As long as I can remember, I loved the sight of books. Even when I couldn’t read them, they seemed to be mystical and intimate. I used to hold them in my hand and scan the pages. I knew one day, I would learn how to read and have enough patience to enjoy a book… and I did. Now, I have an extreme thirst for books of history and it doesn’t matter whether it’s European, Asian, African or American history — I find great delight in them all.

The core of me is historically infused by nature and the solid rock of ancient testimony is my foundation. Whether it’s about Cyrus the Great, Maya Angelou, Xerxes — or even Josephus, who wrote, “… but others there are, who, of necessity and by force, are driven to write history, because they are concerned in the facts, and so cannot excuse themselves from committing them to writing.” Being born in America is absolutely a wonderful blessing hidden in the thickets, between the books and libraries offering infinite perspectives of lies and truths. When considering history and reading it as it relates to African Americans, it can be very depressing and confusing. On one hand, I was born in the greatest county on earth, a nation who fights for freedom all over the world; but when it comes to the history of African Americans, well –“it’s complicated.”

The backdrop to African American history is depressing. When I looked at the life of Paul Robeson, I was reading about a true genius, a man who spoke more than 20 languages. Robeson was once quoted as saying, “Equality might be denied but I knew I was not inferior.” He was a giant of a man who in ancient times would’ve been a great prince. The back drop to his life was oppression, discrimination and lynching. He was so intelligent that he didn’t toe a line for anyone and he was very aware of the power of propaganda — but played no part in it. Robeson spoke truth to power concerning pressing matters in America and the world, and for 8 years he was silenced and had his passport taken. It’s exhausting when looking at the same backdrop for many others like Malcolm X, Medgar Evers and Bessie Colman. I ask, who is responsible for this attitude and treatment, and where did it come from? It’s sickening to read about the underprivileged life pushed upon that generation of elders.

But something wonderful happened in my reading preparation. I picked up the bible and read the name Cyrus. It was the first time I was introduced to that historical name. I questioned whether or not Cyrus the Great was a real person. I discovered indeed he was, and I was excited that there was truth to the book, and for me I had a beginning point, because historically I was lost. I was so happy that the bible was not written by those who controlled Atlantic Slave Trade. It brought joy to my heart and confirmed that is was a great testimonial gift to the slave master and the slave, as neither could “add to it or subtract from it.”  Those of us from the Bantu line in America and those of us schooled with the Latin alphabet were new to the ancient testimonial account. You read from The Book of Moses, “Ham was a son of Noah and the father of Cush, Mizraim, Phut and Canaan.” Like Howard Carter and Walter Bryan Emery, I too was excited to search for information related to the hot land and its people.

It was a journey of self-discovery, a restructuring of ancient steps and maybe, just maybe I would learn why I loved hot sauce. The story of Ham and his children in the hot land is an ancient one. It was a written history long before the first ship landed in America. The stories of history are told by those in charge, but in this great and free country, I am free to search for the sight of me; I am free to pursue the happiness of me. And as I have said, the core of me has been taken over by ancient testimony and I am historically infused by nature. Here is a twist to an old African Proverb, “Because the elephant don’t have a historian the hunter is the hero.” Well, from the inspiration of the great life of Carter G. Woodson, the elephant’s historian has arrived and will tell you about the last great dinosaur walking the earth – historically speaking.