SAM - Narration: 0:00

When you hear the word papers. What comes to mind? Maybe you're a student. and your first thought is your grade or your classes. If you're embedded in. hip hop culture. Maybe your first thought is money. If you're Dwight Schrute from the office. You're. thinking about printing paper. But if you're like me, who spent most of their life. undocumented. When you hear.“papers. You think about your immigration status? In west African culture. You would hear the term papers? And you knew it was meant to. get an understanding of what your status, was? in the United States. They weren't talking about money. They weren't talking about grades or your classes. But they were technically talking about printing paper. And my. formative years, my late teenage to my early twenties. I spent. a lot of time worried about my papers. If I would hear the term. It will produce some form of anxiety. That's what comes to mind for me? What about you? AJ?

AJ - Narration: 1:04

I think if this question came to me a few years ago, I might've had a different answer, but right now, the first thing I can think of is my mom's will, she literally emailed it to me a couple of days ago. Then the next thing I think of is ancestry and the lack of a paper trail that I have in terms of my family history. I'm from the Lua tribe in Kenya, and we have a rich oral tradition. So our history in lessons are often passed down through stories. As a student of history, I'm learning how papers are essential in being able to establish yourself in different aspects of life. When thinking about Black American history in the context of slavery, for example, I think about how Black folks needed permission slips to be out and about and how those pieces of paper enabled movement. During the civil war, Harriet Tubman got a pass from union general, David Hunter in 1863 that allowed her safe passage in and out of union territory. When I think of paper, I also think of the money needed to buy your freedom. during those times. Moving further through history, during the south African apartheid. For example, we know of the past books needed to move through different townships and cities. There's an exciting intersection of cultures, community, and history that comes up for me. When I think of papers. still, one thing that doesn't always come up. Is my own paperwork as a citizen. Your history shakes were coming through there. But before we go too far down the history rabbit hole. Let's introduce ourselves. My name is Samuel Adaramola I'm a first-generation Nigerian. I am. You're about to be exact. But I ain't a demon. I'm an entrepreneur and a professional creative. And I love storytelling and all its forms. I'm a husband. I'm a father. And I love black culture. from all across the world. No matter where we are. I'm rooting for us. Better list them stats. My name is Anyway, and I'm a community educator that focuses on black American history. Through dynamic storytelling. My whole point is to make sure that we are telling history from the perspective of black folks being active participants. in our own liberation. I'm a proud Kenyan. The firstborn of a firstborn. And so I hold legacy. in high regard. I'm really excited to be able to add to my family legacy through this project and to always, always route. For black people and black culture.

SAM - Narration: 3:44

So, what is this podcast? Papers for my acres. Well, it's a podcast about black discovery from the lens of the diaspora, as told by two first-generation. Africans. Uh, firstborn and the last born. It's discovery of culture. Discovery of history. And discovery of friendship and whatever in between. And in this first episode, in this very first season, we're going to keep it light and loose.

AJ - Narration: 4:13

Um, things may get a little heavy too.

SAM - Narration: 4:16

A quick heads up. This episode contains some language, not suitable for the kids. I think this podcast in general will have language, not suitable for the kids. We're not trying to tell you how to raise your children, but giving you the courtesy. Do with that information, what you will. All right, let's get into it. So in this first episode, we're going to talk about our origin story, the moments in our life that made us who we are.

AJ - Narration: 4:50

For sure. Basically, we're going to find out how Cal Lil went from Krypton to Kansas.

SAM - Narration: 4:55

So who are the heroes in this story?

AJ - Narration: 4:58

Um, may I, homie, I don't know about that because as immigrant kids, I'm pretty sure we had to save ourselves. a bunch of times.

SAM - Narration: 5:06

Uh, facts. And that's on therapy.

AJ - Narration: 5:10

All right, Sam. So what's your prince. I came coming to America story. How did that whole thing play out? for you?

