I give thanks for yesterday, today and tomorrow. Give thanks for having witnessed and shared in the production of the peace (camp) is possible matinee, workshops and parade. I give thanks for new friends, playing and sharing with the pikney, bredrin and sistren of seeds of hope. Bless them and their families.
I give thanks for the blessings of yesterday, carrying into today, and I pray for them to manifest tomorrow. give thanks for all the love and prayers shared. Bless those who share their energy, labour, pray(er) en love with me, and their families.
I pay homage to the spirit of our ancestors. I pay homage to the orishas. I pay homage to the spirit of cool wota. I pay homage to the good fortune of peace, the good fortune of a stable home, the good fortune of wisdom, the good fortune of calmness.
Thank you for the Blessings of wota. Ifa, I pray that you bless all our living relatives. Those that crawl, swim and fly.
Bless our granmama earth. Ase. Ase…..
hadithi? Hadithi?
Nipe mji?
Nilienda Addis….Dar-es-salaam, kampala, kiambu, Kigali,kimilili, malindi, Mogadishu, Nairobi na Webuye.
n(IT)arudi nyumbani karibuni, (lakini) sasa hivi, this space here is the best home I could have, in the heart of tdot, na katika moyo wa Afrika, rebuilding revolushunary villages, waging peace, speaking truth to power and(re)educating not only ourselves, but others, in the practise of freedom.
The peace camp and peace is possible workshops may be officially done, but the work of cultivating our experiences and preparing for the future is on to the next level. We have faith that we will continue to build deeper relationships with our neighbours and friends, and share our resources and spaces more with those who need them.
If this open letter to tdot is to stay true to its mission, it has to start with (re)acknowledging where we’re at, on turtle island & where we coming from, mama afrika. It’s also only natural that in speaking truth to power, we share that we are in our final stage/week of developing & organising for
The Spaces Between [produced by the Peace camp],
Peace is Possible Parade &
summer workshops at Crescent Town Public School with Full Circle, Regent Park Camp, Balmy Beach, Learning for Life, Seeds of Hope…..
The ‘official’ werd on the ground is
The Children’s Peace Theatre of Toronto will be holding its 10th annual Summer Peace Camp from July 5-24, 2010. Under the direction of Liz Pounsett and musical direction by award-winning jazz artist Brownman with the artistic direction of Karen Emerson.
A group of 60 children and youth will work alongside professional artists to create a theatrical collaboration called ‘The Space Between’.
This is bound to be the most provocative of Peace Camp productions as the children explore faith and reason and how these concepts affect our lives personally and globally.It confronts head on the issues associate with the interplay of faith and reason with the level of honesty, humor and energy only children and youth can impart. The Space Between is sure to be visually stunning, thought provoking and full of surprises].
We’re inviting Tdot, all our friends and visitors, to come with their pikney and friends, join us on Friday July 23rd and Saturday July July 24th in the PIP Parade and the gala performance of the Space Between.
So ofcourse we should first tell you the story about the source of this peace theatre.
Hapo (si) zamani (sana) ya kale
In 2000, the Hannon-Shields Centre for Leadership and Peace reclaimed parts of the Massey Goulding Estate and under the ‘official’ leadership of Robert Morgan, launched the Children’s Peace Theatre (PT)
As Robert has said: “We place children and youth centre stage, not because they are cute or candid, but because they display humanity’s capacity to evolve, even in the harsh conditions of the current times. Young people are demonstrating an instinctive desire to move away from the dominant culture of self-interestedness and aggression, and are moving instead towards building relationships and community due to an innate desire to seek stability, safety, and peace.
It is also evident that young people have the imagination and the energy that will be necessary to establish a new culture of peace. Watching young people from very different backgrounds cross paths, encounter conflict, and find creative ways of making the conflict evolve in positive directions, gives me the audacity to believe that peace is possible.”
[10 years later, the ‘un-official’ werd on the ground on the opening ceremony is: join us in a prayer circle on Friday July 23rd @ at 7:00am , in the heart of the peace forest.
The ‘official’ plan of the day is the Peace is Possible parade @ 11:00am, and the 2nd matinee of the spaces between which will begin @ 1.00pm, in the outdoor amphitheatre of the Peace Theatre @ 305 Dawes Road.]
[this subjective perspective on the process of manifesting justice, truth, reconciliation en peacemaking; is after many moons of ‘unofficially’ re/claiming the grounds of the peace forest, since I came back from ‘home’ [aka. in another place, not here…], en in the years before, with osain as my colleague, en his home as my office. Close to eshu, obatala, ogun, oshun, oya en all the orishas.
