There are moments in history where we have seen footage of children in Africa, portrayed as poor and in great need with very minimal resources. Often in those same images, we may see t-shirts with pictures of celebrated American musicians, actors and rappers. For me personally, I often wondered how our shirts and cds have reached these regions of the earth but the resources that support ending of cyclic poverty and enable sustained livelihoods, often do not. These images portray children who "see" Americans, even study and give us their undivided attention, but I am not sure we give them the same courtesy. When I speak of "we", I am not just referring to Americans but one step in a more personal directions, I am speaking of African Americans.
I was standing in the lunch room as a graduate student at a university in Scotland. On the front page of the Scotsman newspaper was a picture of a baby crying and extremely thin in size displaying malnutrition. The article highlighted a crisis in Ethiopia in the summer of 2011 which was the result of drought. The child on the front of the newspaper was the same color as I, originiated from the same continent as I and had a valued life like mine. I decided at that moment that this child was not another casualty of war or extreme poverty, he or she was not another neglected starving African child that needed me to send a few dollars a month to help keep alive, this little baby was my cousin...a child of my lineage and family. I thought I could understand them looking into a face that did not have the same features, bone structure or color as theirs and be ignored but if they looked into my face, they would not understand me looking the other way. The interesting part is that quite often the face that does not look like theirs, does not look away and instead loves, holds, nurtures and makes them stronger. Too often my face is actually not even seen by those little eyes, they don't even know I looked away.
I decided at that moment to stand stronger in the African proverb, " It takes a village to raise a child", and physically carry that photo in my notebook so that my cousin would not be overlooked and I could more directly advocate for their life. This was a monumental moment where I decided that I would no longer look away and begin a strategic journey so that his or her little eyes would see our faces and that our eyes would see theirs.
I believe that many African Americans do not see these images with understanding and do not know the depth of what is going on in the country of Africa that we celebrate as our origin. The truth is, some do know...and do not care...we cannot do much about them....but there are many more that do care and we who do will stand in agreement for justice, true change and revival. If we know the truth of what is happening, we...and the little ones...will be made free. John 8:32.
We see you little ones....here we come.
