ALAFIA: Leaving the Graham Plantation

The year was 1999, and I was about to send in my script for "Amor d'Exranjeros," later to be called, "Cubamor," to the Copyright office.  It was a moment where i knew if i were to change my name, my first feature film would be the right time to do it.  I went and met with my village elder, my Babalawo, Ifalashe, with three Yoruba names that i liked; alafia, alabee, and alashe.  Alafia was my favorite, meaning "Peace," a shout out to one of my favorite poets, Octavio Paz.  Alabee was my second choice, meaning "born of dreams."  And alashe was my third choice, "one who walks with ashe."  Ifalashe did a divination between them asking about alafia first, and it was most positive.  I sent in the Amor d'Extranjeros script as joshua bee alafia, AKA Joshua Bee Graham.  From that point on, folks knew me as joshua bee alafia, but i'd always have to clarify that i also had a "government" name when folks were writing me checks or booking a flight for me.  It always struck me as a small defeat.  I spent a lot of time wondering about what it must have been like on the Graham plantation; would my ancestors want me to carry on the name of their captor?  

My grandfather, Johnny Bee Graham is an enigma to me.  My grandmother tells me stories of Johnny Bee's ingenuity, how he designed and built a model car by hand that ran, how he owned a pool hall, sold Cadillacs and shark skinned suits, tailoring without a tape measure with his precise eyes.  Johnny Bee was a professional gambler and would leave my grandmother for weeks at a time to play high stakes card games with the Black doctors, morticians, and moneyed gamblers throughout the South.  He had several patents stolen from him in his engineering ventures with motors, and swore to always be his own boss.  I met him twice.  The first time as a baby, then as a 7 year old, when i visited my father when he stayed with him in Waycross, Georgia.  Johnny Bee asked me to come sit on his lap, gave me a $50 bill, and told me to run along and play.  He never shared a word with me.  Unfortunately, he died the summer i was going to go visit him when i was 19.  Somehow, as independent a thinker he was, i feel like he would have lost his plantation name if it was something folks were doing back in his day.

I googled my grandfather and found nothing.  I googled my father and links to "Black Fire," the anthology of Black Arts Movement poets compiled by Leroy Jones (Imamu Amiri Baraka) and Larry Neal.

This is what comes up at the afterward in "Black Fire" to describe my father:

RUDY BEE GRAHAM is a Harvard drop-out. besides writing poetry, he has written several plays, two of which were performed by the New Lafayette Theater. He is published in Negro Digest and Black Dialogue.

Later, Rudy would also be featured in "The Poetry of the Negro," edited by Arna Bontemps and Langston Hughes. 

I asked Rudy Bee if he'd change his name to "alafia" and he declined, being happy with the name "Graham," as it's one of Brahma's names, a divine name...  He said he'd been "Graham," too long.

On October 8th of 2010, The Civil Court of New York in the County of Kings reviewed my petition and ordered my name to become joshua bee alafia.  It was a fairly painless process, a few runs to DMV, publishing the name change in the Canarsie Courier, and the judge Carolyn Wade signed off on my papers, forever liberating me from the Graham Plantation.  The clerk saw me as i was making copies of the papers and sang, "A Fanga Alafia Ashe, Ashe..."  i smiled.  "That song has been in my head ever since I saw your name this morning." She said.  "I'm glad i could bring music to you today, angel," i replied.  The song, was one of the first african songs i learned while studying drumming my first quarter at UC Santa Cruz.  The song goes like this:

Fanga Alafia, Ashé, Ashé.
Fanga Alafia, Ashé, Ashé.

Come and share our drumming space.
Ashé, Ashé.
All are welcome in this place.
Ashé, Ashé.
We are here to welcome you.
Ashé, Ashé.
Young and old, and babies, too.
Ashé, Ashé.

Fanga Alafia, Ashé, Ashé.
Fanga Alafia, Ashé, Ashé.

Open hearts to every care.
Ashé, Ashé.
Open minds to learn and share.
Ashé, Ashé.
Open doors in drumming space.
Ashé, Ashé.
All are welcome in this place!
Ashé, Ashé.

Fanga Alafia
Ashé, Ashé.

It's a song of welcoming.  "Fanga" means "Welcome"; "Alafia" means "Peace"; "Ashé" means "So be
it, or Amen".  I felt welcomed by the ancestors as I walked out of that courtroom with my name legalized, and the legacy of slavery liberated from my namesake for the prodigy.  I've left the Graham plantation, and will continue to decolonize my mind... one day at a time.  This i know is true... one day soon, we will all be free.