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Spiders, Folklore, and Connecting to a Cultural Past

I dont kill spiders.

Its not because Im afraid of them, but because I feel a cultural connection to them.

A cultural connection to a spider? Yeah I know, it sounds weird. And it wasnt always this way. But it was bound to happen as I look back on the signs.

Spiders seem to have a place in African American folklore. Anansi, the trickster, traveled with the slaves from Africa (sometimes calling himself Anancy) weaving his stories here in the New World.

The spider as folklore I could take. But the problem was the superstition the spider came to symbolize for me.

My mother grew up in the rural south and seemed to have a bag full of little beliefs that would pop up from time to time. If one of my brothers or sister would happen to step on the back of my mothers heel she would take our hands and wipe it on the small of her back. We were never allowed to split a pole and all hell would break loose if a broom touched her.

And my mother, the eternal neat freak who attacked dirt the same way Venus Williams attacks an opponent once saw a white spider building a web in the corner of her room.

That means someone who havent met or seen for a long time will be coming to visit, she said. And she allowed the spider to stay in his little nook.

For the longest time I shunned everything that was stereotypical about black culture: black slang, fried chicken, nappy hair, watermelon, and the superstitions my mother carefully taught us to make sure we had a stress free life. These things embarrassed me, separating me from being a part of the mainstream. How could I be American if I eschewed splitting polls, ate fried chicken, and spoke in double negatives? Spiders died in effigy under my feet.

And it was all in vain. How could I walk away from something that is innately me? No matter how many times I stepped on spiders there were still more out there and no matter how many things I changed about me, I was still black.

I wonder if some Asians go through this, too. A friend of mine who is Asian American once noted that a lot of black women in the Asian/Black clubs knew more about Asian culture than he did. He commented that he didnt worry about learning about Japan, anime, or speaking the language. He didn't feel a connection to it, he is 5th generation American, he was born in America so why should he think of a culture that is as far removed from his as the Eskimos as he is concerned.

And I was surprised. I even told him so. Here in America is a group of people who wants to readily give up everything that is them to acclimate into American culture and you have another group that is still peeved about having their culture taken away.

What is it about America that reels people in with the promise of being a melting pot but really takes away their individuality and gives them a prefabricated, watered down culture? And why are we willing to trade away our drums, our hair, our clothes, our talk for something that is high priced and meaningless?

As I write this I see a spider in a corner constructing a web. I cant tell if he is a white spider warning me to clean the house spotless because I have visitors coming or if its Anansi who is weaving my story inside his web or plotting mischief. It doesnt matter. I've claimed him now.

Naysa