The Voice of The Ancestors
Dr. Herman O. Kelly, Jr., Columnist
In traditional African religions, the ancestors’ spirit hovers over the living to give them direction and encouragement. As the ancestors’ spirit moves over us, they speak to us. Researchers define an ancestor as one who has lived a long, good life, has children and grandchildren, and has died a good death. We should celebrate our ancestors and cherish their existence. What would they say to us now?
First, our ancestors cry tears of sadness and miscontent. Their tears would flow like rain because we have been killing each other like a video game or target practice on a gun range. They would continue to be sad because they see our youth struggling to find meaning and purpose. Instead of using the power of the legacy they left us, they speak with guns. I want to argue that if such young people really knew and understood their legacy, they would put away their guns and stand in awe of the ancestors they have passed this way. I presently teach African American Studies at Louisiana State University. I am passionate about this teaching assignment because our sainted aunt, Ms. Elizabeth Wilkins, told us about her encounter with Ms. Mary McLeod Bethune at Bethune Cookman College (University) in Daytona Beach, Florida. She tells of how Ms. Bethune asked her about being her work-study student. In fact, she styled Ms. Bethune’s hair, and those same hands would rub our forehead when we were ill and braided my sister’s hair. The ancestor, Mary McLeod Bethune, we speak of was in the hands of our aunt. They still speak today from eternity.
Second, our ancestors lament that some public officials want us to forget our glorious history. They want our history erased from the books of eternity like we erase a math problem to which we struggle to find the answer. The ancestors are sad because we have forgotten their voices and rich heritage. I still hear their voices, “God of our silent tears, thou who hast brought us thus far on the way; Thou who hast by Thy might, led us into the light, keep us forever in the path, we pray.” (James Weldon Johnson) As our ancestors cry, God hears the silent tears of a generation asking, “Why so much violence?”
Last, our ancestors call for us to bring the village back together. Where is the village we once knew? Where is the community of love? I turned one of my early sermons is now one of my new assignments, “The Community of Love.” Is the village so splintered that we might never return to the Community of Love? The ancestors are crying and sad. Please listen to their voices. Can you hear them? They are speaking.
