There was once a young eagle named Chick Chick. Through a twist of fate, he found himself raised among chickens. Day after day, he scratched the dirt for worms, flapped his wings with uncertainty, and looked to the sky with wonder. The chickens around him laughed whenever he tried to soar. “You can’t fly,” they said. “You’re one of us.” And so, Chick Chick lived like a chicken—never knowing that he was born for the heavens.
This parable is no fairy tale. It is the true condition of the people misnamed as “Black,” “Negro,” or “African American.” They are the Chick Chicks of the modern world: mighty eagles conditioned to live like barnyard birds. Told by systems of miseducation that they have no history before slavery. Lied to about their roots, their law, and their land. Disconnected from their noble bloodlines as Moors, the original inhabitants of the American continent. What was done to Chick Chick has been done to us—programmed to forget.
But just as the eagle in the story felt something stir when he looked to the skies, our people feel a quiet fire in their souls. That yearning is our nature whispering, “You are more than you’ve been told.”
The so-called Black man and woman are not visitors to this land—we are the land. Before the ships, before the shackles, before the false names, we were here as Washitaw, Yamasee, Choctaw, Cherokee Moors—nations, not tribes. We were master navigators, empire builders, engineers, and priests. And yet, through colonization, indoctrination, and forced ignorance, we were taught to forget. We were given labels in place of legacy, superstition in place of spirituality, and confusion in place of culture.
But the lie has an expiration date.
It is time, now, for Chick Chick to look up again. Not just to admire the eagle overhead, but to remember that he is the eagle. It is time for the so-called Black man to study the true meaning of Moor, to reclaim his indigenous standing under the law, and to teach his children their divine origin. It is time for the so-called Black woman to resurrect her crown as the Mother of Civilization, and to walk in her spiritual and ancestral authority. No more scratching for crumbs when we own the sky.
This parable isn’t just allegory—it’s instruction. It’s a mirror. And it’s a call.
To those who still see themselves as chickens: it’s time to test your wings. To those who have remembered who they are: it’s time to help others rise. And to those in power who benefit from the confusion—your time is up.
The eagles are waking. And this time, we will not be fooled.
