I Am Because We Are: Readings in Africana Philosophy

Philosophy collections can be a snooze fest, but “I Am Because We Are: Readings in Africana Philosophy” isn’t your typical academic anthology. Edited by Fred Lee Hord and Jonathan Scott Lee, it’s a curated powerhouse of Black intellectual thought stretching across continents—from Africa’s ancient wisdom to Caribbean firebrands and North America’s civil rights giants. The book stakes a claim for a distinct philosophical tradition rooted in relational humanism, which basically means understanding ourselves through the lens of community, connection, and shared existence rather than the isolated individualism Western philosophy tends to celebrate.

This isn’t just a grab bag of essays. The anthology is a time-traveling tour of ideas that map how Black thinkers have wrestled with identity, oppression, and liberation. It kicks off with Africa’s deep roots—texts that remind you philosophy didn’t start with Plato and Aristotle. Ancient writings like the “Teachings of Ptahhotep” and the “Declarations of Innocence” ground the reader in a tradition where morality, social harmony, and collective responsibility matter. Then you get modern African voices like Léopold Sédar Senghor, who gave us Negritude, a poetic and political humanism celebrating Black culture and dignity, and Julius Nyerere, who championed Ujamaa, a vision of African socialism emphasizing family-like community bonds.

The Caribbean section punches hard with thinkers who refuse to soften the harsh realities of colonialism and racial identity. Marcus Garvey’s call for Black self-reliance, C.L.R. James’s sharp critiques of imperialism, and Aimé Césaire’s scathing “Discourse on Colonialism” all challenge the lingering effects of European domination. Frantz Fanon’s exploration of racism and culture digs into how colonialism warps not just societies but individual psyches, making this section feel urgent and raw.

North America brings in the heavy hitters of Black intellectual history—Frederick Douglass’s fiery oratory, Anna Julia Cooper’s insistence on the vital role of Black womanhood in social progress, and W.E.B. Du Bois’s nuanced takes on race and double consciousness. These writings highlight the struggle for recognition, equality, and the complex identity of being Black in a society that constantly tries to define you from the outside.

What makes this anthology stand out is how it resists the temptation to fit these thinkers into Western philosophical boxes. Instead, it insists on their unique voice, rooted in communal values and lived experience. The editors’ introductions and notes help navigate the dense material without turning it into dry textbook fodder.

That said, it’s not perfect. Some readers might find the selection leans toward well-known figures, leaving out lesser-known but equally important voices. And despite its mission, certain essays still echo Western frameworks, which can dilute the anthology’s claim to a wholly distinct philosophical tradition. But maybe that’s a reflection of how messy and intertwined intellectual histories are.

If you’re curious about how Black thinkers across time and space have grappled with what it means to be human, this book offers a rich, challenging, and sometimes frustrating dive. It’s not casual reading, but it’s rewarding if you want to rethink philosophy beyond the usual suspects and open up to perspectives that insist we’re all connected—whether we like it or not.