fa9cdf6fa57d283e93c8f61f81515dde“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou

In this section of the blog, you will have access to a new, yet old kind of home. Earlier this year I began my journey as a Fulbright Teaching Fellow in South Africa. For some of us, specific parts of the continent of Africa bring an old and familiar sense of home. For others, this page might bring a new sense of home as it opens up new access to the continent. As a proud 1st generation Ghanaian American, I have both yearned for and discovered the home of my parents and ancestors. Having been to South Africa before has given me enough exposure to see the vast differences that exist throughout this continent. For that reason, you will only hear me use the word “Africa” if I am referring to the continent as a whole, out of respect for the uniqueness of each country.  

In this section, I will write “to” home in more than one aspect because we have the right to experience what home looks like beyond America and not just through Western media.

  1. I am writing to you all at home in America, hoping to shine light on some of the beauty and be real about some struggles that exists on the continent of Africa, specifically in Durban, South Africa.
  2. I am writing to the continent as I learn more about it, asking deeper questions about my experience here.
  3. I am adopting South Africa as my home for the time that I am spending here, a safe space where my black beauty can shine while I work to encourage young South Africans to do the same.

The concept of home is an interesting one and the pun exists to enforce the fact that we all have a right to home, to explore it, to engage with it, to appreciate it, to celebrate it. When I studied abroad in Stellenbosch, South Africa, I found myself homesick for so many different places, some of which I hadn’t realized I even considered home (like Georgetown’s cafeteria for some reason). This pushed me to explore the concept of home. I could list all of the definitions of home possible, but the truth is it’s subjective. For me, home has been the places where my roots are, where I share fond memories and defining struggles, the places that have shaped me to the extent that I find myself yearning for them after moving on. We all have the right to these places and experiences and this is the space where I will write to these places and experiences.

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