Know Your History. Tell the Truth.

Since the airing of “Light Girls” on the OWN network, questions and comments about race, ethnicity and identity have ranged from vulgar to just plain offensive especially as it pertains to the segment focusing on Amber Rose and her story about family members not attending her wedding because she was marrying an African-American. The documentary is the second from Bill Duke focusing on the issue of colorism in the Black community.

Amber Rose, of Cape Verdean and Italian descent spoke about struggling with colorism within her family her whole life; ” With my family, they feel they are more superior than African American because we’re Creole and we have culture and it’s something I’ve battled with most of my life”.  This single statement sparked controversy among African Americans and Cape Verdeans, although for different reasons. People immediately took to social media to put their two cents in about “those Cape Verdeans playing white among among themselves” (Actual Facebook comment) .

Here’s an example of comments made;

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“Mutt” was thrown around quite a bit in these posts. And, apparently, many people agreed; notice the 16 likes as of the night this episode aired. What was it exactly that sparked this kind of rage toward Cape Verdeans? Was it that she used the words “superior” or “culture”? Was it because she was “airing our dirty laundry”? Was it because she participated in an honest dialog about an experience that had a profound affect on her life? After all, this was a documentary focusing on the experience of light skinned black women. Was what she said more hateful than the story told by a dozen other women on the same program? What I heard was a story very similar to my own and my reaction was quick and immediate in response to the ignorant comments I read.

In response to this gem

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I posted;

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And then there’s this;

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To which I responded;

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I found myself defending my “Capeverdean-ness” to strangers on Facebook. What was most interesting is that I didn’t have many rebuttals to the points I was making. I was armed with knowledge, prepared for a fight, but quickly found that the other side retreated with tail between legs. All I did was speak the truth.

I’ve always had a descent amount of awareness in who I was and my identity. Since beginning my genealogical research, my awareness has become an unwavering confidence.

I’ve studied thousands of vital and immigration records. And staring back at me was the story of resilience and survival. I am a descendant of people who lived under the system of slavery and colonialism for over 500 years. I have also had to reconcile facts that include ancestors who owned slaves and who may have been active participants in the Atlantic Slave Trade. In many ways, Cape Verdean history has similarities to African American history. The inception of the “creole” population began with the enslavement and exploitation of African women by their European masters. This is an undeniable fact.

The product of this is a genetically diverse population who created a culture that preserved traditions brought over from the African mainland, as well as, those of the very Europeans who were our oppressors. There were attempts to “water it down” by mixing more European blood. But we held steadfast to our “Caboverdeanidade”. They banned us from using our Criolu language but we ardently held on to our language and it is spoken in Cape Verdean homes all over the world. In defiance of ordinances against writing our language, our ancestors wrote and composed in Criolu. Our music was banned but the drumbeat of the Batuku and Tabanka continue to run through our veins. We were left to die during the most brutal droughts and famines but still we survived.

How could I not be proud to call myself a Cape Verdean?

Unfortunately, there are too many among us who don’t know about this history because it has been whitewashed by others who felt it was their duty to tell us who and what we are. Our greatness has been replaced by self-doubt and insecurities that has allowed untruths to be put on us and caused divisions to the extant that we no longer remember who we are. How dare we allow the memory and experience of our ancestors die in vain?

We were told by others that because we had their blood we were different. We were used as middle-men in the Atlantic slave trade. The key word is used. We received no gains. We were made to believe that we had a seat at the table when in reality we were used to as door mats. We were made to believe that our worth was based on our hue. Again, we received no gains. We were just sold at a higher cost. We were made to believe that Africa had no greatness, yet it was Africa that ran through our veins.

When all else failed, the divide and conquer strategy was used in the attempt to make us forget our greatness. Rather than being destroyed by the guns of our enemies we allowed divisiveness within our own families and communities. They couldn’t divide us by banning basic elements of our identity like music and language. Instead color has been used to redirect our hostility toward each other rather than direct it toward the actual reasons for inequities within our society.

