Language is a powerful tool. The words we use matter.

Slave. Negro. Colored. Black. Physical descriptors were used as a means to cast us out and mark us. You were different in part because you looked different.

And now we have African-American linking us to a non-descriptive place without meaning while including every black person in American who is African or of African descent. Any black person entering the United States is suddenly African-American. 

We are more than an abstract ideal of a place in Africa. We’re more than an amalgamation of racial features and terms.


"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter – it’s the difference between the lightning bug and the lightening."

— Mark Twain

Adosa, (American Descendants of Slavery in the United States of America from 1615-1865) is a lineage. It is a culture, it is a people, and it is an experience that is unique in the country.

And we have never been compensated, never been acknowledged – except to indicate anything that could possibly be negative about a human.

That’s not who Adosa are. That’s not what an Adosa is. Adosa are beautiful. We are warm, smart, creative, and resilient. Embracing this linage and a name is not divisive. It is acknowledging the unique place in which Adosa sit. Ours is not an immigrant's tale. 

Only space and time span infinity. To be is to have a form; it is to have boundaries and a name. Adosa.