At the Intersection.


Today, I don’t plan to share an experience of racism with you. Instead, I’m going to attempt sharing something more.

My existence. Rather, the experience of racism as an existence.

You see, …I reside at the intersection of black and woman.

And, here, we have set up camp.

Here, we care for one another. Here, we heal one another… with oil and herbs, lemonade and such things.

Right here… we praise Gxd because we know that She placed the sun in the sky with the intention of creating us. And we know that She looks favorably upon us and is especially proud of this womanly brigade. And we are here for it, baby… yes. we. are.

Here, we have birthed a pack of lone warriors fighting a war comprised of many battles that you. don’t. even. see… here.

Here, we dip our hands in history and wear it as warpaint.

Here, our grandmothers whisper into mamma’s ear and she then braids those whispers into our hair.

Here, we pour libations from the drinking well

And our ancestors gather the children and instruct them on enemy encounters: Stand squarely, shake its hand firmly and look it dead in the eye. Stand squarely, shake its hand firmly and look it dead in the eye. Stand squarely... Square up.

Here, we teach our children that THEY HAVE ENEMIES. There are whole nations, systems and ideologies at WAR with your magic.

Here, we set up registries where we enlist our daughters… and our sons, until the moment that they forget the women that dwell within them… Here, their heads are counted and crowned for war.

Here, we teach them to p i m p the s y s t e m. Here, I teach them to infultrate. Here, I teach them to TEAR. IT. DOWN.

Here, we learn, we laugh, we sing. Here, we cry. Here, we scream. Here, we preach, we intellectualize, and —we twerk. Here, we are all of who we were born to become. Here, we are ourselves fully.

Here, we may go unseen, but we will not go unheard.

Here, my tribe can feel you. — Here, your violence does not go unchecked.

I said.. here, I will check you, boo.

Here, at the intersection, I don’t have an experience of how racism has impacted me… I have an entire existence of one. What I open my eyes to each morning, what rocks me to sleep at night. The way I eat, work, laugh and play, … the way I love… c a r e f u l l y… the way I raise my children, the way momma raised me, the way I look after my brothers… calling them in midnight hours prompted either by the news or by my weary spirit. The words I speak and the places I cannot go. Racism isn’t an anecdote, it is a life lived on the defense. It is children birthed on the offense.

It is Combat.

Welcome.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.