Perspectives on Unity and the African Diaspora: Examples from the Children's Literature of Lucille Clifton and Rosa Guy (1990)

Perspectives on Unity and the African Diaspora: Examples from the Children's Literature of Lucille Clifton and Rosa Guy The meaning of brotherhood and sisterhood within the African diaspora is a theme which many writers of African American children's literature explore. This diasporic, or pan African orientation, can be quite problematic. This is evident as early as 1920 in W.E.B. DuBois and Augustus Granville Dill's youth magazine, The Brownies' Book- Espousing a diasporic and sometimes Afro-centric perspective, the magazine also displays a preoccupation with what it means to an American person of African descent—a primary identification which can clash with the sometimes idealistic diasporic stance. In this discussion, the idealistic is examined through Lucille Clifton's picture book, All Us Come Cross the Water and the problematic is examined through Rosa Guy's The Friends. The most obvious message of All Us Come Cross the Water is that Black peoples of the New World all arrived here together on slave ships. To some degree, Clifton acknowledges a bond between them based solely on their common place of origin in Africa. It is this assumption, both simple and complex, that instigates the story's movement. The main character and narrator, Ujamaa (or Jim), describes the opening episode in this way: I got this teacher name Miss Wills. This day she come asking everybody to tell where they people come from. Everybody from over in the same place suppose to stand up by theirselves. (unpaged) When Ujamaa neither says anything nor stands up, the teacher reproaches him: "We must not be ashamed of ourselves, Jim," she say. 'You are from a great heritage....Now you know you are from Africa, dont you?" (unpaged) Ujamaa give the polite retort "Yes, ma'am" and walks out in disgust stemming from the fact that he knows Africa is a huge continent and few Afro-Americans know specifically where they are from. Thus begins his quest to document his own origins. The first people he questions are his sister and his father, both of whom give ill-informed answers. In his impatience, the father finally mumbles, "Boy, I'm too tired to fool with you. Go ask Big Mama them questions." Big Mama is Ujamaa's "Mama's Mama's Mama. She real old and she don't say much, but she see things cause she was born with a veil over her face." Not surprisingly, it is she who gives Ujamaa the most penetrating yet elusive reply. After she indicates from where in Africa her forebears come, the following conversation ensues: "That mean I'm from Ashanti people." She say, "Who are you, boy?" I say, "I'm Ujamaa." Shoot, she know who I am, it was her give me my name. She say, "Go on now then. I'm through." (unpaged) Though Ujamaa is not quite sure about the implications of what she has said to him, the one part of her reply that he does identify as being significant is her focus on "name." When he· approaches his next informant his interest, too, is on naming, asking immediately, "What's your real name, Tweezer?" Tweezer is Ujamaa's "grown man friend over to the Panther Book Shop" whose constant advice is "Just you be a good brother, Ujamaa." His response to the boy's immediate question is that he does not know what his real name is because it was left in Africa. This conversation follows: 55 "What you mean?" "When they stole my Daddy's Daddy to make him a slave they didn't ask for his name and he didnt give it." "Well what did they call him?" He [Tweezer] say, "Whatever he let urn. Reckon he figure if they aint got his name they ain't really got him." I say, "Big Mama give me my name. It mean Unity." He smile then. He start really talking. "Long as your own give you the name you know it's yours.... Everybody else just calling us something, but we name us. You named a good name, (unpaged) Ujamaa then asks how we, African-American people, can say what specific countries we are from. Tweezer's...