As I grow older, I find myself developing a keener interest in my past. Not just my immediate past in the sense of what my baby-world or growing-up years were like. Rather, it’s this desire to learn about my ancestry, about those who came before me, about the human race that preceded the land before time.
I wonder if Alex Haley woke up one day and felt this same yearning grip his soul. This need to trace his roots. This need to reach far back into the past. This need to know what configuration of humanity transpired to make him.
Being a 2nd generation immigrant, there isn’t much that anchors me. Neither the country of my birth because we do not share a history; nor the country of my forefathers because our pasts are disjointed. When I see people brimming with passion and patriotism for their country, I’m always curious how that feels. Is it a tie that binds even tighter and deeper than the most perfect of relationships?
I do not belong because I am a daughter of the earth?