Haile Gerima called me a “nigger” in front of a crowd of Black elders, Howard University students and professors. They clapped for him after the disinformation he spewed in anger about the history and story of Maroons. This happened at his establishment, Sankofa Café on Georgia Ave in DC during a talk on the book, I Am Maroon.
After sharing my views on the use of the term Maroon and that my tribal community does not use the term because of what it means, (run away slave) Haile Gerima made his way to the front of the room to speak on the issue and after a brief back and forth with me spewed angrily, “Don’t say you’re a special nigger in the middle of Negros. That’s brag language. You’re not special, you’re not special, you’re not special. What I’m trying to tell you is all Black people made history out of their circumstances.”
Haile Gerima during the Q&A: https://youtu.be/s5sHg_UQvmU
In spite of what I know, including the books I’ve read, as well as my lived experience, I was told to crawl back into my cave, slandered, dismissed and insulted when I spoke about the history, meaning and impact of the word Maroon on my Pamaka culture. I was speaking as a so-called Maroon from Suriname. During the Q&A session I applauded the two speakers, children of the late author, Russell Shoatz, a gang member who turned political activist after hearing Malcolm X speak. He was sentenced to life in prison “following a coordinated attack in Fairmont Park that left one park guard dead.” He was affectionately called Maroon for his attempts to break out of the prison walls that kept him away from his community, activism and the life he deserved to live if justice knew its way to him and all those marred in the ongoing freedom struggle for a just America.
My comment during the Q&A: https://youtu.be/WvQ4-bxQRpQ
Simply expressing my disgust, shock and dismay at being called “nigger” by the owner of Sankofa will not suffice this storytelling. Because something deeper, more meaningful, even eye-opening took place that Saturday evening at Sankofa, a place I had come to enjoy for its unique African celebrations and elevation of Black voices.
Haile Gerima, a stranger to me, was angry and hostile when he addressed me while speaking to the crowd that had gathered to listen to the book talk. He took issue with my earlier comment by covertly insulting me, followed by dismissing all I had shared, even disregarding my lived experience and cultural knowledge and understanding of history and basic facts of Maroons. At one point he even unfurled a long list of supposed names used to describe Maroons. One of the words was Ifu Gadu Wani. I was shocked to see my tribal language on the list that seem to have been put together rather flimsily. I said “Ifu Gadu Wani” is my tribal language, Pamaka. I speak it, write it and know that it does not mean Maroon, nor has it ever been used as another word for Maroon. The phrase actually means God willing and literally, “If God wants.” I grew up in Suriname with my mother and elders saying this phrase all the time. Haile Gerima pumped with ego and adrenaline refused to listen. I even held up the book I brought along to offer as reference for this knowledge, The Maroons of Jamaica 1655-1796, A History of Resistance, Collaboration & Betrayal, by Mavis C. Cambell but it fell on deaf ears with a dismissive retort, “why do you think I don’t have that book!” Haile Gerima got so riled up he crouched like a wild beast readying to pounce its prey, leaned forward with hate-filled eyes and fire in his breath and said, “Don’t say you’re a special nigger in the middle of negros. That’s brag language. You’re not special, you’re not special, you’re not special!”
I never said I was a special “nigger” in the room. I simply said many of those who are called Maroons, a name the British first called escaped enslaved Africans in Jamaica, do not refer to themselves as Maroons. Many of us come from different tribes and even speak different dialects and practice different tribal customs. We are Tribal African people, not Maroons.
I was shocked hearing “nigger” thrown at me so maliciously and flippantly. The word traveled in slow motion across this so-called sacred Black space called Sankofa.
Haile Gerima’s anger and toxic ego was on full display. I don’t know Haile Gerima. Had never met or even heard of him before Saturday night at Sankofa. When I go to the Café it is usually for a topic I find interesting and meaningful to my own life and pursuit of storytelling and documenting.
During previous visits I spoke to several of the staff there who handled speaking events about having a talk on the word Maroon. I also wrote to them requesting the opportunity to speak about my I Am Not Your Maroon campaign to educate about the word that, similar to the word “nigger” also carries its own trauma and inhumanity for Tribal African people. They never took me up on the offer. However, when I saw that I Am Maroon was going to be a book talk, I didn’t hesitate to attend. I wanted to know more about the book and why the author called himself Maroon. I also wanted to engage them as an actual so-called Maroon.
I left Sankofa with a heavy heart and disappointed spirit. This so-called safe space for Black people and Black stories was not safe at all. That evening I experienced a café and book store that defended sharing misinformation and disinformation. And one led by a man who labelled me a bragger who sees herself as a “special nigger among negros” for not wanting to be called a Maroon… a run away slave.
After the event was over, I stayed seated for a few minutes gathering myself, my thoughts and my exit plan. As people made their way to the stage for signatures, an older gentleman came over to me and apologized for Haile Gerima’s behavior. He said it was uncalled for and told me briefly about his character and hot temper. It was the old excuse line, “this is who he is, he’s always like this and I’m sorry that happened to you.” As I made my way to the exit one of the HU professors came over to shake my hand and greet me because she had never met someone from Suriname before. In the small talks, I saw an opening. There, the moderator and a few other elders had circled around Haile Gerima. They were gleefully speaking and engaging, as if this man didn’t just call me a nigger in front of them. It was like the standing ovation Will Smith received at the Oscars after slapping Chris Rock for no good reason. During his tirade the old man threw an insincere and hallow apology my way, called me “sister” a few times and said we could speak further after the event because after all, he was happy to see a “sister” from Suriname at the event.
I quietly took my exit.
Sankofa on Georgia Ave in Washington, DC claims to hold sacred the stories and history of Black folks and their experience. Enter at your own risk though and never forget, “Don’t say you’re a special nigger in the middle of Negros. You’re not special.”
Campaigns to eliminate to use of the word Maroon to describe a People are not new. And neither is the hostility and push back against this long standing movement. And the pushback is not from white people, but from Black folks who are not called Maroons and burdened with the stigma it carries. This fight is no different than the one Malcolm X poignantly spoke of when he described the difference between the house Negro and the field Negro. And like Malcolm, I too am a field Negro. Just don’t call me Maroon. And if the great orator and writer James Baldwin can say to his American oppressors, I Am Not Your Negro, so too can Tribal Africans in the Americas say, I Am Not Your Maroon.
Jeanette Lenoir, Founder, ePluribusAmerica
