Yesterday morning, alot of my fear fell away.
As I often do, I thought of my Ancestors, who were stolen from their lands, the ones who gave themselves to the Ocean rather than endure the cruelties of white hands. I thought of my Ancestors, the ones who survived to the shores of new, unknown worlds and became property, subjected to unspeakable horrors, abuses, violations, traumas. And I thought of my Ancestors who survived, the ones who were determined to pass something of themselves on.
I am my Ancestors' wildest dream.
Sometimes I smile to myself, thinking they couldn't have imagined such a limp-wristedly fabulous descendant. And still, I am of them and carry their strength in my memory, in my blood.
And I am a survivor too--of horrors, abuses, violations, traumas And I too am determined to pass something of myself on.
My children are my wildest dream.
Daily, I combat the voices of a society that abhors my Black skin and all it represents, let alone the otherr targets I carry. A society that has been doing everything in it's power for the last 600 years to ensure that I, and folks like me, do not survive. A society that forces us to spend so much time fighting to eek out a meager existance, so we do not remember and reclaim our Power. Daily, also, I combat society's voices within myself, the sad, quieting echoes of what I've internalised in my short lifetime.
And my dreams are not deferred.
A Trump presidency is a very familiar boogeyman--I've known him my entire life. He rests under my bed. He sneers from my closet, he refuses to sit next to me on buses and trains, he condescends to me in my workplace, he follows me in stores, he harasses me when I walk down the street....
And my dreams will not be deferred.
They are mine. They are revolutionary. I have fought, I am fighting, and I will continue to fight for them. And I will keep dreaming....
#MyDreamsWillNotBeDeferred
