After I left three years of full-time ministry I worked a stint for Nordstrom, a department store known for their Yearly and Half-Yearly sales, in addition to their high-end merchandise. One of the interesting things about working at this Nordstrom is that it is located in the richest, most diverse county in the country: Fairfax County in Northern Virginia, outside of Washington, D.C..
Aside from the killer comission and earning potential, one of the joys while working during those few months was the sheer diversity of people with whom I came into contact. In my department, a tapestry of religions were represented, including six Muslims, an Orthodox Jew, a Sikh, a Buddhist, a few non-Western Christians and others who were spiritual, but non-religious. Additionally, 90% of my co-workers were originally from other nations. Ethiopians, a Moroccan, Somalian, Gabonian, an Indian, Afghani–Japanese-American, and a Columbian–Pakistani-American created a fantastic work environment. It was in this environment that a single question from one of my co-workers sparked some thoughts in me about pieces of my family tree that I had never considered before.
“Is your name African?”
That question set off a flutter of thoughts!
Technorati Tags: africa, bouma, christianity, colonialism, dutch, election, family tree, post-colonialism, african colonialism, slave trade
As a thoroughly white Midwest American in the strictest, WASPian sense of the description, I couldn’t help but bust a gut, for a very long time! Obviously, my African co-workers got a kick out of it, too, but they were curious, because they came from a part of the world where my ancestors were a part of something I could only touch and feel at movie length.
You see, my last name is Dutch in origin (Bouma means “baker,” I think), and the Dutch Empire used its naval and military might to colonize parts of western and southern Africa. Through such trading companies as the Dutch East Indies Company and Dutch West Indies Company, the Kingdom of The Netherlands used this might to leverage trade to newly discovered lands outside of Europe. It was through the Dutch West Indies Company, though, that my family name spread.
While I cannot be certain what these Bouma ancestors were specifically involved in, I can gather that at least some of them would have owned and sold Africans as a commercial endeavor. I can picture these Dutchmen sailing to the New World as a sort of entrepreneurial endeavor, kind of like the Land Rush or Gold Rush of the wild, untamed west in the teenage years of our country. But instead of investing in land or mining commodities (or perhaps cattle or sheep or a new plough back in the Netherlands), these men invested in the resources of others to such a point that even the “others” became resources themselves.
So Mr. Bouma stepped off the boat into a vast, untapped world of economic potential. But, of course, that potential was only as good as the labor pool available to tap the untappedness.
Like those owned on American plantations, slaves in such colonial establishments took on the name of their Master as a sign of ownership. What’s more, those who were sold and shipped carried these marks along with them into the Old World. Thus, there are Africans with European last names.
More significantly enough: there are Africans with the Bouma last name!
Of course, this extrapolation and projection upon my sacred branches is only a guess. But I do wonder…
And while I am not necessarily a reparationist, outside of recognizing past colonial misdeeds and seeking forgiveness and restoration of such atrocities, I still cannot help but think about the Bouma family tree and to what level of involvement in African colonialism and slave trade my ancestors participated. More significantly, however, is the more personal question: in what ways do I as an American (let alone a follower of Jesus!) participate in modern-day acts of colonialism? Or more significantly yet, “how should my faith in Jesus look in a post-Colonial world and how can I let such a post-Colonial faith emerge?
While most people wouldn’t give a passing glance to thoughts of the tension of faith and post-Colonialism, I think it is vital in this new globoPomo (globalization, postmodern) world. Important enough to warrant another post or two.
-jeremy