I am deeply grateful for now ‘officially’ being part of that divine, growing team that is blessed, honoured and privileged to work here, [job soon dun, but it’s a contract with possible extensions of renewal nonetheless, and all the fertile spaces between metarmophoses, healing rituals & building solidarity with people of all faiths, all nations, with one prayer.
I give thanks for the artists, caregivers, comrades, elders en youth, peer educators, healers and peace makers, friends of PT, who contribute their energy, talent & time to rebuilding our communities, with our children, using arts for revolushunary social & spiritual change, sharing our healing stories with the 3c’s of PT]
I pray for health and prosperity, not only for myself but for others. I pray for humbleness, for myself and others. Please forgive my sins, those that I know about, and those that I don’t know about, those I am yet to commit, and those of others. Inspire those without hope, and strengthen those without faith. I give thanks for the cool wotas, the sun, moon, and stars, for the birds, and our trees. Bless all our living relatives.Onikpite]
I give thanks for our continued re/learning of faith in the true (true) ways of the ‘natives’ of port credit Mississauga, for our deepening connecuns with egun,
Bless taylor creek park en all our neighbours en visitors. Bless the ancestors betwixt en between, all around crescent town, goodwood, thorncliffe, dentonia park, jane&finch, parkdale, regent park, in all our enclaves, trees, en living relatives, in these diverse hoods.
PIP song
I give thanks for the burning, metamorphoses en (for) the spaces between spreading big love en positivity in our communities. I give thanks that the fiya this time feels like ‘the revolushun’ is with our breaking bread, making arts en crafts, playing, praying, reasoning and replenishing not only ourselves, but with our families and friends, en ‘others’.
Bless the motherless and fatherless, those sick in hospital. Bless the homeless, and those who ignore them. Ifa, I pray that you continue to guide us in coming to our right/full destinites. I pray that the circle may be unbroken. Bless our wotas en granmama earth. Ase. Ase….
[blogger’s notes: It’s, only officially, been less than a moon that I’ve been working on programs at the peace theatre, there’s still many pieces of the past that I’m not familiar with, but I give thanks that this place, in another space, not home, is exactly where I need to be,….naushukuru that the blessings of yesterday, manifested today en I pray for them to carry forward to tomorrow…..
85 days 16[+72]hours 25 minutes – the caps finally contained the oil spill, and we are bound to pray for our continued healing en self recovery, to learn from our mis-steps, and continue changing the destructive path we’ve been on.
Taylor-Massey Creek is 16 kilometres long. Its headwaters are near Sheppard and Victoria Park Avenues. It flowed diagonally through Wishing Well Park and under Highway 401 at Pharmacy Avenue. The original headwaters were diverted to Highland Creek when the highway was widened to 12 lanes, so the creek now starts at a stormwater outfall just south of the highway.
The creek starts in Terraview Willowfield Park, a restoration project, named after a nearby public school. It flows through two medium sized ponds with naturalized channels. From there it flows southeast through a series of concrete lined channels and drains. This section runs along an abandoned hydro right-of-way before entering a residential and industrial section that is closed to public access.
South of Eglinton Avenue East it enters a shallow ravine and flows south passing through Pine Hills Cemetery. It exits the cemetery travelling west and enters a small park on St. Clair Avenue East. At Warden Avenue it turns southwest, moving through a park called Warden Woods. West of Pharmacy Avenue it enters a city run golf course. At Victoria Park Avenue it enters Taylor Creek Park and continues uninterrupted to where it empties into the Don River East Branch, just north of the forks of the Don.
On Friday July 23rd, children and their companions will proceed on a path of peace, before that, we’ll meet to pray for grandmother earth and all our relatives @ taylor creek park, and after we will break/fast together…..
The ”peace-is-possible” parade plan is to converge @ the parking lot of Shopper’s World, 3003 Danforth at 10:00am,
The parade starts @ 11:00am, and we’ll parade west along the danforth to dawes road, and north to (a picnic lunch in) taylor creek park
@ 1:00pm – the matinee of ‘The Space Between’ by The Peace Camp @ the peace theatre
[blogger’s notes: one version of the peace is possible parade is something like]
Drum circle with the funketeers
6:30AM – Sunrise ceremony – Yoruba house project
A/(c)/r/ti/vists & volunteers hub
8:00 – (community) breakfast @ the peace theatre
9:30 – Yoga class – the people project
10:00 – Dance class – house of munro
11:00 – parade led by the samba kidz & the piper: Merril Matthews
11:30 – water stop @ Dentonia Park United Church
11:45 – silent “B.O.P” march with LAL
NOON – lunch @ taylor creek park – afghan women’s catering group
1300 – MATINEE: THE SPACE(S) BETWEEN – outdoor amphitheatre @ the (children’s) peace theatre
305 Dawes Road
1800 – outdoor film screening @ The peace theatre
red lips [cages for black girls] & trailers of Walking in Victor’s shoes/Nekkyd en The q[‘t] werd series
In the beginning was only the sky above, water and marshland below. The chief god Olorun ruled the sky, and the god/dess Olokun ruled what was below.
