The Americas' legacy of slavery

I literally fought back tears last week while having lunch at a very prestigious tennis club in Ecuador after noticing that nearly all of ball boys were black. The club didn't seem to have blacks even touching the food like you would find in the United States. Food service seemed to be reserved for the lower class, mixed-raced Native Americans.

Like many countries in North, Central, and South America, there is a mixed population of folks who are of Spanish (i.e., Spain), European, Native American, and African descent. Native Americans are descendants of those oppressed by Spanish and other Europeans, and we all know about the "cruise ships" on which the black's African ancestors arrived. Centuries later, however, not much has changed for the masses. Those of European descent tend to sit at the top of American societies while those of Native American and African descent remain at the bottom.

Recalling my recent experience to my father reminded him of the "whites-only" public golf courses where all the caddies were black throughout most of his life. I am still processing the non-verbals when I made eye contact with several of these black Ecuadorian kids and the look of shock on their faces to see someone who is dark like them having lunch at the club instead chasing behind the yellow balls of someone whose had family members originating in Europe.

When several of the black ball boys stared at me with confusion and curiosity, they seemed to be asking, "Who is this?" It reminded me of the looks I received recently during dinner at a very prestigious tennis club in Philadelphia where the members were all white and the servers were, as usual, all black. And the wedding reception I attended last year at an all-white country club in South Carolina where I experienced the same thing. It was as if it were 1930. It's strange to be the only black person not serving food or busing tables in a room of hundreds of white people.

As our lunch in Ecuador ended, I was overwhelmed at what happened. When we were leaving the tennis club, one of the black Ecuadorian boys ran up to me for the sole purpose of shaking my hand. This black kid had an explosive smile on his face. I didn't know what to do. I regret not engaging him in short conversation to encourage him that it is possible for him to rise above being perpetual servants of European descendants.

Later that day, while waiting on my flight to Quito, I lost the fight to hold back the tears, as I reflected on my encounter with this black kid. The black Ecuadorian ball boys reconfirm a pattern I see throughout the Americas when I travel: Wherever African slave trading ships docked or crashed, there you will find African descendants at the bottom of society and European descendants at the top. Hundreds of years later, this legacy of slavery and conquest is emotionally taxing to witness repeatedly and leaves me wondering if change is possible for the masses of African slave descendants and Native Americans who remain, in general, stuck in low socio-economic classes.