SAM - Narration: 5:19

My coming to America story. Well, I don't remember coming to America because I was only two years old. I can tell you from my firsthand experience, what it was like getting on an airplane for the first time, or my reaction to the cold weather. or the smell of New York city when we arrived. But the short story is that my mother got the opportunity to come. The details of how are complicated from what I gathered. But I, the youngest of her three children, was fortunate enough to be young enough not to be left behind. My oldest sister and brother, has siblings. I had to stay back. My mother planned to file for them to join us eventually. But it never worked out that way. That, perhaps. Is an episode for another season. But that's my coming to America story. The short version. Now my staying in America story. That's got way more drama. It's not quite. Carlo. Well going from Krypton to Kansas, but. The hardships. I did go through, did give me some. Superhuman abilities. Morisseau the traumatic events you go through that helped define your character, for better or worse. The story in general is a little sad, but in the end, it proves to be a triumphant tale. So, it all starts in high school, around my junior year, I was a student athlete. My sport of choice was track and field. Really, my sport of choice was football, but one day, my mom dropped me at practice, and when she saw that it wasn't soccer, she made me quit. So, I took up track and field instead. It was non contact, so my mom approved, and one of the football coaches was also the head coach of the track team. So, the transition was seamless. Now, I was far from a track star. However, I was decent enough to gain interest from some. Lower division schools in the area. I distinctly remember my coach slapping a bunch of envelopes against my chest and saying, “congratulations. I had gotten a dozen interest letters. And it was a very exciting time for you boy. College was always the goal! for my family and I, and being a student athlete. was my ticket. to achieving that. In addition to being first generation Nigerian in America. I was also going to be first-generation college bound. Part of being recruited required. Some documentation. And one of the documents for the NCAA. Required providing a social security number. I never needed this information before. And I figured my parents would have the answer. So when I got home, I shared the news with them that. Hey, I got all these interests letters and I had to fill out these documents. Do y'all know “what my social security number is. And that's when things changed. It turns out they didn't know my social security number because those nine digits didn't exist. And for the first time. At that very moment. I realized I didn't have any status in this country. I was undocumented. And I find it out at the most important time. I had to document. some shit. How come, I don't have a social security number. How does this happen? Do y'all have status in this country? Are y'all permanent residents? are y'all citizens. These are the questions I asked my parents. My father was already a citizen through the Reagan immigration reform act in 1986. And my mom had her permanent residency through complicated means. They're documented status. Left me more confused. Well, I didn't, I, their son, have any status up until this point. How did I slip through the cracks? No answer they could have given me then would have made me feel any better. My dad eventually starts the application process for my permanent residency. And that allow me to get a conditional social security number. While I was finally able to get those nine digits. It was only valid for work. I couldn't use them for what I initially needed them for. Not being a us citizen. I wasn't able to take advantage of those athletic scholarship opportunities. And to make matters worse. Around that same time. My mother started to get an affection on her foot. It became gangrene. And soon after, we discovered she had been living with diabetes for quite some time. And it was left untreated. Her condition. Resulted in the loss of blood flow to her foot. So, they had to amputate it. I barely had the time to process the emotional effects of what was going on with my immigration status before I had to deal with the shock. Of my mother's condition. And her mortality. I remember feeling, for the first time, that I could lose my mom. It's hard to imagine life without the people who raised you. You can't imagine life without them, because you don't know life without them. They've always been there. I remember that time. I couldn't just "be" anymore. Everything was heavy. Everything. Everything felt consequential. I just wanted to go to college. and run around a track. And jump in some sand. That couldn't happen. anymore. That wasn't going to be my life. We went from a two income household in the suburbs, living in a single family, home on a cul-de-sac with a basketball court in the back. To quickly becoming a single income household. Relying on disability checks and food stamps. Living in a two bedroom apartment on the side of town where robberies were common.