Obatala, another god, reflected upon this situation, then went to Olorun for permission to create dry land for all kinds of living creatures to inhabit. He was given permission, so he sought advice from Orunmila, oldest son of Olorun and the god of prophecy.
He was told he would need a gold chain long enough to reach below, a snail’s shell filled with sand, a white hen, a black cat, and a palm nut, all of which he was to carry in a bag. All the gods contributed what gold they had, and Orunmila supplied the articles for the bag. When all was ready, Obatala hung the chain from a corner of the sky, placed the bag over his shoulder, and started the downward climb.
When he reached the end of the chain he saw he still had some distance to go. From above he heard Orunmila instruct him to pour the sand from the snail’s shell, and to immediately release the white hen. He did as he was told, whereupon the hen landing on the sand began scratching and scattering it about. Wherever the sand landed it formed dry land, the bigger piles becoming hills and the smaller piles valleys. Obatala jumped to a hill and named the place Ife. The dry land now extended as far as he could see.
He dug a hole, planted the palm nut, and saw it grow to maturity in a flash. The mature palm tree dropped more palm nuts on the ground, each of which grew immediately to maturity and repeated the process. Obatala settled down with the cat for company. Many months passed, and he grew bored with his routine. He decided to create beings like himself to keep him company. He dug into the sand and soon found clay with which to mold figures like himself and started on his task, but he soon grew tired and decided to take a break.
He made wine from a nearby palm tree, and drank bowl after bowl. Not realizing he was drunk, Obatala returned to his task of fashioning the new beings; because of his condition he fashioned many imperfect figures. Without realizing this, he called out to Olorun to breathe life into his creatures. The next day he realized what he had done and swore never to drink again, and to take care of those who were deformed, thus becoming Protector of the Deformed. The new people built huts as Obatala had done and soon Ife prospered and became a city. All the other gods were happy with what Obatala had done, and visited the land often, except for Olokun, the ruler of all below the sky. She had not been consulted by Obatala and grew angry that he had usurped so much of her kingdom.
When Obatala returned to his home in the sky for a visit, Olokun summoned the great waves of her vast oceans and sent them surging across the land. Wave after wave she unleashed, until much of the land was underwater and many of the people were drowned. Those that had fled to the highest land beseeched the god Eshu who had been visiting, to return to the sky and report what was happening to them. Eshu demanded sacrifice be made to Obatala and himself before he would deliver the message. The people sacrificed some goats, and Eshu returned to the sky.
When Orunmila heard the news he climbed down the golden chain to the earth, and cast many spells which caused the flood waters to retreat and the dry land reappear.
So ended the great flood. Ase. Ase……..
And other ‘native’ creashun story goes like…..
In the beginning the new world consisted only of vast oceans. There was no land. Father Sky and his wife were admiring a beautiful tree – lush leaves and fruit, rich, dark bark. Father Sky’s wife told him that she had a great vision which called for him to pull the tree up by its roots, leaving a large hole in the sky.
Father Sky was sad, for he thought the tree quite beautiful, but he also realized the power of his wife’s vision. He wrapped his arms around the tree, gave a might heave, and uprooted the tree. Grasping hold of part of the tree, the woman looked through the hole, as she stretched a little further, she lost her footing and fell through.
The animals that were able to live in the water, turtle, beaver, whale and many others, looked up and saw the woman plummeting towards them. “What will we do,” they cried. “If she lands, she will drown!” Two swans unfurled their beautiful white wings, flew up and caught the woman; they brought her down where they floated on the waves. Everyone knew this could not go on for long, for the the swans would tire, and at some point the woman would need to sit down.
