Ambassadors for Africa: Bridging the Gap

by Ebele Ifedigbo

 A version of this post originally appeared on Africa.com under its "My Journey, My Africa" section.



My Journey with Africa started as one of deep confusion and chronic discord. Like most African children born and raised in the United States, I struggled with my Nigerian status. Growing up, I was particularly perplexed as to why my parents chose to curse my life with such a weird name as ‘Ebele’- didn’t they know that people would continually butcher the pronunciation or, worse, give in to the temptation of calling me incredibly stupid nicknames like ‘Belly’?

Being the hybrid product of a Nigerian father and a black American mother only compounded my African identity struggle. It seemed like I never really fit in on either side: Africans saw me as essentially black and they tended to see blacks as lazy and uncultured; blacks saw me as essentially African and they tended to see Africa as a place full of naked tree-swinging tribes and starving babies.

Of course I had my family there to keep me grounded in Nigerian culture and values but, given the fact that I was actually raised in a black American community, I felt a lot further removed from my African identity than from my black American identity. As I got older and the desire to truly know myself set in, I became increasingly curious to learn more about Africa: I got my Nigerian cousins to teach me Igbo, I started listening to music artists like Flavour and 9ice to complement the Bob Marley and 2pac collections that had long flooded my iPod, and I took so many Africa-focused electives in college that I ended up qualifying for a minor in African Studies. But just knowing about Nigeria and Africa wasn’t enough for me. Deep down, I really wanted to understand more about the intersection of the African and black American experiences: How might we learn to find strength in our similarities while still proudly celebrating our differences? And, most importantly, how could I use my inter-sectional positioning to help bridge the deep cultural divide I’ve unfortunately had to navigate my entire life?

My passionate drive to unite my bifurcated communities has led me to create a new organization called Ambassadors for Africa (AFA). Founded in February 2012 by me and my partner Shirley Torho, AFA brings together black American youth ages 7-24 from all walks of life for a program designed to develop their global leadership capacity while preparing them for a life as advocates for meaningful and sustainable African development. At the core of AFA’s program model is our abiding belief that the black American community has been a sorely overlooked ally in the ongoing struggle for lasting African prosperity. Furthermore, we believe that exposure to the African cultural and socioeconomic milieu will empower black youth with a more complete perception of their personal identity and equip them with a more dynamic understanding of the pressing issues facing Africa-descendant communities, both in America and abroad.

After completing a curriculum rooted in responsible volunteerism & cultural exchange, social entrepreneurship, and Black & African Studies, youth participate in service trips to Africa, where they form sustainable relationships with African youth & community partners in key sectors. Upon their return to the United States, participants complete collaborative social action projects to effect change in the areas of African development most meaningful to them. Long term, AFA will serve as a critical facilitating link between AFA alumni and continental African communities and organizations, fueling and facilitating their contributions to the continent over time.

While my personal Journey with Africa has been a decidedly rocky one involving years of inner-conflict, discovery, growth, and self-acceptance, I am forever grateful because the challenging journey has led me to a place of unwavering appreciation and genuine empowerment through my African identity. Best of all, my Journey has led me to what I believe is my true life purpose. Through Ambassadors for Africa, I have the invaluable opportunity to use my bi-cultural life experience as a platform for creating a powerful and mutually-beneficial cross-continental exchange of ideas, resources, and support. The prospect of strengthening and unifying both sides of my Africa-descendant community brings me immense joy and satisfaction and I am quite excited to see where this Journey will take me next.

To learn more about Ambassadors for Africa and to join our nascent movement, please visit and 'like' our Facebook page at: www.facebook.com/Ambassadors4Africa or email us at: ambassadors4africa@gmail.com.

If you would like to help us with funding (and you definitely should!), you can contribute to our Indiegogo campaign at: www.indiegogo.com/AmbassadorsForAfrica.

