Right before I woke up, I had a dream. I was in open water, but had gone far out by myself. I could see other swimmers and the shore. The water was smooth, no waves. It was a beautiful day. Suddenly, a very tall man appeared like a giant standing on the water. He was fully clothed with black hair and a thin mustache. He looked at me, sank into the water, and began to drag me down. I screamed for help over and over. No one could hear me. The distance between me and the others was too great. The man pulled me underwater. I struggled and tried to kick him, but he was too strong. My last thought before I woke up was, “I’m going to die.”
In my half-dream, half-awake state, I tried to work out a different ending. I felt that the dream was an exercise. Something to teach me. Re-entering the dream, I imagined all of my ancestors surrounding me. There were too many to count. You couldn’t even see the shore. All you could see was the water between me and the man and my limitless ancestors surrounding us. Then the man disappeared. He was an illusion.
All of this could be an effect of watching the movie Amistad before I went to sleep. As well, as I lay in bed, I asked the question, “How will I resolve my current challenge?” I felt confident that an answer would await me in the morning. I fell asleep.
Amistad is a true story about Africans who were captured in 1839, sold to Portuguese slave traders in violation of international law, and sold again in Cuba to Spaniards. Under the leadership of Sengbe Pieh, later called Cinqué, the Africans led a revolt. Many shipmen were killed except those necessary to return the ship and its surviving captives to Africa.
Unfortunately, the crew steered the ship towards the Americas where they were intercepted by the U.S. Navy. The Africans were imprisoned as runaway slaves. Because of international issues of ownership and jurisdiction, the disposition of the captives was ultimately decided by the U.S. Supreme Court who, after three years, ruled in favor of the Africans who were freed and returned to their homeland.
In the movie, while awaiting the Court’s decision, John Quincy Adams tried to emotionally prepare for an adverse judgment. Cinqué, responding emphatically, referred to his ancestors:
We won’t be going in there alone. I will call into the past, far back to the beginning of time, and beg them to come and help me. At the judgment, I will reach back and draw them into me and they must come. For, at this moment, I am the whole reason they have existed at all.
Something stirred within me as I felt the profundity of this statement. They must come, for I am the reason for their existence.