Throughout our 500 year history, those of our ancestors who realized their greatness fought back. Rebelados were transported to different islands because they realized our strength in part was in our numbers. Where Caboverdeanos realized that our identity could be preserved in our stories and our language we began to write and compose in Crioulo. When we were left to die during numerous droughts and famines, our courageous ancestors risked their own lives to travel to foreign lands to find a way to take care of their families. Staring back at me in the volumes of records were these truths!

Slavery and colonialism is recorded in history through the eyes of those who were in power. It’s seldom told in the voice of those who lived under its shackles. In Cape Verde, vital records only go back to the early 1800’s. What wasn’t lost from natural disasters have been intentionally destroyed, I believe, with the intention of keeping us mentally oppressed and lost to our identity. Just another attempt to make us forget our “caboverdeanidade”. Amilcar Cabral not only fought a war of guns, but more importantly, of the mind. He understood that we needed to preserve our records not just to tell the story of the struggle for independence to later generations but, in essence, to remember the core of what it meant to be a Caboverdeano.

So why is colorism still dividing us. Do we still not remember our greatness?

As a researcher of Cape Verdean genealogy, I realize that I have a responsibility to try to help preserve the memory of these people and their experiences. Regardless of status, color or origin, our caboverdeanidade is rooted in the history of all the people in Cape Verde. As I said in my response to the Facebook posting, I never imagined that I would be perceived as denying our African-ness by trying to “discover and, more importantly, tell the truth about our history”. When I write here about our ancestors experiences, I did not refer to skin color because, in truth, our ancestors were of all shades and phenotypes. Some were considered white, others black, and still others where identified by numerous classifications.

We are descendants of Fulani, Bantu, Yorubas and Mandinkans who were enslaved and forced to endure unspeakable brutalities. We are also descendants of Sephardi and Ashkenazi Jews who were persecuted, imprisoned, and exiled because of their religious beliefs. Ironically, even the descendants of the slave masters who remained in Cape Verde quickly assumed the Cape Verdean identity. It’s safe to assume that the truths in the words of this paragraph are the root of the colorism that continues to affect our culture.

The descendants of these people married each other, had children and built homes with each other. But the legacy of colorism left by the colonizers hasn’t been easy to extinguish. When we realize that it was nothing more than a tool used to make us forget our greatness it becomes possible to allow us to measure ourselves in terms other than color. When we begin to understand the truth of our history and that our skin colors have been used against us we might actually begin to remember our greatness and pass THIS on to our children.

I would be remiss if I didn’t remind everyone that people died for our right to call Cabo Verde an African country. We are Africans with a rich and multicultural heritage that I believe is embraced by our “caboverdeanidade”. It’s important that we make distinctions between race, culture and ethnicity. Race is a social construct used to divide. Culture is what holds us together. Ethnicity is in the DNA that we can never deny.

In the end, Amber’s “airing out” of our dirty laundry should be used as an opportunity to continue the conversation about race, culture and ethnicity in Cape Verdean communities around the world. Let’s not be afraid to know our history and to tell the truth.
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=IzxJql1roLk

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Serenata de Amor- a gift to be shared #52 ancestors

The first time I saw Dr. Claire Andrade-Watkins’ film, “Serenata de Amor”, I immediately sent her a message thanking her for putting on screen the story of my ancestors. To see with my eyes a story I have visualized time and time again as I’ve dug through thousands of immigration records was nothing less than emotionally moving and satisfying. Those names listed as the “nearest family from where you came” are usually the wives, known as American widows. What was it like for the American widow and the families left behind?

The opening scene begins with the strumming of a guitar as two men play ouril, also known as “ouring” or mancala. This game was typically played with tamarind seeds. The first evidence of this game being played comes as early as the 7th century in Ethiopia. As the two are playing, “Djedje” played by Benvindo Cruz, is holding a picture of Laura, the object of his unrequited love, to his chest as he stares up at her window.

Among the men gathered are the Miranda brothers; sons of famed Cape Verdean musician and composer Jose Miranda, known as Josezinho. Joao, Napoleon and Ney Miranda continue to preserve the memory and the music of their father through performances around New England and abroad, as well as, by passing down the family tradition to Josezinho’s grandsons, Domenic and Craig, who are also featured in this film. The men encourage Djedje to serenade Laura.

