“The total liberation and unification of Africa under an All-African Socialist Government must be the primary objective of all Black revolutionaries throughout the world. It is an objective which, when achieved, will bring about the fulfillment of the aspirations of Africans and people of African descent everywhere. It will at the same time advance the triumph of the international socialist revolution, and the onward progress towards world communism, under which, every society is ordered on the principle of –from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” — Osagyefo Kwame Nkrumah

For a short while, the All African People’s Revolutionary Party had the attention of my mother—an American college student with a half-Nigerian daughter. There was an understanding in the AAPRP.  Anti-Blackness and race-based oppression were not solely American problems. They were global in nature, requiring solidarity with all people of African descent. For a while, Pan-Africanism was attractive. Stokely’s words were the melody. Bob Marley’s Exodus the harmony. I was too young to fully understand what they were saying, but I was keenly aware of the fact that many had been inspired by their ideas.

Our time in the AAPRP was short lived. My mother had a strong aversion to marijuana (a smell I also can’t stand) and this proved an impediment to full participation in the group’s social activities. The rhetoric of those days and the accompanying intercultural discourse was steeped in Afrocentric thought. Perhaps it was our own Act 3, a less nuanced conclusion—-one in which Asagai and Beneatha did not end up together. Or maybe it was the transition from student life to the workforce.  I’m not entirely sure. But somewhere along the way, the focus changed and uniting all persons of African descent under a socialist government became less interesting.  The completion of graduate school and embarking on the path to homeownership took priority instead. On one occasion, we made the drive from Redwood City to Oakland to hear “the minister” speak about social uplift, entrepreneurship and…other folks. Bean pies, bow ties and self-sufficiency. 

As a teen, the aforementioned ideologies existed paradoxically alongside a curated appreciation for many products of western civilization—-art, music, culinary traditions and architecture. In high school, however, despite this appreciation, I objected to Western Civilization being the only course offering for advanced students. What did the Habsburgs and De Medicis have to do with me? Why couldn’t I take a class focusing on African Civilizations? Gus Casely-Hayford had yet to produce his riveting series Lost Kingdoms of Africa. But the fact of the matter still remained.  I could take classes—-just not at my school. 

My teacher’s response to this objection was that Western Civilization had contributed most to the development of the world. This made it important. It would take many many years for me to realize that I, too, as an American was both a product of and a part of Western Civilization. Crispus Attucks, Frederick Douglass, the Tuskegee Airmen and the 54th Massachusetts Infantry Regiment were, too. How then could it be that my gaze should be fixed elsewhere?

With an eye toward past injustice, I had bought into the notion that America was irreparably damaged and therefore incapable of living up to its ideals. Despite having deep maternal roots in the American South, blood in the soil, the proud American celebratory stance was reserved for others.

“In the early twentieth century, Lenin proclaimed that socialism was an anti-colonialist project, whereas capitalism allied itself with imperialism — and by 1945, most African intellectuals believed it. Allegedly, socialism would “reverse poverty” and create a new, thriving Africa. Except it didn’t. Decades of socialist policies didn’t bring prosperity to our people.”

                                              — Magatte Wade

As a young college student, I found myself becoming more conservative. A conversion to Christianity (from ardent religious pluralism) had much to do with this process. I began to take notice of community thought patterns, expectations and outcomes. The soft-bigotry of low expectations would rear its ugly head and serve as a catalyst for the introduction of new ideas and possibilities. Words like agency, initiative and resilience were incorporated into my vocabulary. The pages of Black Enterprise magazine inspired me. In spite of racism, these men and women were doing BIG things. They were seizing opportunities and flourishing in the freedom America offered. They were not oppressed. They were thriving. 

Along the way, I met allies—people who had witnessed the real world implementation of Lenin and Marx-inspired ideas. They bore witness to disastrous outcomes. 

“There is nothing new under the sun.”

—Ecclesiastes 1:9

There really isn’t. Many of the ideas so readily embraced today have been tried before and found wanting. It isn’t that they haven’t been implemented firmly enough or well enough. The problem is that they simply do not work.