These  pieces by four Nigerian-American Teenagers were presented as part of a youth contest at the African Chritian Fellowship summer camp in Louisville, KY on Saturday August 5, 2006. What's your own story of being African in America?

My name tells a story.  What story does yours tell? -Seye Awoniyi

So we’ve all been there.  First day of school, substitute teacher, work, even our every day lives.  We’ve all been through it.  We sit there, watching the individual with the list of names, just awaiting the look of panic and the pre-apology for mispronouncing our name.  We know that they are about to butcher our names, so we raise our hands quickly, so in an effort to prevent both our embarrassment as well as theirs.  What does it mean to be African in America? Well, it means many things.  But one thing that I believe is constantly overlooked is our names. What’s in a name?

      Due to the constant mispronunciation of our names, we are forced to do four things.  One, we begin to go by nicknames.  My best friend growing up had the last name Ayarinola.  The unforgiving students called him granola bar until the day he graduated.  For a long time, instead of calling me by my last name, Awoniyi, I was called ADub, AW, and A&W rootbeer, Awana-eat, I wanna wewe. The only thing that they have in common is that they all start with an A.  Close, but not quite. I guess with nicknames it helps the individual over compensate for their lack of pronunciation ability.

      Second, we go by the meaning of our names.  My good friend, Ifedayo, went by love all through middle school.  Good thing her name was not Joke.

      Third, it forces us to get tired of cringing every time our name is slaughtered and we just begin to pronounce it however it will make it easy for them to say.  Tomi become Tomy, Lara to Laura. Will it ever end?  I have to say, though, out of all these, the fourth is the worst.

      We change our names all together.  For the first ten years of my life, I was called Seye, or rather Sheya as the average American pronounced it.  Then after that, I began to be called Mary.  Now to the African community, I’m Seye, but to everyone else, I’m Mary.  And you all know exactly what I’m talking about.  How many Graces or Josephs do you know?

      Through my short life, I have begun to realize what slowly happens to us when we change our names in order to accommodate others.  We slowly being to conform.  We slowly being to forget who we are in hopes of making them happy.  Although it is merely a minute change, our name is our identity.  Our name is who we are.

      19 years ago, Funso Awoniyi gave birth to her second daughter.  This child almost did not make it; there were doubts concerning not only her survival, but a successful birth as well.  But after labor that lasted for what felt like forever, the proud mother was able to hold her baby in her arms.  She named that baby Oluwaseye.  Oluwaseye.  God has done this.  God has done this.  Not Nancy, not Beth, not Jessica, but God has done this, Oluwaseye.

      True, being an African in America means that my name is constantly slaughtered.  Yes, it means that I constantly have to just shrug off the fact that at times it feels like the individual is not even trying to pronounce my name correctly.  But you know what?  It also means that I am unique.  It means that my name is a large part of who I am.  It means that my name not only represents me, but it represents my family, my people, and the struggles that we have overcome.  It means that my name is part of something bigger than I am.  It means that my name is well, it’s my name.  And I take pride in that.  Oluwaseye.  Oluwaseye.  God has done this.  God, has done this.  My name tells a story.  What story does yours tell?

Seye Awoniyi 19
US Army 

To Be Great is To be an African - James Odetunde

Ladies, and Gentlemen, I want to begin by saying thank you for the opportunity to address you today. I assure you that the words that I will evoke have been of heavy laden upon mind. Retrospectively speaking, one could say these words have been waiting to spew out of me since the day I stepped foot on this much venerated country, which we know as America. An Africans experience in America is not one necessarily a question understood by many. Being an African in America is an experience which encompasses infinite and complex contours. As I ponder the complexities of such an experience, I think to myself, what are those specific experiences which are intrinsic and unique to all Africans throughout America. I am reminded of a very specific experience which has been popularly asserted, by a rather prominent black leader-- the great W.E.B Dubois. Dubois speaks of the black experience in America, being one which incorporates an idea of double consciousness. The basis of this double consciousness concept is that the black man is born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world,--a world which yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation-- this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his twoness,--an American, a black man; two warring souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.

      The experience of an African in America is one which incorporates the history of this strife,--this longing to attain self-conscious manhood, to merge one’s double self into a better and truer self; a complete and unified body, not an African and an American—but an African through and through. Simultaneous with this individual idea of being an African, comes a will, a drive to succeed and succeed beyond comprehension. Thus I say this, being an African in American necessitates adjectives which describe precisely said drive of Africans through the American economy. Being an African in America involves the need and desire to DREAM, to be DIFFERENT, AND the DETERMINATION to succeed.

      Thus-- equipped with such drive and determination, an African in America must meet trouble squarely in the face. Africans lift their chin and set their shoulders when such trouble seems a perpetual burden. Even when it is vain to attempt to dodge trials and tribulations, Africans must do the best they can to conquer those troubles. There is no doubt in my mind, that there may be failures through these expeditions but Africans will conquer in the end. Naturally in an alien society, there are often black clouds about—consequently, making the future to appear rather grim. Nevertheless an African remains persistent in the fight, even though he knows the worst is yet come. While hope may seem futile, When these troubles are beset, an African remembers I am facing just what other Africans have met. Though one may fail, being African in America is to fall while still fighting; Eyes front, head high to the finish.