(My cousin who lived with us at the time actually got robbed at gunpoint on two separate occasions coming from work.. The first car I ever had uh,' the memories.) So within three years of discovering my status. I do a lot of things. My get a job at Starbucks. Your boy is going to be a coffee master. I also enrolled in a community. college. I couldn't be a student athlete anymore, but at least I could just be a student. I couldn't get financial aid. So I took one class a semester, using a monthly installment plan to pay for. A single class. here and there. It was really at a snail's pace. Also, my parents split up. My dad left, and I stayed with my mom, along with my cousins who were living with us. So, I worked to do my best to provide around the house. And so to my cousins, And eventually I earned enough credits to transfer it to a four-year school that wasn't too far from home. And just as I was preparing to go to that school. We got a letter from the immigration office. My application for permanent residency. Was denied. Not only that. My work permit would now be voided. And what really made my heart jump out of my chest was reading that I be immediately put on deportation. So it turns out there was a discrepancy in the travel document status use for me to get here. There was a clerical error. On the birthdate. And there was no way for me to prove that the young child on the passport was me.(Even though it really was. This was another blow. But I still ended up going to that four year school. Making a similar payment arrangement. And what was able to. Make it through the first semester. Then there were my first winter break. My dad has a stroke. Leaving him disabled. now. He's now joined my mom, relying on government assistance for the rest of his life. All this while now facing deportation. Shit was bad. Shit was really bad. We had to hire an immigration lawyer to help with my case. The plan was to buy time because we hoped that there would be some relief for people in my situation. This was happening around Obama's first term in 2008. And there was a lot of excitement around the things he would be doing during his term in office. One of them was passing the dream act. A pathway to citizenship for early childhood arrivals. People like me. But then never came to be. We ended up with (DACA), though. D a C a. Which didn't come until much later than I needed it. to. So, with all of my options, seemingly at zero. On the second to last hearing. Before I find out if I'd be deported or not. My lawyer asked me about my parents. It was then I revealed to him everything that was going on with their condition and the state. of their health. He tells me that there's a chance for me after hall, after hearing this information. I could qualify for something called “cancellation of removal. But you had to meet certain requirements. One. You have to prove that you have been physically present in the United States for a continuous period of 10 years. I had the school records to prove that. Too. You had to prove that you've been a person of good moral character. During that 10-year period. I had people submit affidavits of support. Through my whole. Filing process anyway, so I had people testify already. In three. You have to have not been convicted of any crimes. My record was clean. And still is. And lastly, you have to prove that your removal. Would result in exceptional. and extremely unusual hardship. To the us. citizen. Or lawful permanent resident, family member. Bingo. It was that last part. The extreme and unusual hardship to a us. citizen or lawful permanent resident. family member. That was most difficult to prove. And most people don't get granted cancellation of removal because they can't, prove that. But with my mother and my father's condition. We had a very strong case. So in the final hearing. The hearing where I will. Find out what my fate would be in America. Would I be allowed to stay. Or would I be deported? In that final hearing. I was allowed to bring my parents as witnesses. The judge could see with his own two eyes. That their only child in America. That his removal, my removal would indeed. Result in exceptional. And unusual and extreme hardship for them. And that was allowed to stay. And my original application that was denied. Was. Reinstated and an approved. You know that saying, you make your plan and God laughs. That's what I think of when I look back on this. This was a very tumultuous time for me. And for better or worse. It's made me who I am. There is a sense of resiliency that I now have. From going through that. There's a sense of empathy. I have. Seeing my two parents age rapidly as their health decline while I was still a young man. But there are also things that I'm not so sure I've truly unpacked yet. But I'm certainly open to discovering what those are. So that's my story. Although it ended in what my family ultimately wanted. It's incredibly sad. What it took for me to get my papers. What's your story AAJ.

