because home is somewhere.

African American, a word that means nothing much. Somewhere in Africa, yes the entire continent, was where my family came from. Brought from...carried, shipped, all that.
Now the American part... I'm all Louisianian!
Not until recently did I find out, exactly where. In February after my late Great Grand-Mother, Mrs. Mabel Vaughn Thomas' funeral, my grandmother took me on a mini field trip to where she and her and her siblings were raised.
Interesting to say the least. I'm such a history buff, and for some reason, it filled my heart to hear my grandmother say "Here's where my daddy worked".

My "Granny" was never big on speaking about the past. I wouldn't be either, had I been a black woman raised in the 40's and 50's. That week-end she showed me everything! As a child, I remember failing a "family tree" assignment because she wouldn't tell me ANYTHING! lol.
My grandmother was the 5th child, born to Mabel and Elijah Thomas, in Chamberlin, La. They come from a family of share croppers. There are still some of the little homes in the town that are still occupied. Elijah worked in a paper mill (pictured right).

Honestly, I still couldn't tell you if I were Ghanaian, Nigerian, or Senegalese, but at least now I know something.

By the way. My great granny, Miss Mabel [Maw-Me] was a pretty awesome woman. If you live in the Long Beach, Ca area check out Mabels Gourmet Pralines
It's our family recipe and an awesome store that my aunt founded a few years ago.

(L; families church, M; Granny being disrespectful standing on graves, R; Homes)