Record Scratch: How a Conversation With My Cousin Sparked a New Idea

I've been thinking a lot lately, counting my blessings and all, because I've set a goal that was not just unthinkable, but unattainable, just a few years ago, and I actually achieved it. It's not like crossing something off a to-do list, which, honestly, doesn't exist because I like to keep everything in my head. It's more like standing here thinking, I've achieved something on the backs of my ancestors who struggled and died and never got to enjoy the privileges. No, not privileges. The rights I enjoy today. I wonder if they'd be proud. I wonder if they'd think it was worth it.

And I think about how freely we can travel today, country to country, as long as we have the financial means. There are no real barriers anymore. Watchmen reminded me of World War II, when the Germans tried to recruit Black American soldiers by reminding them how they were treated back home. Was it an effective recruiting tool? I haven't done the research, so I don't know. Was it the truth? Yes.

My cousin and I were talking about traveling. He doesn't do much of it. He's working two jobs now and said he's trying to save so he can do some traveling this year. My mind went immediately to somewhere, I don't know, somewhere other than Texas. And yet, that's exactly where he said he wants to go.

I've been to Texas once or twice, and I suppose I had a good time. My one clear memory is sitting at Taco Cabana eating fajitas. Not the kind you get at Taco Bell. These were something else, juicy and warm and a little spicy. My more recent memories are all bad. Sure, there's the Austin Film Festival, which I've never attended, but there are also the negative stories and incidents I don't need to recount here. Let's just say, if I'm a Black man, I would not risk it all to vacation in Texas.

My response to him was something like, "Have you ever thought about traveling internationally?"

"Naw, they hate Americans."

Record scratch. Huh? A Black man in America told me other countries hate us. I started wondering how many other people believe that too. Is it more than cost and the fear of not speaking another language that holds people back?

I feel the exact opposite. I believe other countries are often more welcoming. Not colorblind, but not filled with mouth-frothing hate either. You can move around and not have to worry about whether you'll move too quickly for law enforcement and wind up dead.

This is where my love of history and my curiosity about the world collide. And of course, there's the creative side, always lying there, waiting to be awakened.

This diary project began as me simply writing about my journey toward becoming an expat. I didn't know how, or even if, it could or would evolve. I just knew I had a story I wanted to tell. Had to tell.

After talking with my cousin and sitting with all of that, I had another conversation that added a spark to the creative energy that had been bubbling beneath the surface with no direction.

I was asking a colleague questions about her estate planning, and she asked me, "Where do you consider home? Home is where the heart is, so if you spend less than 180 days in New York, it may not be your home."

What if I created something like a green book for Black travelers? What if I highlighted the places that were friendly and welcoming, and the ones that weren't? What if I learned about cultures and shared what I learned along the way?

I would spend less than 180 days in New York for sure. And I could reach out to my people and show them a different way. Make life a little easier. Open their eyes, and their world, to what is not only possible, but in some cultures, already the norm.

I'm still in the early thinking stages, but it's going to be more than that. I look forward to taking this journey with you.