The Complexity of Home: A Reflection on Race and Belonging in America

When considering my relationship with America, I can’t help but recall that old Chris Rock joke: “America is like your uncle who put you through college… but molested you.” While the analogy is problematic, it does manage to encapsulate a glaring truth about the duality of this nation. There’s a conflict between gratitude and deep-seated grievances that echoes through the histories of countless Black Americans.

The Narrative of Immigration

Phrases like “We all chose to come here from somewhere else” or “We’re a nation of immigrants” are often thrown around with commendable intentions. However, such statements conveniently overlook the existence of the land’s First Peoples and the harrowing plight of kidnapped Africans who were forcibly brought here. For many Black Americans, the term “immigrate” feels trivial compared to the historical realities we’ve faced—chained, shipped, and stripped of our humanity. Since 1619, Black Americans have existed in a precarious state of citizenship, one marked by denial, threat, and the constant questioning of our belonging.

Living under such continuous stress makes it nearly impossible to feel “at home.” In an abusive relationship with our government, the fight-or-flight state becomes a way of life, overshadowing any notion of safety or belonging.

The Constant Struggle for Rights

This enduring battle—fighting for rights that others take for granted—remains at the forefront of our existence. Whether it’s combating redlining, facing discrimination in the workplace, or navigating inequities in the healthcare system, that struggle seeps into every facet of life. Each fight chips away at our quality of life, with victories feeling strikingly fragile and temporary.

I often find myself wrestling with questions like: What does my place in this country truly look like? Which battles are worth my energy? And what does real quality of life mean in a country that consistently fails to reflect its promises? If America is the benchmark, then one thing is painfully clear: it’s not enough.

Questioning the Idea of “Home”

It’s natural to wonder: What if “home” exists elsewhere? This thought isn’t new. From the founding of Liberia to vibrant Black communities in Costa Rica or Mexico, to Ghana’s “Year of Return” in 2019, generations of African Americans have embarked on journeys in search of liberation, safety, and affirmation.

Growing up in Santa Barbara, the phrase “go back to Africa” became a familiar sting—an insult intended to evoke shame. Yet deep down, I understood the weight of history too well to allow it to define my identity or sense of belonging. My experience at UC Berkeley, a campus known for progressive values, was eye-opening; encountering overt racism there for the first time only reaffirmed my desire for a space where I could truly belong.

Revelatory Connections Abroad

Studying abroad in Barbados was transformational. For the first time, I felt liberated from the constant scrutiny linked to my Blackness. Surrounded by faces that mirrored my own, I experienced a sense of community that challenged the narrow standards of beauty I’d internalized. The environment uplifted my spirit, allowing me to envision a different relationship with myself, one that wasn’t tied to America.

My time in Ghana further compounded this revelation. Walking on the land from which my ancestors were stolen carried profound emotional weight. The challenges were real, and the work demanding, but the warmth and laughter of the people, along with the delectable jollof, created an unmatched sense of welcome. For once, I felt enveloped in a kind of protection, a stark contrast to the feelings of danger and alienation I often faced in the U.S.

The Dilemma of Expat Living

The thought of becoming an expatriate looms large in my consciousness. It’s a privilege to even ponder such a life, yet it is complicated. Can I truly leave behind the familiar comforts—family, friends, everyday conveniences? What would it take to navigate new bureaucracies, establish a career, and build a community around me? More critically, is there a place where the lofty ideals of equality and dignity truly manifest in daily life?

A decade ago, the notion of leaving would have seemed preposterous. Yet, with America’s political climate becoming increasingly hostile and oppressive, the urge to explore new horizons grows ever stronger. The erosion of rights may not be new, but its relentless nature feels daunting. This realization prompted me to draw lines on a map and mark the upcoming midterms as a pivotal moment to reassess where “home” might be.

A World of Possibilities

With nearly two billion Black people scattered across the globe, surely there lies a sanctuary among them. I consider Ghana, the Caribbean, Mexico, and Portugal—each offering that child-like sense of security, where “home” signifies not just survival but the simple act of being.

Perhaps America is my home; perhaps it’s just a temporary stop along the journey. Or maybe, for the first time, it’s time to explore what life could feel like when the concept of “home” transforms from one of struggle to one of genuine belonging.