Djedje begins to sing “Wake up, Laura. Open your window. Come listen to this morna that comes from heaven. The world doesn’t want us to be happy. You are mine. I love you so much” (my translation). Laura’s shadow can be seen behind the curtain of her window just as her grandmother comes to the window immediately spewing insults at Djedje. She threatens to kill Laura if she even tries to come to the window because she will marry an “embarkadia”, someone who’s traveled from abroad, who has a good family name… and fat pigs. While my criteria for a life partner may differ a bit, it gives us a glimpse of the priorities of that time.

Just short of fifteen minutes, Serenata de Amor (Serenade of Love) packs a lifetime of experiences, memories, joy, pain and love against a backdrop of the melodies of mornas I grew up listening to. There are so many stories intertwined in this piece dealing race, class, immigration, and family dynamics, to name a few.

Watching the story of the other side of the Cape Verdean migration history unfold in the scenes with the grandmother, portrayed by Ana Joia, hit home the most for me. Whether on a whaling ship or schooner, the people who braved the trip across the Atlantic left family behind. We don’t often hear about the “American widows”, like Laura’s grandmother or my great-grandmother. These were the wives who were left behind as their husbands worked abroad, often sending money and materials to build homes they would one day return to. This was the case with my great-grandparents. My family lived in the home built with resources my great-grandfather sent to Cham de Sousa. The house was meant to be a two level sobrado that would never be fully completed due to his untimely death.

As the grandmother stands outside her home, she remembers Casimiro, her lost love. The scene turns to a younger woman dancing with Casimiro dressed in a naval uniform. This part brought me immediately back to a memory of my great-grandmother, Bibi, telling the story about the day she watched my great-grandfather, Avelino Rodrigues, board the schooner, Volante, in February, 1923. They had only been married for two months before he would board the ship headed for America. And it would be the very last time she would see him. He died in a factory accident in Waterbury, Connecticut on June 26, 1929.

Bibi’s own mother, Rosa Goncalves, was an “American widow” as her husband, Antonio Coelho, lived and worked in the Fox Point neighborhood of Providence, Rhode Island. Rosa’s mother, Carolina da Lomba and Rosa’s grandmother, Anjelica Pires, were also “American widows”. Five generations of women, including my grandmother, held the fabric of our family together as my ancestors came to America. I am the person I am because of them. They are my heroes.

Dr Andrade-Watkins said in an interview with Sodadeonline.com, that “I do this for the older generations, it’s part of their memory and they have entrusted me as a steward”. She also told me that “Serenata” is a gift to be shared. We may come away with different memories and stories our ancestors passed down through the generations. Each of these memories pay homage to these people and we should continue to tell their stories for the generations who will come after us. Enjoy this film and share this gift with others.

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An explanation of DNA testing for genealogy

DNA testing for genealogy has been very popular, lately, as a tool to delve further into ones family tree. In 2011, I had my mitochondrial DNA or mtDNA tested, as well as, autosomal testing through FamilytreeDNA.com.

Mitochondrial testing is useful in tracing one’s maternal line to its origin. Mitochondrial information is found in our cells and passed from mother to child. This information doesn’t change making it possible to trace our maternal lines.
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In this chart, the maternal information is passed from a mother to a son and daughter. The daughter can pass the mitochondrial information to her son and daughter but the son does not. In other words, for me to get mtDNA information for my mother’s maternal line, my brothers and I could have taken the mtDNA test. My daughter and my son can take the test to get the same information but by brother’s children can’t because they could pass the mtDNA information on to their children.

Ydna testing is done to trace male inheritance. Only males can take this test as Y chromosomes are only passed from father to son. I can’t get ydna information of my father’s lineage but my brother can.

When these tests are done, you are given a haplogroup designation. This map gives us an idea of the migration and evolution of different mitochondrial lineages beginning with “mitochondrial Eve” from whom all modern humans are believed to be descended from on the maternal lines. Eve is believed to have been born 200,000 years ago in East Africa. While she wasn’t the only female living at the time, all other female lines failed to produce continuous descendants with their mitochondrial DNA. image
Over time, Eve’s offspring began to migrate outside of this part of Africa. With time particular mutations happened within the mtDNA resulting in subgroups. With these subgroups, it’s possible to trace your maternal lines to different parts of the world.

