There are moments in life when the story we’ve been told about the world starts to fall apart. You’re sitting there, watching life unfold, but something doesn’t add up. The characters don’t fit their roles, the plot twists feel forced, and you start to wonder: Who wrote this version of history? And more importantly, how did we come to ever believe it? At some point, for the curious and thoughtful person, the curtain of what we’ve accepted as reality begins to fall, and you start asking questions that polite conversations and surface-level explanations just can’t satisfy. It’s like seeing through an illusion — once you see the strings, you can’t unsee them.
This kind of awakening doesn’t always come from discussions on important social issues, politics or history books — it often hits harder when you realize how simple facts and numbers unravel it all. Think about this: People of European descent make up only about 7–9% of the global population, an even smaller percentage when you reflect upon human history. Yet, we’ve been taught a version of events where this small group is portrayed as the primary driver of civilization, the creators of innovation, and the heroes of humanity itself. But math, cold, true, unwavering and absolute, doesn’t lie. The odds of one small group being solely responsible for shaping the entire world are astronomically low, and that statistical impossibility exposes a deeper truth: history has been carefully and heavily edited.
Human history is a vast, complex tapestry, but the version we’ve inherited is full of missing threads. Civilizations across Africa, Asia, and the Americas were advancing science, medicine, and art long before the concept of Europe even came into the picture. And while some of us have come to this very conclusion at some point or another, it remains that a vast majority are trapped in its snares. Let’s take ancient Kemet (modern-day Egypt) and the Kush and Central African empires — a hub of knowledge where scholars developed the most early forms of mathematics and medicine and built architectural wonders that still baffle engineers today. The Library of Alexandria alone drew thinkers from around the world, and Greek philosophers like Pythagoras and Plato studied in Africa, learning from Black scholars whose contributions were later erased or downplayed.
The idea of “Europe” as a distinct cultural powerhouse only emerged after these knowledge exchanges. The Greeks, after studying abroad, returned and began crafting a narrative that placed themselves at the center of human progress–a legacy which still can be seen in the many facets of Western society today from maps to how we perceive the world around us as something separate or other. This wasn’t an innocent oversight; it was a calculated move to build a framework that justified future colonialism and imperialism. By claiming ownership of knowledge and innovation, they laid the groundwork for centuries of thought domination — not through superior intellect or innate ability, but through careful manipulation.
But understanding this distortion isn’t just about setting the record straight. It’s about realizing what this means for you as a person, and as a community of people. If people of European descent are a global minority, and their dominance is based on illusion and manipulation, where does the real power lie? The truth is, it lies with you.
The survival and persistence of Black culture, Indigenous traditions, women’s history and contributions, and marginalized communities tell a different story — one of resilience, creativity, and the refusal to disappear. Well, technically they can’t just disappear, that would be improbable and impossible mathematically. We just collectively chose to believe and go along with it, for whatever reasons. Nonetheless, these communities didn’t just survive; they thrived, continuing to conquer and rise above, build, and shape reality–fulfilling the mathematical equation that they are. Such persistence is a testament to an unbreakable spirit and a living legacy that stretches back eons, from the very first humans to the mother of mankind. When you think about it, it was a fool’s errand – an attempt to defy the laws of physics.
As a child, I learned that words hold immense power, like spells, carrying vibrations that can influence and shape reality if their purpose and meaning are not fully understood. Take the word “You.” It wasn’t always used the way we use it now. Historically, “You” was the plural form of “Thou” — a small linguistic shift that hints at something much bigger. In African philosophical traditions, like Ubuntu, there’s a concept that says, “I am because we are.” It’s the idea that human existence is inherently collective, that we are all connected, and that our individual selves are expressions of something greater. What if that’s the truth that systems of oppression have tried to bury? What if the real danger wasn’t just the loss of past knowledge, but the risk that people would realize their collective power? One which could shape an everlasting peace and balance instead of the world we see before us.
This is the powerful message woven throughout the essay Why Are You Here by Eugene. It’s a call to question the narratives we’ve been given and to recognize the true source of power: our collective selves… our own sovereignty. Jenifer Carter, taking inspiration from Eugene’s work, delves deeper into this concept through a series of interviews.
Carter writes in one interview: How did you get here? I mean, to this point in your life, with this awareness of your history?
The respondent #1 replies: The Universe, The Divine, The One. I ended up in Cleveland, Ohio by way of Alabama. My maternal grandparents were the descendants of slaves and active in the Civil Rights Movement… We are descendants of the African Diaspora who were stolen from our homeland to be slaves in America.
Carter: What were you taught about Black history growing up?
Respondent #1: I was taught that Black people have a history that predates slavery… Black people are responsible for the creation of the pyramids and contributed significantly through science. Our art style was co-opted by European artists. We have made significant contributions to history and culture that go unacknowledged or white-washed.
This “white-washing” of history, as she calls it, is a central theme in Eugene’s argument. He meticulously dismantles the idea of “Europe” as an independent source of knowledge and innovation, highlighting the contributions of older civilizations that were here first and then later erased or appropriated.
Carter to respondent #2: What are your thoughts on Black history after reading the essay?
Respondent #2: I know that Black history gives Black people a narrative and a clearer perspective on who they are… After reading the piece, I was amazed at the fact that Europeans make up such a small percentage of the world yet seem to be credited with the majority of every good thing. This reminds me of the countless ideas, people and gifts that were stolen not only from Blacks but from women and people all over the world.
Respondent #2’s words echo the sentiment of Eugene’s essay: that the narrative of European dominance is a carefully constructed illusion designed to maintain power structures. But what happens when we see through the illusion?
Carter: How did the essay make you feel?
Respondent #1: I have always been aware of how a certain demographic takes ownership over other people’s achievements. We ARE C R E A T O R S… Mathematically speaking, we are beating the odds. And as long as we remain in alignment with the divine, we will go on to accomplish higher things.
This sense of empowerment, of inherent strength and resilience, is the core of what Eugene and Carter are trying to convey. The survival of Black culture, Indigenous traditions, and the contributions of women are not mere footnotes; they are the central narrative, a testament to the enduring power of the human spirit.
Eugene’s exploration of the word “You” adds another layer to this understanding. Rooted in the African philosophy of Ubuntu, it speaks to a collective consciousness, a shared existence that transcends individual limitations. The very institutions that propagated the myth (and delusion) of a supremacy simultaneously sought to suppress this collective power, fearing the realization of the united force of humanity.
The truth, as Eugene and Carter’s work reveals, is not just a historical correction; it’s a revolutionary act. To recognize the constructed nature of our reality is to reclaim the power to reshape it. The improbability of our existence, in a world that has actively tried to erase us…. Erase thee, is not a limitation but a testament to our inherent potential. The question, “Why are you here?” is not an existential query but a call to action. We are not merely living in the world; we are shaping it, with every act of creation, every moment of resistance, every decision to build a better future. The illusion of dominance crumbles, revealing the true architects of the world: Us.
By Jenifer Carter and Jason Eugene
Read essay Why Are You Here (PDF)