One by one the animals swam to the bottom of the ocean to see if they could bring up a little earth. The big whales tried, the otter tried, animals large and small, all tried. Finally, everyone was floating on top of the water very tired from all their efforts. Little Muskrat swam over and shyly said, “I think I can do it.” The other animals were too exhausted to even laugh at the thought. She took a deep breath and dove as far as she could. It took several tries, but finally, totally exhausted she floated to the surface with a little earth in her paw. “What will I do with it now?” she gasped. Turtle swam over, “Put it on my back, I have a broad back,” he said. Immediately the land began to grow until it was big enough for the swans to step on shore and let the woman down. She let go from her hands some seeds that came from the sacred tree she had been holding onto when she fell through the hole. The land grew and grew and along with it, forests, grasses, plants and vegetables. it was a wondrous sight, and that is how North America came to be created, and subsequently to be called Turtle Island.
[so this q(ues)t of the (divine) werd on the ground goes, (something) like a Prayer to the Seven Directions]
Grandfathers and Grandmothers of the East, each day you bring us new light so that we may grow in wisdom. We have been waiting for the time when your light would shine in the hearts of all people. Then they would remember the Original Instructions that were written in our hearts since the beginning of all things. Now is the time.
Grandmothers and Grandfathers of the South, your warm winds have sent us your love and the abundance from Mother Earth. We have always known that as we follow the Original Instructions we will walk in balance and harmony and all our needs will be met. The power and wisdom of this path is not easily understood when the mind is taught inside boundaries and the heart is closed to sissagwaad, the soft wind of spirit. Open the heart of those who follow the way of the mind.
Grandfathers and Grandmothers of the West, in the darkness of night you have sent us dreams to see deep inside our hearts, to learn how to walk the path of the spirit. We see the beauty that hides behind each moment and discover the Great Mystery that is in us and all things. Help the people of the mind see the power of their dreams. Help them learn from their dreams so that they can remember the Original Instructions.
Grandmothers and Grandfathers of the North, you have brought the cold winds and snows each year to cleanse our Mother Earth. Now the cleansing of the mind has begun. The energies of the stars have shifted into a new focus to end domination and hierarchy. No longer is it possible to live by the mind unless it is guided by the heart. Blow the fresh, clean wind of spirit to sweep away the belief systems that limit our brothers and sisters who are trapped in the way of the mind.
Kee-shay Giidzhii Manidou, you have sent visions and dreams to help us remember Who we are. We have not forgotten the Original Instructions. The stories have now been rediscovered and returned to the people. You have shown that the path of reconciliation and peace is through the heart. Send the light of inspiration to the Ogichidaag‘ who will show others a new way of being.
Gee-mama-nama-kee, you are our Mother, our Source of Life. You have given us our food, our water, air, shelter, and so many beautiful beings who are our Brothers and Sisters. We know we are connected to you and to all other beings in the Web of Life. Many are those who do not know of their connection. They see only with their eyes and their mind. With a narrow focus they see parts of things instead of the energy of love and wholeness. They have forgotten the Original Instructions. As their Mother, you have been patient with them. Extend that patience a little longer so the Ogichidaag‘ can show them a new way.
Great Mystery, we feel your presence in us and in all things. You are the spiral energy of love that connects all, is all. You are the circle of life, the circle way, the Original Instructions. When we are living in our heart, we can soar with the White Eagle to see beyond horizons.
When the drum has been smudged you can beat on it and say this prayer, either in English or Anishinaabemowin, the language of the Anishinabeg:
Midewewewigun, nindo-wiyauh.
I seek the drum.
And then:
N’midewewewigun, manitouwiyauwiwih.
Upon my drum bestow the mystery.
And to Ishpiming, All That Is:
M’gwech, Giidji manidou
Thanks, Great Spirit
Finally, an acknowledgement of the gift:
Kikinowautchi-beegaudae
It is so.
Your drum has been opened as a carrier of your prayers and petitions to the Great Mystery.
Other songs can be found in Ojibway Ceremonies by Basil Johnston from Bison Books (1990).
How the drum was brought to the Anishinabeg is told by Edward Benton-Banai in the Mishomis Book: the Voice of the Ojibway (1988) by Indian Country Communications, Inc. The original drum was the water drum, mi-tig-wa-tik’ day-way-gun, and contained water to represent the First Order of Being.
In our drum this is replaced by the stone set in the handgrip to avoid the humidity that would otherwise soften the drumhead. Later, the Anishinabeg added stones to the exterior ties of their drum. The hide of the deer, wawashkesh’shee, gave peace and gentleness to the drum, as well as speed and agility to the drumbeat.
