Either/Or
Once you label me you negate me. — Soren Kierkegaard, from “Either/Or”
Is it either or — surely the depths of my identity are more to explore.
Black Womanhood: the in-between of space and time — a continuum best suited for another parallel. Intergenerational trauma against our bodies that were not our own — hands-free to roam a beaten and shackled territory ruled by a Venus that we did not consent to. By taking back the night and therefore taking back our light — still, we are labeled either a prude or whore. Surely, the juxtapositions of our bodies are more to adore.
Black Excellence: the in-between of hustle and academia — a dis-sertation subjected to the limitations of Civil Rights or Jim Crow. Intersectional scholarship ignorance to the idea that our minds were never wasted — knowledgeable of works from Thoreau, Rousseau, and Foucault. By changing the narrative — we take up space in an otherwise web of deceit where the content of our characters and achievements are relegated to a hashtag algorithm — still, we are expected to either shut up and dribble the commodification as an athlete or nothing more. Certainly, the range of our intellect exists beyond the bounds of just sports lore.
Black Joy: the in-between of resistance and healing — a-mend to diasporic connective tissue that remedies a movement. Interlingual conversations between our ancestral spirits passed by word and song — battle cries express a reckoning is here. By prioritizing the act of rest, we see when woke how a critical pace could never truly be banned — still, we are canceled either once communities we are not a part of, restore, or priorities of racial justice are no longer an underscore. Indisputably, the pervasive smiles of our rebellion are infinite and I suppose that is why they abhor.
Is it either or — certainly the celebration of Blackness is radical and there’s so much more in store.
