesn't serve the purpose of bringing us (all) together.
Observing heritage
Yvonne West, 54, of West Chester disagrees. She says the term is a symbol of pride and a way for blacks to observe their ties to both the land in which they were born and the land from which their ancestors came.
The term has appeal because blacks gave the name to themselves, Mrs. West says. It's not about separating from (whites), but recognizing our roots, connecting with our roots.
The term African-American was coined during the 1960s and '70s, but it gained rapid acceptance alongside black later as an expression of a growing, and sometimes defiant, pride in black American culture and its African origins. Black leaders such as Jesse Jackson popularized the term in the late 1980s, and it quickly became accepted in mainstream society.
Like black Americans, other ethnic groups have chosen to emphasize similar ethnic American tags for example, Irish-American and Italian-American to identify themselves as well.
"Why can't we all just be Americans?' We are all just Americans, (but) we grew up differently, says Darryl Erkins, 34, of Colerain Township. Just because we (blacks) assimilated with your (white) culture doesn't mean that we can't celebrate our own.
Willie Williams, 61 of Lincoln Heights, says African-American is just one of many names he has been called in his lifetime.
I've been colored. I've been Negro. I've been black. Those are the labels I've carried, he says.
In colonial times, slaves and freemen were often described by whites as African. During the early to mid-1800's, colored was used by light-skinned children of slaves and planters to distinguish themselves from Africans who worked in the fields.
Sign of unity
In the 1890s, Booker T. Washington argued for the use of the word Negro instead of colored because he thought it would show unity and support for black nationalist ideas.
Negro gave way to Afro-American during the 1920s, and then to black and African-American during the 1960s.
African-American is typically unproblematic when used in polite company, most blacks agree. African-American is most appropriately used in public discourse, as in articles, broadcasts and speeches, where it communicates respect by emphasizing ethnicity over race.
While its use is growing, there is little indication that African-American is poised to push black aside as that term earlier pushed aside Negro. Recent surveys among black Americans showed that while there is widespread acceptance of the term African-American, there is still a strong continued preference for black.
When people ask me what race I am, I say I'm black, not African-American, says Janie Marie Kennedy, 21, of Cumminsville. But it really doesn't make a difference to me which one people use.