One of the ceremonial uses of the Mother Earth Drum is healing. The first time I used the drum in healing, I heard the sissagwad, the soft wind of spirit, whisper to me to hold the drum over each chakra and beat softly. It worked. The next time that I did a healing, I did some energy work to break up blockages as I had been instructed to do. Then I noticed my drum sitting nearby and realized that I was supposed to use it…but not beating it. I was to caress the drum to make the sound of the wind whipping up a storm. The with my fingernails scraping across the drum, make the sound of thunder, and, drawing the fingers close together the thunder disappears into the distance. With more wind and more thunder comes the rain, the tapping of fingers making the multitude of raindrops striking the ground. More wind, more thunder, more rain…and then quieter, more distant thunder, a gentling wind, diminishing raindrops. Silence… The hurts and pains were washed away and all was fresh and clean. Another time, a friend in Denver asked me to help me with one of her horses who had a wound that wouldn’t heal. I thought: OK, some sage ceremony, some drumming.
I heard the sissagwad whisper. “No drumming. Use the rattle.”
“What?!” I questioned.
The sissagwad repeated, “No drumming. Use the rattle.”
“Impossible!” I thought. I remembered the cowboy movies I had seen as a boy. The horse hears the rattlesnake and panics, rearing high in the air. And I was going to be right there under the flailing front feet of the horse. How about drumming instead! I begged.
“No drumming. Use the rattle.”
I did the sage ceremony, smudging the entire paddock and the horse. The horse just stood perfectly still as I swept the smoke over the leg and then its whole body.
Then it was time for the rattle. I began to shake the rattle, watchful of any hint of a dangerous response. None. It worked. Then the horse “whispered” to me that ‘it had tickled.’ “What?” I asked. “It tickled,” the horse repeated. When the bandage was taken off too soon, it still tickled so I scratched it.” I told Diana to keep the wrap on longer and the problem was solved. A few months later I heard about the movie, The Horse Whisperer, but I knew that it worked BOTH ways—the horse can whisper to the human, too.
So listen to the sissagwad in your heart. Don’t get locked into any rigid ritual. That’s a head thing, a mind thing. Don’t misunderstand: the mind is good, but the intuition, listening to the soft wind of spirit in the heart, is an awesome source of wisdom beyond anything of which the mind is capable.
Another way to use the drum is to create a buzzing sound with each beat. Medicine men would often place inside the drum a stick with lots of smaller sticks pressing lightly against the back of the drumhead. The multiple tones and harmonics are supposed to elicit healing. With the Mother Earth Drum you can place the fingernail of your forefinger against the backside of the drumhead so that as you drum you will create a buzz. Unlike the medicine drum, you can withdraw your fingernail from the backside of the drumhead and use a normal beat. You can also use the tip of your finger to create a stop to a beat. Or you can use the fingernail of your forefinger to scratch on the backside of the drumhead. In using and combining all of these drumming techniques, you have a diverse “vocabulary” of sounds that can be used as needed. If your fingers are long enough you might even be able to use both your thumb and forefinger giving you two variations on the backside of the drumhead as well as the multitude of variations with the beater on the front of the drumhead. Your virtuosity is not limited to a change of volume and rhythms.
You will also find it very dramatic and powerful to strike the drumhead hard with the beater and hold the beater firmly against the drumhead. It’s almost like an explosion and reverberates with a rising, ringing overtone. Used with a crescendo of volume and rhythm, you can punctuate the finale of a sequence or, followed with quieter drumming and nuanced rhythms, you can create a symphony in percussion. The thin design of the Mother Earth Drum makes this all possible.
The drum can also be used for meditation and shamanic traveling. A constant, steady beat of the drum can alter consciousness.
Recovered from copyright theft of an unprincipled white squaw.
Dis’ werd on the ground: [is] doing the best we can to provide (revolutionary) pan-afrikan media coverage of the world cup.
So we celebrate Ghana’s Black stars victory not jus’ over Serbia, but in the struggle for afrikan liberation, manifest/ing in the past moons en years (en long ago), symbolised [most significantly for dis’ series on the q/t werd] in other historic events
So, it’s only fitting that, in honour and memory of our great ancestors, we commemorate this post to the anniversary of the death of Walter Rodney, a(nother Pan-Afrikan) King.
I give thanks for yesterday, today, and tomorrow, for bredrin and dadas in solidarity, for all the love and resources shared amongst ourselves, and all people liberating not only themselves, but others.
I pray for my families, friends and their families…….Bless our brothas and dadas, cooks, healers, mamas, peacemakers, our children, the future generations and (gran) mama earth. Ase. Ase…….