AJ - Narration: 19:50

Mine starts off feeling pretty straightforward. But when I really think about it, it certainly wasn't. The more I learned about the PEM dose of it all. I was seven. And I remember being at the Nairobi airport with a bunch of my family, all saying bye to me and my mom. I had met my future stepbrother by then. And I was excited about the idea of going to America and eating McDonald's since that's what America meant to me at that time. We landed in Sacramento, and things were okay at first until they weren't. In Kenya. My mom worked for total petrol and wasn't accomplished and established woman. By the time we were getting ready to move to the states. But when we arrived, she ended up working as a janitor at a flower shop as her first job. We knew nothing of the system. And her ex-husband turned into an abusive pile of hot garbage. While my mom and stepbrother, for the most part, did their best to protect me. When I look back, I feel a lot of rage at what she had to survive. We went from living in a three-story house in Kenya, where my mom owned multiple businesses, to leaving all that behind, to move to the land of milk and honey. Then, one day in the middle of the night, having to leave California. And we found ourselves in a battered women's shelter in Seattle. I wonder if I get my ‘fuck it, I'll do it’ nature from my mom because this lady decided that she would figure out our citizenship and made it. So. she practically lived at the library when I was in school and got the help that she needed to get her ducks in a row. Because she understood the importance of us having our papers. I remembered the elation and relief that moved across her face. When our citizenship was finalized. As I watched her at the citizenship confirmation, saying the pledge of allegiance. With age and maturity and a little more wisdom than I had back then. I understand the sense of urgency, fueling her to get this done before I turned 15. So she wouldn't need to go through all that paperwork for me. again. So essentially I grandfathered in. That was also during a time when I really started to feel abandoned by my mom due to the intensity of her work. Not even a year after leaving the shelter. She got a stable housing and got a job at the gates foundation at its inception. She started traveling with folks like president Jimmy Carter and bill gates, Sr. And soon, my mom wasn't mine anymore. I miss the closeness I had with her in Kenya. I missed the intentionality she put into our relationship. And the time together due to the stability she had created for us in Kenya. I went from seeing my mom all the time to being alone for weeks and eventually months at a time in high school. Due to her working. So, yes, I am. I feel you on that African nature of having to leave your child behind. At some point, I started to resent Kenya and the village for taking my mom away from me. By the time I was in high school, I had an acute feeling of loneliness and did not have the words to express it. So I rebelled. I didn't want to speak the language. I didn't want my mom to come up to the school because her accent was thick and noticeable. I just wanted to be “normal, whatever that meant. And being Kenyan was a steadfast reminder of how abnormal my life was. Once I got to college, I don't think I got to spend any holidays with her. No Thanksgivings, no Christmas, no new years. She was always in Kenya around that time, working on a project. So far she's built a school. Uh, community center. Uh, healthcare center, a daycare center. She's enacted micro loan programs for women's groups, created catering businesses for those women to be able to sustain themselves. And there's so much more to help shore up the community that she loves that has been ravaged by HIV aids. As I got older, my interest in my little culture started to get a little stronger. I started asking my mom, almost begging her, for help in strengthening my little language abilities. And helping me with my understanding of cultural practices. Especially because I grew up here in the states. But it felt like there was never enough time or grace or empathy. For me. There's a moment that comes to mind when I was in Kenya, in 2019, that feels like it encompasses this feeling. I was sitting in the living room with my mom, (my grandma, and some unsung cousins, watching Premier League. I remember asking a question about Luo naming practices, and my mom's response made it seem like she was shocked that I didn't know what might have been considered a basic concept. I remember feeling small and embarrassed because I already felt isolated and lonely when visiting family since I was the American kid, and then to have her respond emphatically like that just added to that. isolation and feeling of otherness. Loki. Well, maybe more like mid key. We still haven't really resolved this, still. I will say I had to do a lot of internal work, not to isolate myself from my culture. Uh, due to the experiences I've had with my mom around learning about my tribe. Now, I'm almost obsessed with learning as much as I can, about Louisville culture. And that's also been a point of contention with my mom since she is stretched so thin. That I'm the one that gets the least of her. So I feel like I have to go at it alone. When I'm feeling down in the dumps. I feel like my coming and staying in America story is really boiled down to being alone and having to be overly self-sufficient. Because once we got here, She wasn't just mine anymore. And she never really came back to me. And so I had to make my peace with that. Even with all that heavy emotion that comes with all of this. The strongest feeling I get when thinking of my coming to America story is admiration and pride in my mother for her ability to do what needed to be done, to ensure that we were okay. She was five years down in a country that was unfamiliar with her child. And had to start all over again in a new state, because a dipshit over a human decided to use her as a punching bag since he knew he had powers over her. And her papers. My mom did such a brilliant job protecting me, that I didn't even realize that we were at a shelter for almost a month until I was in my late teens. And she just laid it out plainly for me. I had such a blind trust in my mom. A deep belief that if she said everything was going to be okay, Then it would. That love and protection is the same that I feel from my mom. now. I can only imagine what kind of fortitude one would need to be able to function in that chaotic, hostile environment. And come out as intact as she is, then raise a kid who with the help of therapy. He is fairly happy and solid, despite all of it. My hope for the podcast is really simple. To be honest. To be joyful in our discoveries to do a little healing and to build on this amazing friendship that we've been able to create. Finding out that we're two weeks apart was kind of crazy. Cause we're literally like twins. But in addition to all that, I really just want to be able to share my love of black history, black culture, black people. And to create a way for us to bridge this gap in the diaspora. And doing it with somebody who feels like we were separated at birth. Just adds to it. Makes this adventure really worthwhile. Yeah, that's, that's super valid. I think we've really developed a fast friendship. and, you know, In preparation for this podcast, we spent a lot of time together. We spend some time doing a lot of tests, recordings and prep work. And it's actually making me want to revisit one of those moments that we had. And one of our test recordings, if you will. Where we shared a genuine moment of appreciation for one another.