My mtDNA haplogroup is L3b1a. The first genetic mutation of Eve is L0, then L1, L2, and L3. Because I did the full sequence of my DNA I have extra information on my maternal lineage which primarily West African with my coding region (another part of the DNA tested) matches me with indigenous Berbers of Morocco and Egypt.

FTDNA provides you with information about matches on the mtDNA test. In my case, where L3b1a goes back at least 20,000, my matches may be too distantly related to find our exact connection but it gives me more clues on my lineage. Most of my matches are Bantus in places like Sierra Leone, Camaroon, Chad and I even have matches in Syria.

FTDNA offers autosomal testing through their FamilyFinder test that theoretically gives you your ethnic breakdown according to your chromosomes. This information comes from both your mother and father and should reflect the past 125 years or 5-6 generations back. For some population groups, there are filters that help distinguish matches that appear close genetically but in actuality are more distant on paper. Where there are generations cousins marrying cousins as in the case of royal families, etc, there is the possibility that the results reflect information much further than 125 years. In my tree, I have many 3rd and 4th cousins marrying so I’m pretty sure that my Afghani line wasn’t very recent. image
Of my matches on FamilyFinder, some are of Cape Verdean origin, while some people are of Eastern European and Jewish origins. How I match Hungarian, Polish and Ukranians has been a bit tricky but what’s interesting is that we all descend from the same person since we all match on the very same spot on the same chromosome (19). I have African American matches, one of who has only been able to trace one line to an enslaved person around 1860 in South Carolina. The thought that his ancestor was possibly family to someone in my tree is intriguing in that it may be a way to connect to my enslaved ancestors.

Exploring my DNA has been very interesting, to say the least. It’s helped to answer many questions, expand my family tree and to create even more questions. My hope is that questions about “what is a Cape Verdean” can be answered in terms of its history and what groups of people were instrumental in its creation. But most of all, rather than defining Cape Verde in terms of its uniqueness and setting it apart from the rest of the world, it should strengthen our humanity. At the end of the day, we are all connected.

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Come With Me On A Journey

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A glimpse of a day in the life our ancestors , # 52 Ancestors

A glimpse of a day in the life our ancestors , # 52 Ancestors.

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Cape Verdean Veterans of American Wars

The Creola Genealogist:

A post from a great blog by fellow Cape Verdean history enthusiast, Gerson Monteiro

Originally posted on Cape Verde History Unearthed:

In honor of Armistice/ Veterans Day this post will honor Cape Verdean veterans of American Wars.

The Cape Verdean community here in the States should be very proud of all the Patriots it has produced and lost in every American war since the beginning; fighting for its independence, it’s struggle to remain a unified nation and for the abolition of slavery. We have fought with her against fascists and saved millions from death camps all over Europe. We were there in Korea and Vietnam and every other time Americans have been called to serve this country, including Iraq and Afghanistan.

Here is a partially list of the thousands of Cape Verdeans that have served this great nation (info provided by www.thecreolagenealogist.wordpress.com/2012/07/03/cape-verdeans-and-americas-independance-day-just-as-american-as-apple-pie :

Documented Cape Verdean military soldiers in the Revolutionary war for Independence from England were collected by Jose dos Anjos in his research of Cape Verdean military soldiers

James Pease…

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A glimpse of a day in the life our ancestors , # 52 Ancestors

In 1937, Mario “Marty” Rose, a Cape Verdean American from New Bedford filmed his trip to Cabo Verde and produced what is probably the first film ever made in Cape Verde. He set sail with Captain Benjamin Costa aboard the schooner, Stranger, owned by the da Lomba Family of New Bedford. This film was shown by Mr Rose and the Seamen’s Memorial Scholarship Fund in the 1940’s.

The significance of this film can not be overstated as it gives us a visual glimpse into how our ancestors lived. The footage of the men aboard the ship at the port in New Bedford reflects the daily activities of our ancestors preparing to leave port on whaling ships for whatever corner of the earth yielded the coveted whale oil. As the men set off, Mr Rose includes a clip of some rough seas and violent looking waves that was surely common on any voyage across the Atlantic and further testifies to courage our ancestors demonstrated each time they made these voyages.

