In Our Gentle Reader Bag Again…

Dear Mamas & Magic Makers 

 

In case you're new here, we'll be in our Dear Gentle Reader bag in some of our newsletters.  We don’t just want The Muthaship to be an update on what we’re doing. It's called The Muthaship, so we wanna talk about the ebbs and flows of this ride. We want it to reflect the conversations we’ve been having and hearing and share a collection plate cause, where we'll spotlight causes and initiatives that resonate with our community. So, let’s ride yall!

As the conversation around Black women's response and engagement in this moment continues, our episode with Akilah Richards about grief consistently replays in my mind.  When I think about Black women choosing to rest, Black women sitting in the corner minding their Black business, drinking water, and moving differently, I think maybe Black women are grieving.  I know I am.  I am grieving solidarity that initially showed up as rage, and after our conversation with Akilah, I  realized it was grief.  So I did what Akilah said we should do.

I got curious, investigated my feelings and my thoughts, and made space for grief.  Making space for grief meant I’ve had to release some spaces, get even more clear about my work, and accept there are people I cannot be in community with right now because what I know for sure is if I don’t grieve, the rage I feel will become a volcano. Volcanoes don't consider intention or have compassionate communication.  Their only goal is to erupt with regard or care for those harmed by what they spew.   I don’t want people leading communities and active in movements who are exhausted, aren’t healing, haven’t grieved, or are there because they feel like they “should be doing” but aren’t ready or equipped to do.  Imagine the harm that causes, and more people won’t get us to “the Promised Land” any faster.  It may, in fact, slow us down and leave us more disconnected than before. 

Anyone who’s listened to this podcast knows I admire Elaine Brown.  Her memoir A Taste of Power is one of my top 5 books.  IT IS A PAGE TURNER! I often think about her in times like this: why she left the Black Panther party, why the party fell apart, and why party members remain disconnected. I wonder if healing and grieving would have been a part of their 10-point plan in the midst of all that loss and bloodshed if they could have mended; if they could have withstood the pressure of COINTELPRO longer…I am not nostalgic about liberation movements.  I am willing to learn from their glory and their demise.  If we only relish in the glory of movements, we are mimicking white supremacy.  We avoid grief and healing, and we will make the same mistakes.

If y'all know us, then y'all know our group chat has been dominated by Kendrick and Beyonce this month.  Between “They Not Like Us” TikToks and our Super Bowl halftime reactions, we were strategizing about purchasing our Cowboy Carter tix (YES! We’re going to the Sunday show in Houston!)  

As a creative, I’ve learned a lot from Kendrick and Beyonce, but one of the most valuable lessons is: IT ALL GOES IN THE WORK.  They are not on social media debating and spouting their opinions.  Their answers, opinions, and responses are all in their work and have produced creatively brilliant culture-shifting projects.  The first verse of “Formation" responds to gossip, but the song means more than that to us.  “Get in formation” became a call to action.  The American Heart Association added “They Not Like Us” to their CPR Don’t Drop the Beat Playlist, a list of songs with the right tempo for Hands-Only CPR (and the comments on their IG post did not disappoint). It was a rap beef record that ain’t even on an album yall!  A battle record that made Grammy history, and we know every Black pastor worth their salt got a sermon titled “They Not Like Us.”  At this point, it’s beyond Kendrick (and Drake, for that matter). It’s embedded in the culture as a statement of Blackness. For me, though, Cowboy Carter is the best example of putting it in the work because it brings our history forward and evokes a deeper conversation around genre, racism, and artistic boundaries.  

 

So you will rarely see me in anybody's comments these days.   I’m putting it all into my work: my brilliance, my creativity, my cultural commentary, my vulnerability, my grief, my joy, my rejection, and, as Kendrick taught me, even my petty.  I’m putting my head down and PUTTING IT ALL IN THE WORK. When I add to the chorus, it will be intentional, poignant, well thought out, and in alignment with and IN the work I am here to do, not in a comment section on a platform that can be deleted on a whim. 

During March (my birthday month), I’ll be raising money for my nonprofit, Creators Well.  Creators Well is a series of FREE interactive writing retreats, writing workshops and performance classes, for Black girls/ femmes/ non-binary/gender-expansive youth ages 12-21.  We affirm the power of their voices, pen, art, and individuality.  It is a Blackcentric space where all Black lives are sacred

We execute these values by providing Black girls/femmes/non-binary/gender-expansive youth with creative tools and skills to author their own stories.  These tools allow them to witness each other’s stories, document their humanity, and imagine the future.  Learn more about Creators Well, my journey building it & investing in Black Girls. 

💗✊🏾✨

P.S.  🎧 or watch our latest episode, Entrepreneurship & Black Motherhood, wherever you get your podcasts (Apple, Spotify) including YouTube and SHARE!