The q[/t] werd on the ground is doing it true true world cup style….working for unity everywhere from from Ayiti to Zimbabwe,[like in this hadithi] where we give thanks for the fiya, earth, air en wota this time! Mo’ blessings to people (practising and) speaking truth to power!
Hinche, Haiti-
An estimated 10,000 peasants gathered for a massive march in Central Haiti on June 4, 2010, to protest what has been described as “the next earthquake for Haiti” – a donation of 475 tons of hybrid corn seeds and vegetable seeds by the US-based agribusiness giant Monsanto, in partnership with USAID. While this move comes at a time of dire need in Haiti, many feel it will undermine rather than bolster the country’s food security.
According to Chavannes Jean-Baptiste, leader of the Peasant Movement of Papaye (MPP) and spokesperson for the National Peasant Movement of the Congress of Papaye (MPNKP), the entry of Monsanto seeds into Haiti is “a very strong attack on small agriculture, on farmers, on biodiversity, on Creole seeds… and on what is left our environment in Haiti.”
While Monsanto is known for being among the world’s largest purveyors of genetically modified seeds, the corporation’s spokespeople have emphasized that this particular donation is of conventional hybrid seeds as opposed to GMO seeds. Yet for many of Haiti’s peasants, this distinction is of little comfort.
“The foundation for Haiti’s food sovereignty is the ability of peasants to save seeds from one growing season to the next. The hybrid crops that Monsanto is introducing do not produce seeds that can be saved for the next season, therefore peasants who use them would be forced to somehow buy more seeds each season,” explains Bazelais Jean-Baptiste, an agronomist from the MPP who is currently directing the “Seeds for Haiti” project in New York City.
“Furthermore, these seeds require expensive inputs of synthetic fertilizers and pesticides that Haiti’s farmers simply cannot afford. This creates a devastating level of dependency and is a complete departure from the reality of Haiti’s peasants. Haitian peasants already have locally adapted seeds that have been developed over generations. What we need is support for peasants to access the traditional seeds that are already available.”
Who is La Via Campesina?
We are the international movement of peasants, small- and medium-sized producers, landless, rural women, indigenous people, rural youth and agricultural workers.
We defend the values and the basic interests of our members. We are an autonomous, pluralist and multicultural movement, independent of any political, economic, or other type of affiliation. Our 148 members are from 69 countries from Asia, Africa, Europe, and the Americas.
…..In a revolutionary manner, black women have utilised mass media (writing, film, video, art, etc.) to offer radically different images of ourselves. These actions have been an intervention. We have also dared to move out of our “place” (that is away from the bottom of everything, the place this society often suggests we should reside). Moving ourselves from manipulatable objects to self-empowered subjects, black women have by necessity threatened the status quo……This challenge to the status quo has generated serious anti-black female backlash that combines fierce racism ( en homophobia) with antifeminism…..this backlash requires that those of us who are aware be ever vigilant in our efforts to educate one another, and all black people, for critical consciousness. Backlash, from whatever source, hurts. It retards and obstructs freedom struggle. Intense attacks help create a context of burnout and despair.
It is crucial that black women and all our allies in struggle, especially progressive black men, seize the day and renew our commitment to black liberation and feminist struggle….
blogger’s note: I give thanks for the sistas en mamas who pour their heart and soul into practising and teaching balance, truth, justice and love. So, in honour of African Liberation Day, these healing words are excerpts from sisters of the yam: black women and self recovery by bell hooks & Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde. Ase. Ase. Ase. Ase O…..
In her essay (Eye to Eye), Audre Lorde urges black females to put our struggle to self actualise at the center of our daily life. She taught us,
Learning to love ourselves as black women goes beyond a simplistic insistence that “black is beautiful”. It goes beyond and deeper than the surface appreciation of black beauty, although that is certainly a good beginning.
But if the quest to reclaim ourselves and each other remains there, then we accept another superficial measurement of self, one superimposed upon the old one and almost as damaging, since it pauses at the superficial. Certainly it is no more empowering.
And it is empowerment – our strengthening in the service of ourselves and each other, in the service of our work and future – that will be the result of this pursuit
We have known, and continue to know, the rewards of struggling together to change society so that we can live in a world that affirms the dignity and presence of black womanhood. In many ways Sisters of the Yam: Black Women and Self Recovery is a manifestation of that joy and an expression of the awareness that we must be ever vigilant – the struggle continues…..
Introduction: Healing Darkness
Living as we do in a white supremacist capitalist partriachal context that can best exploit us when we lack a firm grounding in self and identity (knowledge of who we are and where we’re coming from), choosing “wellness” is an act of political resistance. Before many of us can effectively sustain engagement in organised resistance struggle, in black liberation movement, we need to undergo a process of self recovery that can heal individual wounds that may prevent us from functioning fully…..