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Ebele is a budding social entrepreneur whose foremost passion in life is the pursuit of lasting social and economic empowerment for the black community worldwide.
@Ebele_Ifedigbo
@Ambass4Africa

When the Wicked Witch is brown: Teaching race and gender politics to kids

Once upon a time, I babysat to make ends meet. I had a handful of families on constant rotation covering their child care as a personal summer camp counselor, the date night savior, and watchful eyes so mommy & daddy can get some work done. When I wasn't sitting, I was teaching movement to small children. There were days when I rarely spoke to anyone over the age of 5. My vocabulary became very basic. As I communicated with little people often, I found myself as a liaison between their world and the grown up world.

Recently I babysat two of my faves for the first time in a long while. We were reading bedtime stories, and the younger of two sisters insisted we read Captain Underpants. To be brief, this book is disgusting. It's a children's book yes, but built entirely around potty humor. The more I read, the more I was grossed out and the older sister agreed. Then she remarked, "This book is for boys! Gross, disgusting boys who play in toilets!" I was struck by how this 6 year old had gendered a story without a gender. I shot back to her, "But your sister likes it! And she's not a boy. Being disgusting is not a girl versus boy thing," I explained. "It's just a disgusting thing." She wasn't convinced. To her, gross humor = boy. I guess her sister just didn't count. How sad, I thought.

I pondered how she had gotten to that equation in her head. What clues and cues had she picked up on to lead her to that inference? Or had someone just said it to her outright? Boys will be boys. Boys have cooties. Boys are dirty. Boys are gross.

The next day we held an informal sharing and celebration for my children's dance classes at the YMCA. The ballet class of four 5 & 6 year old girls danced Sleeping Beauty and in the very fair world of Pre-K and K, they were all the princess, each crowned with a tiara... and they chose their favorite boy from school to be a kiss blowing prince... and Ms. Sydnie to be the evil witch who casts the sleeping spell.

Even at 5 years old, these girls were all about costumes and props. They decided I should wear an evil witch outfit and I needed a magic wand. As I pondered what I should wear as my "evil" outfit, the first thing to come to mind was my burgundy dress & brown shrug. Burgundy is the antithesis to their light pink leotards, skirts and tights. Burgundy is dark. I am dark.

I got nervous and stopped myself as I searched through my closet for the dress. It bugged me to equate dark to evil. I didn't like that I was teaching and reinforcing light as right, and dark as wrong. Am I teaching my ballerinas (who happen to be caucasian and asian) that to wear dark colors (or just to look dark) signifies evil? Will this carry over subtly into all their psyche so that they will always associate dark with wrong?

Maybe the inner monologue was a little over the top, but not far fetched when just the day before I witnessed another child of the same age and relatively similar upbringing and exposure come to an oversimplified conclusion about an entire gender. 

*standing on soap box*

We have to start teaching children to take people on an individual basis. Of course, that would require adults to do the same, myself included. How many times today have you said some version of "Men are...," "Women are...," "Black people are...," "White people are...," etc.? Kids pick up on everything, and the first thing they do is repeat what they have seen and heard. I want the children I teach, babysit, and raise, to understand gender norms and racial stereotypes in our culture. But I also want them to be able to understand themselves as a human being who may or may not ascribe to these notions. Then, do unto others, as they do unto themselves.

It is an individual's actions that reveal their character, and each person regardless of gender and race may choose what those actions are. Because guess what? Gender and race are just some made up social constructs anyway! (Sidebar: I remember my sophomore year in college when Professor Glover wrote on the board - Race is a social construct. It's not real. - BLEW. MY. MIND.) 

*steps down off soap box*

Right before the performance one of the ballerinas asked, "Where is your evil costume?" I was wearing the burgundy dress. I pointed to it. "That's not evil!" She exclaimed. I was relieved.

"Well it's not the dress that makes me evil," I told her. "Really, it's what I do with my magic wand." I waved my sparkling wand in circles and squiggles above her head, and she giggled until she turned pink.

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Sydnie L. Mosley is a dancer, choreographer and teaching artist who loves to write. Read more of her musings on race, gender, dance and life on Love Stutter.