Sam: 28:43

What makes me excited to do this with you? The people listening won't even know story of how we got to this point. The twist, the turns, the shocking revelations, if you will.

AJ: 28:56

Yeah, Plymouth Rock landed on us.

Sam: 28:58

Plymouth ride that landed on us. Ah, but I'm excited to, one, just to continue to build our friendship. I love fast friendships. it's not the time you put in is what you put into the time and what I value about fast friendships is like takes all the compounding of the experience we have in life and immediately connecting with someone and they're already vetted. I don't need to know you for a long time, but the experiences that we have, the understandings that we have about each other. immediately makes us, friends

AJ: 29:39

yeah.

Sam: 29:40

And what we finna explore with papers from my acres and not just with this pilot season, but just the future in general, we're going to learn more about each other. And I'm excited to learn more from you A savant history,, someone who's a great storyteller, great speaker, you know your shit and I'm excited to just honestly learn from you in this experience. But , yeah. And I love that , you give flowers too,

AJ: 30:15

Oh yeah, no, I'm about to, I'm about to, I'm about to, , I'm going to put some manure and some fertilizer on this real quick., one of the curious things about living in a very quote unquote liberal white city is Once I really started getting into history and understanding Blackness outside of my own experience, but understanding Blackness historically, it's been fascinating the lack of strong Black friendships that I have been able to have, just because the way Seattle is set up is like, they pit Black people against each other. And so those fast friendships out here, you don't really, at least for me, I have not been able to create fast friendships just because. It's like, you got to look at everybody's suspect. You got to look at everybody sideways, you know, and you know, your gut feeling will tell you like, yeah, I rock with this person or like, Hmm, something, something feel a little off. But ever since our first, uh, our first introduction to each other, I was like, you know what? I like this chocolatey man. I don't know what it is, I like this chocolatey man. And then we found out we're two weeks apart. I was like, Oh yeah. Like it's twin, evil twin for now. One of the things that I really enjoy about you is like you give me Bob Moses vibes, and I'm gonna be real specific about this. Um,

Sam: 31:24

Okay. Hey, hey. Y she's, wait a minute, me take a deep breath.'cause I'm about to be flowers. I'm about to be given

AJ: 31:32

Absolutely. Now, look, um, as we go on the journey of this podcast, uh, you are going to, uh, hear me experience something called the history shakes. And that is really when I get really excited about a topic and I will do my best to not speak quickly, but that's just how it is. All right.