It is important that black people talk to one another, that we talk with friends and allies, for the telling of our stories enables us to name our pain, our suffering and to seek healing…..
I: Seeking After Truth
We have to consciously study how to be tender with each other until it becomes a habit because what was native has been stolen from each other, the love of black women for each other. But we can practive being gentle with each other by being gentle with that piece of ourselves that is hardest to hold, by giving more to the brave bruised girl child within each of us, by expecting a little less from her gargantuan efforts to excel. We can love her in the light as well as in the darkness, quiet her frenzy towards perfection and encourage her attentions towards fulfillment…as we arm ourselves with ourselves and each other, we can stand toe to toe inside that rigorous loving and begin to speak the IMPOSIBBLE – to one another. The first step toward genuine change. Eventually, if we speak the truth to each other, it will become unavoidable to ourselves.
Audre Lorde, “Eye to Eye: Black Women, Hatred, and Anger”
Healing takes place within us as we speak the truth of our lives….commitment to truth telling is thus the first step in any process of self recovery…telling the truth about one’s life is not simply about naming the “bad” things, exposing horrors. It is also about being able to speak openly and honestly about feelings, about a variety of experiences. It is fundamentally not about withholding information so as to exercise power over others….
hence, it must be remembered that to be open and honest in a culture of domination, a culture that relies on lying, is a courageous gesture. Within white-supremacist capitalist partriarchal culture, black people are not supposed to be “well”. This culture makes wellness a “white” luxury. To choose against that culture, to choose wellness, we must be dedicated to truth. By giving up the illusory power that comes from lying and manipulation and opting instead for the personal power and dignity that comes from being honest, black women can begin to eliminate life threatening pain from our lives
II: The Joy of Reconciliation
Healing inner wounds makes reconciliation possible. Reconciliation is one of my favourite words. Evoking our capacity to restore to harmony that which as been broken, severed, and disrupted. The very word serves as a constant reminder in my life that we can come together with those who have hurt us, with those whom we have caused pain, and experience sweet communion.
To be at peace, black women, especially those among us who have been deeply wounded and hurt, must release the bitterness we hold within us. Bitterness is like a poison. When it’s inside us, it spreads even to the parts of the self that allow us to feel joy and a spirit of celebration. Yet many of us choose to hold onto pain through the cultivation of bitterness and an unforgiving heart….when we give ourselves love and peace, we can give these gifts to others. It’s really impossible to live a life in love while hoping that harm and hurt will come to others…
Again, I think it is important that we remember that forgiveness does not mean that we cease to assertively identify wrongs, hold others to account, and demand justice…..this is the true realization of justice – that we want what is peaceful and life sustaining for all and not just for ourselves.
…..we have to forgive with our whole hearts. If we forgive in words but continue to harbour secret resentment, nothing really changes. When forgiveness happens, when there is compassion, the groundwork for reconciliation is possible. For me that is the ultimate joy: That we learn that there are no broken bonds that cannot be mended, no pain that cannot be assuaged
III Touching the Earth
…..Collective black self recovery takes place when we begin to renew our relationship to the earth, when we remember the way of our ancestors. When the earth is sacred to us, our bodies can also be sacred to us……
My favourite things about today are yet to come, I love Thursdays for the simple reason that I know every night will be a ‘jood’ one. En I get one night closer to Saturday, another one of those (guaranteed) ‘jood’ time(s), the rest of my evenings are up for grabs by wind (dadas), moon, sun, rain, work en love
Tonight, I’mma break my ritual(s) and go for the (pre)screening of ‘red lips’ instead, in this space en (neo-colonial/post-modern) times, you gotta take stories about (queer/trans/pan) afrikans wherever they offer themselves. It’s (not) often en (not) widespread, (depending on how/en/where you look at/read it)…
Even though I haven’t even ‘seen’ the (short) film yet, haven’t ‘read’ the reviews, seen the ads, or followed it on any social engine, I’ve marked off the premiere of the Legacy Video Project in my calendar. http://www.insideout.on.ca/20/program_details.php?id=31
It’s ‘special’ in so many ways, one of those (community) rituals that define (not only) my ‘Canadian’ (en Tdot) status (butof a fragmented and intersecting group of ‘others’).
