THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, September 9, 1994 TAG: 9409090723
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Marc Tibbs
LENGTH: Medium: 76 lines
Last year I attended and wrote about Portsmouth's annual Umoja Festival. It's a three-day, end-of-summer party aimed at celebrating African-American heritage.
I'd gotten the notion to find out what whites thought of Umoja, and some of the people I talked to said some pretty profound things. Things that, on the eve of this year's festival next weekend, bear repeating. The impressions they left on me seem worth repeating, too.
Umoja was started four years ago as a way to entertain visiting Shriners during their annual Fish Bowl Classic. But it has become much more.
The word itself means unity in the Kiswahili language, and part of the festival's purpose is to foster unity in the community and in the family, and the unity of purpose in the individual. The festival makes great strides toward promoting that goal.
Hospital corpsman Daryl Richardson, 19, had been in town only three weeks before he discovered Umoja last year. He spotted the festival from a nearby bank parking lot.
Richardson, who is white, said, ``My first thought was to get back in my car, and get the hell out of here. I saw all these black people and I thought, they can't all be good.''
He ventured down to the waterfront just the same. He was greeted by the sounds of smooth and whining rhythms of reggae music.
``I like reggae,'' he said, snapping his fingers.
He next ``saw someone chopping something green, and then drinking from it.''
It was one of the fresh coconuts being sold and imbibed throughout the festival.
Richard bought a coconut, added his own libatious touch and continued his walk through the festival grounds.
``I felt a little uncomfortable at first,'' he said, ``because people were staring at me. But then I realized they weren't staring at me; they were looking at the coconut.
``One guy asked me: `What's that taste like?' And I handed it to him, and he drank from it.''
In that one gesture, Richardson's racial apprehensions vanished.
``I've had some good and bad racial experiences, some of them in my own barracks,'' he said, ``but I come out here, and people are friendly and courteous.''
Restaurant owner Jack Lofton, who also is white, was equally enlightened by the festival.
``White people who aren't here don't know what they're missing,'' he said. ``This isn't a radical concept. It's a very friendly environment. Some real classy people.''
While Umoja does wonders for the self-esteem of African-Americans as a whole, it's also an event that can enlighten people of any race, and thereby ease the racial tensions that so beset us.
That fact was perhaps best pointed out by Richardson, who was perplexed by one of the African masks on sale at last year's festival.
``I don't understand a lot of it,'' he said. ``Look at the big lips. I'd think some people might find that offensive.''
I borrowed a cosmetic mirror from one of the vendors and asked my new friend to look at his own lips and then had him look at mine.
He saw that the mask simply reflected our differences, and that to an African-American, full lips are just as beautiful as a thin pair.
Just ask full-lipped actresses Julia Roberts, Geena Davis or Barbara Hershey.
An event like Umoja can be life-giving in cultural scope. ILLUSTRATION: Color illustration
Umoja Festival
The celebration starts at noon Sept. 16 at Veteran's Riverfront Park
and Portside in downtown Portsmouth.
by CNB