Sam: 31:47

Don't worry, y'all. I'll, I'll, I'll reel it back in to the best of my

AJ: 31:50

Please, please. Cause' Sam: cause I'm, I'm, I might be, Like I, I'm, I'm might, I'm gonna be like, Mm-Hmm.. Yeah. Right. But maybe I don't exactly know what you're talking about. So I'm be like, Hey aj, can you run that back real quick? now I'm trying to like, I'm trying to like, calm down. Okay. So. So, Bob Moses, um, was one of the greatest, uh, civil rights minds, I think that has ever existed personally. He's one of my favorite people to study. Uh, he really came about, uh, I'd say like 61 ish when SNCC had started. Now the dope part about SNCC, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, was Ella Baker understood, Mrs. Ella, uh, Ella Jo Baker understood at the time that the, uh, Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Was not the place for young people to be. And so she was like, y'all go start your own thing, especially after the sit ins had happened. So she was like, y'all go start your own thing. Now, initially snake has started as a direct action, um, organization where they were going to go and desegregate lunch calendars and other spaces, but then Bob Moses came down. He used to teach at Horace man, um, up in, up in New York. And he came down and he was like, yo, you know, like. We need to start talking about voter registration, and eventually he would go and he would live amongst the sharecroppers and deep, deep, deep in the Delta where nobody else was trying to go. And the thing about Bob Moses that made him a brilliant leader is he was like, I do not have the answers. What I do have is questions, and I'm going to pose this questions to the group and then we are going to figure it out together. It was never a. forceful leadership. There are many images of Bob Moses where he's sitting in the back of the room and like on the floor sitting crisscross applesauce or something like just taking notes and then crafting, uh, ways and opportunities for people to work together. And always he was honest. He was honest to a fault. In June of 1964, Bob Moses was up in Ohio, I believe, talking to, um, a group of white students because they were getting ready to do the Freedom Summer campaign in Mississippi, and that's when, uh, the three civil rights workers, Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner, were murdered. Essentially, they had disappeared. They hadn't done their check in as they were supposed to. And so one of the SNCC members had come up to Bob Moses and whispered in his ear, and it was just like, hey, you know, we can't get a hold of Chaney, Goodman, and Schwerner. And at that moment, Bob Moses could have just been like, okay, cool. And then continue talking to the white students. But he was like, look, if we're going to have hundreds of white students come down to the South to engage in voter registration, um, in some of the most dangerous areas for them, we need to be honest. So he told him, he was like, Hey, I just want you to know that. Two white men and a black man have disappeared. We don't know where they are. And we think that something bad has happened to them. So this is what you need to understand. Like, this is what you are willing to do. If you are willing to put yourself in this kind of danger, then like, let's go change the world. And I feel like your ability to have honest conversations, your ability to put a mirror in front of yourself and your ability to lead in such a quiet and powerful way without like beating your chest in the ways that are tied to like dumbass, toxic masculinity. Makes me feel like, all right, whatever this man needs, like, I don't even need too many details. Like, let's just go, let's just go, let's go do this thing. And so going through the process of like building this podcast with you and, you know, figuring out how we want to put it together and then having conversations has been. One of my favorite things of like last year, the, the tail end of, of 2023 and like 2024 and that in and of itself, I think is going to be the like heartbeat of this podcast, personally, I have so much love and respect for you. And also I think your. I don't know, like your chocolatey goodness, just like it comes out in everything that you do, you know, and I really do want to use and say chocolatey goodness because I can understand like how that shaped the way that, you know, you could have seen yourself, but there is something so beautiful about you inside and out. And I want that also to be showcased on the show. Like I want the friendship to be a core piece of the show. And I want us to be able to give each other flowers at all times, especially because I don't believe that black men, especially African black men receive their flowers as much as they should. But yeah, you, you, my Bob Moses, like I'm rocking with you till the wheels fall off. Cause it just there, I have not found. a fast friendship like this that encourages me in the way that you have, you know, and shout out to Mike, you know, we're not going, we're not going to forget Mike, the mover, but you in particular, I have such a deep love and deep respect for you. Um, that I'm like, I'm geeked. I'm pumped to. To go on this grand adventure with you. So I just want, you know, to put that, uh, into the universe and, and on, on tape, cause like, you really, you really, my guy, like we really twinning now here and, um, you know, I got mad love for you and I'm really excited to do this thing with you.

