This past Saturday, June 26, 2010, my divided loyalty to country was tested when Ghana once again played the United States in the World Cup Round of 16. Fortunately, this was not a life and death situation so much cannot be made of my betrayal, but I felt conflicted nonetheless for I unapologetically rooted for Ghana to win. They were the attacked underdogs. My daily living conflicts (but what I call my conscious attempts to blend) are evident all around me. I have a Ghana flag hanging from the visor mirror of my SUV. I proudly proclaim to be Ghanaian whenever the opportunity presents itself. I also have an American flag hanging from the visor mirror of my SUV. The two flags sway with the movement of the vehicle side by side daily. I proclaim to be American whenever the opportunity presents itself. Most often than not, you will hear me refer to myself as Ghanaian-American.
After the loss to Ghana, both my sisters called to tease me about the United States’ loss. It stung a little even though I was not supporting the US, or so I said. I was in a room full of Ghanaians so I could not allow my conflict to show. In the days leading up to the game, many messages floated back and forth asking me which team I was going to support; as if they even needed to ask. My boyfriend made a statement about Americans the other night that cost us a lovely evening because I got offended and a little upset with the way he had generalized Americans as selfish people. I took it as a personal jibe at me. A few days ago, a Forbes article declared Ghana the ninth worst managed economy in the world. I felt a stab in my chest as I read it, and a little outraged.
The beauty of being in America is that many Americans have conflicting backgrounds; it’s something many of us have in common whether we are Nigerian-American, Kenyan-America, Ghanaian-American, or Haitian-American. Some have two – sometimes more - cultural and ethnic backgrounds. As a result, we have seen and heard of the torn patriotisms that have resonated throughout bars and pubs, and homes and restaurants during this World Cup craze. It is to be expected. It is what makes being an American a beautiful thing. We are all American until the other side of us is attacked or forced to compete with the other. That’s when our true allegiances play against each other and cause us to question where our loyalties really lie. Every other day, I am Ghanaian-American. On Saturday, June 26th, I was a full blooded Ghanaian but my heart was still torn and when I saw the American players sitting so torn and dejected, a part of me went out to them.
As a writer, I find that I need the separation of my two selves in order to feel whole. I need to feel African in order to understand Africa, and I need to feel American in order to understand America. For, how can I purport to represent and support African women if I choose to represent them through American eyes? To do so would be prejudiced. I cannot claim to understand each of my selves if one is constantly in conflict with the other?
I am a United States citizen. I have been since the day I was born. Even when my family moved to Ghana, where I grew up, I considered myself American – always have, and no one can ever take that away from me. There was always a certain kind of pride that came in knowing I was born American. Any talk against the United States in general terms offends me personally. I am a Ghanaian by heritage. It is what was passed on to me from one generation to the next. To deny this fact would be to deny the very essence of me. I have not always been proud to call myself a Ghanaian though. Of that I am ashamed to admit, but once I came to accept that part of me, that’s when I became a full human being with an existence that made sense. But, even in my teenage years when I was not proud of my heritage, any talk against Africa in general terms offended me personally. Any talk against Ghana in particular was like a stab in my heart. It was the conflict of self and identity at work in me that was causing me to deprive my self of a peaceful existence.
Today, I describe myself as Ghanaian-American. I am either Ghanaian or American when it best suits me. Fortunately, I can afford to do that. I am a Ghanaian by lineage. But, I am also an American by birth and that makes me whatever I choose to call myself. My birthplace is just as important to me as my family lineage. It is what defines who I am. When it comes to where my loyalties lie, it lies with the one being attacked in the moment. The bigger question becomes, “what happens when they are both attacked at the same time?” That’s a question I will be forced to answer when the opportunity presents itself. For now, I love them both equally, for they are both me.