For (almost) as long as I’ve lived in this country, I have attended the festival; I first volunteered in Tdot @ InsideOut; most of my ‘official’ film experience has been thanks to the queer youth digital video project &
….ndio, there’s a pattern, so, ofcourse I have a sweet spot for all things queer(trans) en (film&video)spice (many others do, en feel me on this too – uchandirayasi!) en it’s (notso) obvious that I have plenty access en privilege to re/define myself in queer & trans positive spaces.
These are one of the many reasons Tdot could ‘potentially’ be the ‘best’ city in the world, we’re a ‘nicer’ (version of) New York (or so I’ve heard, coz I ain’t crossed THAT border yet, but from what I heard, it sounds like, from a pan-afrikan perspective, the only ting’ that New York has over Tdot is Brooklyn en the Bronx, Manhattan is just so gay), en if you’re an Afrikan in the diaspora, where better to experience the whole world (if you choose to) than in (dis) one city?
Where so many ‘others’ re/define one of the national landmark/s of turtle island? (you couldn’t experience such living in jo’burg, kampala, kigali, lagos, mogadishu, monrovia or nairobi, maybe with enough time en immigrants…..)
En yes, if you unpack these hadithi, you’d read I was telling you this, because it’s Very.Important.People. I have (more than 31) personal (en political) reasons to be going to see ‘red lips’ tonight…the actions (are) layered, (en symbolic) as markers in the ‘Q’ werd.
Red lips, is the crux, is swagger, is nneke dumele, audrey mbugua & tomee sojourner, trey anthony, zanele muholi, wahu kaara & pouline kimani, bombastic kasha & victor mukasa, tajudeen abdul raheem & audre lorde, seven sisters & anitafrika dub theatre…(many) dadas en bredrin in solidarity, in film/theory but not nearly as many as we need in practice, in intersecting and separate spaces, for different purposes, all to rebuild en reclaim ourselves en our communities….
we gotta still continue from ‘here’, give thanks not only for who we’ve got, or where we’re coming from, but for what’s coming as we prepare…..
the big(ger) point is that we are not the only ones who’ve found (some of) what we’ve been looking for. We ARE the ones we’ve been looking for, so now what? the crux is working on OUR unity (first), en manifesting our (re)visions, (or, jus’ what IS the crux?)
Since time, everything that one does (re)defines oneself, and since ‘we’ walked, we’ve (re)defined ourselves in groups, labelled God/dess(es), en change/d….. in other words, this is a(nother) pan-afrikan postcard, another hadithi of dadas (en mamas) in solidarity
I’m going to see red lips tonight for (more than)a few reasons; I’ve read en heard the story, witnessed en shared in parts of its production, en I (am in) love (with) the performance of this hadithi. There’s something about any producer who delves into the significance of healing en self recovery for womyn through ritual en wota, en about the ‘actors’ who re/tell the story with their (own) body-memories, something about taking time to see (beautiful/performance) art used for revolushunary change, it’s like (good) food for the soul en dadas.(practis)in(g).solidarity, which is quite simply, jood!
ofcourse i’m also jus more likely to be going coz, the womyn who produced the piece is not only (a) fine as may wine (dada who knows many other sweet as honey sistas) but one of the many afrikans (or few, depending on how/where you look at/read it) who’ve shared their energy, love, teachings, en time with me…..one of the many that I been looking for, who’ve changed not only me, but others…
And now that it’s spring (or autumn depending on where your latitude is at) again, and (my) be/loved let me go, now that I’ve (quite literally) fallen through the hole en like ‘Alice in Wonderland’ (this is real when I say I volunteered at my first un-Anniversary last nite, so today of all days, I feel particularly qualified to speak on matters of peace & conflict, magic.of.symbolism, truth & reconciliation), today I feel particularly ‘entitled’ to getting some ‘honey’ , I wasn’t beheaded by the Queen, she eve/n ‘spoke’ to me, I ate good food en mostly tended a hookah with a surreal caterpillar, en all in all had quite a sweet (un-anniversary) time…something like when I went to see the ‘other’ queen, the week before that….(went to) fe(e)d the wota, en she gave me some priceless gifts in return…
(but now that’s another hadithi)…
the bigger point is that (those) red lips are one of the 31 hadithi of the ‘Q’ werd.
A mystic, organic, and (us) people driven caravan of (change en) pan-afrikan stories.
Something like a series of auto-myth(o)-biographies en interviews with ordinary people en (super/s)heroes, retelling our true true stories for the sake of pikney. Because if we don’t tell them our true true stories, who will? En if we don’t practice peace, (en fight for our freedom by any means necessary) then where will ‘they’ learn (IT) from?
Molisa wa NyaKale 