It must go without saying, success is always in the future of an African in America. Through all the trials and tribulations in an Africans experience, others are bound to stand and look upon the African with high esteem. The words will come flowing out of their mouths, and they will say:

There goes an individual of high impulse, of princely mien and grace.

There is an African of humble faith, a credit to his race.

There is an African of conscious vast, with will to reach his goal. There goes a man of who has been placed above all else upon the earth.

There is an African of noble cast whom hardship cannot break.

There is an individual in who is clad with merits, which duty won't forsake.

There goes an African of culture verse, who holds a sportsman's creed.

There goes an individual too vigilant to bow to lust or greed.

There goes an individual whose life is spent in service, not in scorn.

There goes an African whose majesty shines like a may time morn.

There goes an individual who is a friend to love and truthful to duty.

There goes an African to help uplift the lives of wholesome youth.

There goes an individual with industry and faith at his command.

THERE is the best individual in or out for HE is an African.

James Odetunde

     What it means to be an African in America? The constant questions, if I lived on trees or huts when I was in Africa, or the anxious look on a new teachers face when he or she approaches your name on a list? And my personal favorite, did your hair grow over night?

    I came to America in May 2003. Living in Nigeria you’re told so many things about America, you would think America is a place where roads are made of gold and money grows on trees. Don’t get me wrong America does provide a lot of opportunities, but with hard work and determination. The African view of America is tragically over Exaggerated.

    My first year in America was my hardest. Adapting to the accent, having to make new friends, and adjusting to different cultures and beliefs were just a few of my primary obstacles. One of the toughest decisions I had to make, when filling out an application, was whether to be know as African America, or fill out the “other” section and put down African.

    I see being an African in America is like trying to sit on two chairs at the same time. First you have that African chair the one you’re born with and rooted in. And then there’s the American chair, the one you usually sit in when you’re around your peers. Many people including me sometimes abandon that African chair and sit on America chair ignoring their African up bringing forgetting that they can never really erase who they are and will always have to come back to their roots. However, there are those who cling to the African chair and won’t welcome change and never try new things. 

    The best thing is to be able to balance both chairs in your life, for me personally I sit on both chairs every day. I hang out with my friends, we go to the movies, and the mall. I still respect my elders, I still speak my native language and I’m not afraid to tell anyone, when asked, where I’m from to say Nigeria Africa. The important thing is don’t forget who you are and where you’re from and always be welcome to change because this way you get the best of both worlds, the African culture and the America way of life. And that is what it means to be an African in America.

Vanessa Omeokachie - 15
Louisville

By us Africans coming together, we can impact society by being a voice for social change. - Oluwatooni Akanni

      African immigrants in America are faced constantly with stereotypes and discrimination not only by white-Americans but also by African-Americans. The tension and hostility between African-Americans and African immigrants is rapidly increasing. With the use of media and the news, the term African has become a stigma. Not only are Africans portrayed as savages but they’re looked upon as shameful. Because of the bad conceptions of Africans, when they do eventually come into the United States, they are treated the exact same way the media portrays them, which are in negative terms.

      The level of the stereotypes placed upon African immigrants can vary from one region of Africa to another.  For example, in Northern Africa, the majority is of Arab descent, when they do come to America, they are faced with more discrimination and racism especially after 9/11.

      Another stereotype that most Americans assume of Africans is that we are illiterate and uncivilized. For example, when I first came to America, most of my teachers and classmates were very surprised and shocked that I spoke good English.

      It is not always an easy transition for African immigrants when they come to America because they find that they are being forced to confront complex issues of identity, ethnicity, and community. Personally, as a Nigerian immigrant, it was very difficult for me to balance both my cultures and the American culture. I wasn’t accepted by most Nigerians due to the fact that I can’t speak Yoruba as well as others. It was very difficult for me to develop and maintain effective interpersonal relationships with both cultures.

      Although I believe that my Nigerian culture and my American culture both have an impact on who I am as an individual, it sometimes seemed as if I had to choose between one culture or the other. When hanging out with certain individuals, I had to change the way I talked and the way I present myself. Bringing my friends over to the house was a big problem because I was very terrified of what my parents might say.

      African immigrants who bring their culture into the American society are culturally competent because they appreciate and internalize the basic beliefs of their given culture. Unfortunately, when African immigrants do settle into American society, they tend to lose their cultural identity because  they want to fit into the society. As a result, they focus on what they have in common with most Americans rather how different their cultures are.

      By us Africans coming together, we can impact society by being a voice for social change. Society needs to realize that the conceptions that have been placed upon African immigrants through the Media are incorrect and unethical. African immigrants are individuals just like anyone else and they should be treated equally and fairly. 

Oluwatooni Akanni 18
Twin Cities, MN