Black Hands, Blue Passport

As Americans Abroad, Black Expats Must Grapple with Our Own Passport Privilege 

When American passports make Black people the gentrifiers:  What is ”Conversations No one Wants to Have for $800?” image credit: Pexels.com/ Vinta Supply Co. | NYC /Sirita Render 

With increasing numbers of Black folks leaving the U.S., it’s time to face what it means to jump out of the fire of racism and into the pool of privilege. We move abroad knowing every aspect of our lives can be conducted in our language. That’s privilege. Cafes cater to our tastes. Real estate brokers practically salivate when they see us, Americans, coming. In Lisbon, where I live, foreigners are exempt from paying income tax. To boot, we buy property and pay "82% more per property than local buyers." (Privilege, privilege, privilege)  

How do Black American immigrants (yes, immigrants) navigate the moving goal post of our own privilege? With just a one-way ticket to Lisbon, we go from being unjust recipients of our nation’s ire to monied foreigners who’ve bought into the luxury of peace. This purchase can seem like we’ve fulfilled our ancestors’ wildest dreams. Have we? Or have we simply gone from being the oppressed to the oppressors? The gentrified to the gentrifiers. Do our comfortable lives come at the expense of our “extended family” from across the globe? As we, holders of the United States passport, find ourselves in community in Lisbon with Black folk from former Portuguese colonies and other African nations, the disparities between our experience and theirs can be glaring. 

Accepting You Have an Advantage 

Asha Wilkerson, 42, thinks about her impact on the Mozambiquan, Angolan and Cape Verdean people she engages with every day. She moved to Lisbon a year and a half ago, leaving behind a successful career as an attorney in California and opening up Asha’s Place, a wellness studio catering to the African diaspora. “We’re so not used to having privilege that it makes us so uncomfortable to be disconnected from the struggle story,” Asha says. Because we’ve endured so much racialized violence and disenfranchisement in the United States, Asha believes coming to a part of the world where our American status affords us protection from more avert economic injustice may not seem like we’re benefitting from the privileges our white counterparts take for granted back in our home country. But we are.  

Asha is clear on this. She quit her job, got on a plane and within 30 calendar days made a payment to the previous owner of her current business. Asha’s Place was up and running even before Asha herself had finalized all her immigration paperwork. 

That takes privilege. An incredible amount the Afro-Portuguese instructors she hires could not even fathom. Asha is aware, though she intends to be a considerate one, she is still an American gentrifier. This thought remains on the forefront of her mind when she’s considering what classes she’ll offer, which outlets she’ll use for promotion, and, more importantly, what pricing structure she’ll incorporate to ensure her business thrives while still serving the community for whom she opened it. 

Thirty-six-year old Izzy Vixsama also doesn’t shy away from how much her passport privilege grants her access to quality housing, job opportunities and world travel. She identifies as Haitian-American, having experienced going from an undocumented immigrant in the U.S. to a citizen of the country before the age of 17. Recently married to a Cape Verdean man, Izzy is well aware her husband’s family has been systemically locked out of chances to utilize the resources that have made her life in Lisbon very comfortable.  

“I didn’t come here under the typical visa a lot of my peers came under,” she says. “I actually came under the highly qualified work visa.” A very small percentage of immigrants have been granted this status. Izzy uses this example to point out she works for a global company with offices in the U.S., UK and Portugal. She’s paid in euros and when she transferred to Lisbon, her company offered her a pretty good match to the salary she’d been making in the States. Among the Afro-Portuguese community who’ve become her family and friends, Izzy’s access to ease and abundance is rare. She doesn’t pretend the privilege she enjoys is earned, even though she spent her childhood as a Black immigrant in a country that’s been historically disinterested in newcomers from the global South, whether they’re documented or not.  

Leveraging Your Privilege for Others 

“Privilege can grow to be good or it can grow to be bad. It really depends on your intentions and your actions,” Izzy says. Izzy doesn’t feel guilty about how much she benefits from being an American immigrant because she’s lived her life with the core belief it’s her duty to help further the quality of life for others in the African diaspora. She lives this by encouraging her younger in-laws to learn English, take business courses and pursue higher paying jobs in Portugal. If they need more concrete resources, she offers that as well. She landed in Portugal two years ago and has married into the Afro-Portuguese community. However, she does not take for granted this is not her country. She’s a guest here and must move as such.  

Asha also takes great care to make her wellness studio a third space for the Afro-Portuguese as well as the many Black Americans who have found comfort in the social activities she hosts as supplement to the studio’s yoga and breath work classes. “I definitely partner with the community every time I have a party,” Asha says. She hires locals to promote and sell to the public. She’s also invited Afro-Portuguese craft makers to sell their products in her studio, especially when there’s a sold-out event happening. “Anywhere I go, I always want to make sure that I leave more than I take,” she asserts.  

Like Izzy, Asha also speaks about something greater than just helping locals who need opportunities by providing them with concrete resources. She talks about being a good guest in someone else’s home. She’s working on developing classes that are delivered only in Portuguese and promoting those classes in the language to send a clear message she wants all her clientele to show up as their whole selves. Asha’s Place is located on the same street as several other businesses owned by immigrants. When she can, she funnels her guests to their establishments. Leaving more than you take sometimes translates into simply being a good neighbor.