One of the most quoted lines about Africa comes from Countee Cullen's lyrical and classic Harlem Renaissance poem, "Heritage," in which he asks: "What is Africa to me?" This has been an especially poignant question for black Americans, of course, but it's also one that many white Americans have pondered.
After turning over this question myself for some time, from both personal and academic angles, it has occurred to me that a much better question is simply: What is Africa?
Let me explain. When Americans approach Africa, we almost always do so not only with a lot of preconceptions and stereotypes, but also with deeply felt and highly personal needs. We travel to Africa looking to fill some sort of hole in our own lives. We go looking for authenticity or culture or an exotic experience or roots or home or Eden or to be a hero. Very seldom are we happy with what we find, because very seldom do we find precisely what we wanted to find.
If we instead approached Africa--and the rest of our travels, actual and imaginary--with a sense of openness, with respectful curiosity, we would likely be less disappointed, more delighted.
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