Everyday I feel something calling. Often I can't think of anything else but Africa, what part it is of me and what part of Africa I am. The African souls caught in america occupy a large place in my mind and Africa often weighs heavy on my consciousness. I know that my soul is diluted after being born and raised under the flag of a western empire. I know that everyone else like me that was born and raised here, all of our souls are diluted. By my own will I have kept that part of my soul, the part that was borne from the soil of the Continent, pure. Africa often weighs heavy on my consciousness. On my lunch breaks I read Frantz Fanon. Then I look up the names of the people and places he refers to when I come home. I shout UNITY, SOLIDARITY, MOVEMENT and LIBERATION at the others. Most of them stand there grazing with a blank-eyed stare, or attack me and my words in defense of the one--who put scars on the soul of so many, after generation after generation after generation of what they've done to my People, my Fore-Fathers, my History, my Livelihood, my Destiny. My destiny... is linked to my lost family, my lost heritage, my lost land. Many of the others here deny the Motherland. I do not deny the Motherland. They react to news of tragedy and suffering there with a shrug and a, "That's why we're lucky they brought us here." Or, "It's hell there--starvation, war and aids." My reaction is anguish. My reaction is guilt. My reaction is, "If they are starving and suffering why aren't we there." I don't mean the u.s. military. I mean the lost children of Africa. Often I can't think of anything else but Africa, what part it is of me and what part of Africa I am. Everyday I feel something calling. I hear the drums and shouts, the chanting and song. My Destiny, My Heritage, My Family O Motherland! Mighty Africa! By this soul, you are loved and revered.