Sam: 36:36

I'm trying to

AJ: 36:39

It's okay. Take your time. Take your, take your time. Take your time.

Sam: 36:42

was deep.

AJ: 36:43

Take your time. Yeah.

Sam: 36:44

yeah, I, I see, I see what you're saying. And by no means, I know you're not like, it's not a one to one comparison.

AJ: 36:51

Yeah.

Sam: 36:52

I know I'm not Bob Moses, but I do, I don't like to present myself as someone who has the solutions. I'm like, yeah, let's, let's figure shit out. And, and often that's what, you know, is required to, to do anything great. Just, Being an okay with navigating uncharted territories. And that's what so much, so much of our ancestors had to do for us to, to be here, to hit record and talk on a microphone. And, you know, at the very least, uh, I want to continue to, to. To not fall short of your standards and I, I say that in jest, but also like, you know, it's as, as black men so often do we just keep it moving. We don't reflect, we don't think about how we feel the, what culture has normalized with men and specifically black men is we just have to endure and continue. And I hope that at the back end of this, of this podcast and what we explore is the evolution of what, what a relationship between black man and black woman can be.

AJ - Narration: 38:21

For the inaugural season of papers for my acres, we're going to be talking about the term African booty scratcher. A phrase that while we don't really know exactly where it came from or who started it, it definitely is something that has resonated with both black American and African immigrants in this country as a term that is used to stereotype and mock African cultures. We hope that this season sheds light on the complexities and internal challenges faced by folks across the diaspora while also introducing y'all to some really dope people who have some amazing thoughts on this whole topic.

Dr Kadeba: 39:00

I remember bits and pieces of the first time I heard the word. It's multiple words, but the terminology being used, and I cannot specifically place it on whether it was used towards me, whether it was used as a joke towards somebody else wait, African booty scratcher, as in what does that mean? It's the equivalent of the word Bushman and that, that's how it's being described.

SAM - Narration: 39:25

On the next episode, we dive into the film.“The gods must be crazy” as we welcome Dr. Miriam Kadaba we call her Dr. Mimi. She's a counseling psychologist and healer, and together we explore the layers beneath the term African booty scratcher as Dr. Kadaba shares her personal insights on the term and its impact on her life. If you're enjoying the podcast. Please subscribe wherever you listen. Leave us a kind review. It'll definitely go a long way. We're building this production from the ground up. And we love the support to make this a greater exploration. And so the next time.

AJ: 40:07

Papers for my acres is a fufu and grids, original production in collaboration with, with reverends co-op. It is executively produced by myself. AIJ Moosejaw. Anyway, Sam ed Ramola and Michael Meadows. The show itself is written by me and Sam and includes some amazing contributions for this pilot season from some dope ass black talent. Artwork for the show is created by Joshua McKnight, with contributions from Devin Taylor, to Sean orbit, Joshua Williams and the elusive Amara. Thank you so very much for listening.