They arrived in São Vicente and travel over to São Nicolão filming various aspects of island life. But for me, the moments in Brava, about 20 minutes in, were the most emotional to watch. In 1937, my maternal grandmother, Vovo, would have been 14 years old and living with my great-grandmother, Bibi, in the home built by her and my great-grandfather, Avelino, who died in Waterbury, CT just 8 years prior. My maternal grandfather, Raimundo, was 20 years old and living in Tome Barraz. His mother would have been living in Onset, MA for about 19 years at that point and his father Marcelino, was back in Lomba Lomba after spending many years in New Bedford.

My paternal grandparents were newlyweds having gotten married in July of that year and living in Figueral in the same home with her mother, Anna, while my great-grandfather was living and working in New Brunswick, NJ with his brother João. My father would be born two years later. The house that would be later owned by my great-aunt, Albertina, is shown in the port of Furna, as a large group of Brava men work to put a ship they had just finished building in the water. Those men pictured could have been the same ones who boarded the schooner, Mathilde, 6 years later.

Mr Rose filmed a wedding procession from Campo to Nova Sintra showing beautifully dressed men and women following an equally beautiful but somber couple to the church to be married. A group of men with guitars and violins escorted the group to and from playing mornas I’m sure I’ve heard before. I can imagine my grandparents walking the same paths in their wedding clothes with other members of my family following as the same musicians played a morna. Another procession depicts the da Lomba family burying one of their female family members.

Watching the feast on Emancipation day commemorating the abolishment of slavery in Cape Verde took my breath away. In the footage it looks like a group of men, women and children, who may have been descendants of the slaves freed in 1876, are seen eating canja at a long table flanked by whiter-skinned people with smiles. The gentleman at the head of the table looks like so many Cape Verdeans I’ve known in my family and in my community. It’s difficult not to feel some ambivalence and maybe outright abhorrence toward the “benevolent Portuguese Government” who footed the bill for this “magnificent feast” of chicken and rice soup while looking into the faces of our ancestors who endured slavery in Cape Verde. I can’t imagine that hundreds of years of slavery could be forgiven over a bowl of canja.

Mr Rose was right when they wrote that Bravenses frowned upon the “Sabe Colinha”, a dance brought to the islands by our African Ancestors. I’ve actually done this dance before when a popular artist, Gil, came out with the song, “Maria Julia” in the 1990’s. You see a group of people in a circle surrounding people pounding on tamboros as a black woman with an lenço on her head sings and claps. You can almost hear her singing;

“O Sabe Colinha!
Colinha manda rufa na portal figuerinha!
Quel qu’e suju, bu da cachor,
Quel qu’e limpo, bu da’M de meu!”

The film then shows various aspects of life for Cape Verdeans in New Bedford and Cape Cod. We see ordinary people taking part in normal activities, along with lawyers and business people in the community. There’s even a wedding! Except these people could be seen smiling through out whereas it would have been considered impolite to do so in Cape Verde.

You can’t help but pause as the film begins showing some of our ancestors as they crouched in the cranberry bogs for pennies a bucket. In the 30’s and 40’s, my great-grandmother, Joanna, could have been among the women hunched over on their knees, in the hot summer sun, picking cranberries or blueberries. Her children and grandchildren would have accompanied her on many of those days to help the family. My great-grandfather, Jose and his cousin, Anibal, were working on the same railroad tracks shown in the film. Seeing these people who could have been and probably were my own relatives made feel all the more appreciative for the life I have because of them.

This film is a treasure for Cape Verdeans and Cape Verdean-Americans. Mario “Marty” Rose filmed this over 80 years ago and it was recently posted on youtube by his grandson, Derek Rose, a writer who now lives in New Zealand and gave his permission to attach this video. Please tell your family and friends about this great piece of history. Share this with as many people as you can so that we can all learn about our culture as we take a glimpse of a day in the life of our ancestors.

Thank you Marty and Derek!

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