When I was 14 years old, my parents took me to see the film above. 14. My own ideas of politics, race, identity and country were still deep in the murky waters of youthful ignorance.
I was a 14-year-old Black French girl whose last name was French, but I was not Haitian. I was not Louisianan Creole. My family did not come from the Caribbean or Africa. So how is it possible that I could be French? Identity crisis 'r us? The idea of Black people in Europe, particularly France, seemed like an impossibility to most of my classmates. The French images that many of us high schoolers were introduced to were the stereotypical (of course): Berets, baguettes, accordions, accents like Pepé Le Pew, and lastly, white... These images totally contrasted with the brown and black faces I saw in the streets of Paris. Europe was synonymous with white, and therefore, if you were Black, you had to be from some place else. It was so frustrating.
I have a French passport. Majority of my family is in France. But here's the gotcha -- they are not black, they are white.
The film Lumumba came into my life during a time of personal frustration. The frustration of explaining to people. Lumumba validated the many complexities of my identity, even though the film took place in Africa. It was the first time I visibly and consciously saw black people speaking French, not only through my own eyes, in my own life, but on a huge theater screen.
His name was Patrice Lumumba. He fought for Congo's independence from Belgium, and was elected the first prime minister of the Republic of Congo in 1960. He stood for pan-Africanism and anti-imperialism. And this was all articulated in the language of my father, my language too. Though ironically enough, my relationship with Europe was not through the story of colonization, but from the other side of the coin -- my relatives, my family, were from the "imperialist" nation.
Lumumba sparked a flame within me that made me search for myself within the larger image of Africa, Europe and America. He helped me cross my first bridge.
I always say when a film makes you look deep beneath the surface, that's a good film.
-Sophia
