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The Paradox of Black Patriotism in America
It feels foolish to love a nation that despises you in return
From the Derek Chauvin trial to the killing of Daunte Wright, it is a hard time to be an African American patriot.
My father used to read an entire Perry Mason book every day; Perry Mason is a fictional American criminal defense attorney authored by Erle Stanley Gardner. The series was a chance for my father to escape his reality as a child living in poverty in a rural region in Nigeria. He eventually gained an American green card and worked at a Stop & Go gas station for upward of two years while studying at Los Angeles Community College and sending money back to Nigeria to pay for my mother’s college tuition. When my mother arrived, he transferred to UCLA to pursue his bachelor’s degree with the eventual goal of attending law school — which he completed at Massachusetts School of Law. My mother eventually became a registered nurse. Both of my parents loved the idea of America — the belief that anyone, regardless of class or race or religion, can attain their own version of success in a society in which upward movement is possible for everyone.
My father is a patriot. My mother is a patriot. When watching the Olympics or the FIFA World Cup, they are audibly dismayed at the simple possibility that the U.S. may not place…
