Language is power

Words can lift a people — or bury them. For too long, others have named us. They called us “Black,” a color loaded with centuries of negative connotation, and expected us to wear it as a skin and a sentence. We choose precision instead of reduction. We choose truth over habit. We choose Afro.

Why we reject “Black” as our name

In common English, “black” is used to mean bleak, wicked, illicit, unlucky — a black mark, a black mood, a blacklist. These are color metaphors, not a people. We do not accept a label whose dictionary shadows are draped over our humanity. We are not an adjective. We are not a color. We are a lineage.

Why “African American” doesn’t name our distinct lineage

Some of our brothers and sisters come from Africa by choice — immigrating and becoming American citizens. Honor to them. But our line did not arrive by choice. Our forebears were taken, enslaved in America, emancipated in America, and made a people here. We are the children of that emancipation — a freeman line, generation after generation on American soil.

Afro: our self-definition

Afro (n.) A person of enslaved African descent born in America; a freeman whose ancestry traces to U.S. slavery and emancipation; an American by birthright and contribution. Afro is not shorthand — it is the thing itself.

We are not Black. We are not “just” African American. We are Afro — a people forged in struggle, standing for unity and peace through the precision of our name.

Unity through precision

Precision is not division — it is respect. When we name ourselves accurately, we end the argument over what we are not, and we unite around what we are. Clarity builds solidarity. A precise name teaches our children they are more than a shade, more than a stereotype, more than a checkbox.

Citizenship, dignity, peace

We stand under the Constitution as freemen and freewomen. Our claim is not a color code; it is a civic fact and a sacred inheritance. Peace is our posture. Unity is our practice. Precision is our protection.

The declaration

• We refuse labels that reduce us to color or cliché.
• We honor our enslaved and emancipated ancestors with a name that fits our lineage.
• We claim our birthright as Americans — fully, freely, and without apology.
• We choose unity and peace, grounded in the precision of our language.

We are Afro. Not a color. A people. Not division. Precision. Not bitterness. Peace. United, free, and forward.

Use of “Afro” here reflects a self-chosen identity rooted in U.S. slavery and emancipation. The intent is unity and peace through precise, dignified language.