if this day
you find me
absent-mindedly humming a freedom song or spiritual
lotion-ing my ash in broad daylight
arriving late to see Selma again
wanting to shout every time i see a woman like my motha get struck down
re-tweeting MLK images, quotes and march events non-stop
wondering out-loud if i am brave enough
randomly calling on people to discuss what’s next
in the movement
Excavating my roots: this is the core of why i began creating work through D UNDERBELLY. i sought to understand culturally who i was. my blackness, my queerness. my ability. i recognize that these “roots” are rich and fertile. they are also massive and weighted. with tenderness, i will cultivate them. allow each one of them to grow deeper into the earth. through time, effort and sustenance – like the tree roots vividly captured by photographer Paul Cannon – they will intertwine, reach out, and form a strong foundation. in union with others, they will ascend and thrive.
In an instant. Tension. Smooth soft hands gripped cloth. Bag hugged closer to body. From her peripheral view, all she could see was Blackness. Not cane, nor gait. Nor stylish flair. Just skin. And. in an instant. I am reminded that this is NOT Black history month.