Juneteenth, #blackjoy, and Sowing Freedom Forward

I love a garden.  A green space of my own is one of my top-ten life goals. I come from a country that still retains a predominant percentage of its pristine rainforests, and can boast a long line of relatives that were (and are) stewards of the land. It is one of my greatest joys and marvels that they chose to retain this heritage in spite of generational trauma resounding from prior forced servitude on those very same lands, in North and South America. In this vein, I understand some of the legacies of slavery in the United States.

Imagine the value of urban green spaces for folks that have evolved beyond the legacy of slavery and sharecropping; migrating from predominantly rural agricultural communities to larger metropolises; sacrificing fresh air, affordable and generous living quarters. Urban green spaces, farms and gardens are a vital and intrinsic part of the mental, physical, and, dare I say, spiritual fortitude of the people that provide and/or seek them out. There is also an often overlooked economic affect as well. This becomes an interesting hurdle when one considers city zoning rules that designate what spaces can be used in what ways in every community. An endeavor to reclaim an abandoned lot previously collecting garbage thoughtlessly chucked by passersby and unscrupulous businesses can become a battle for real estate suddenly deemed valuable. Modern civilization often manifests itself in an unfortunate divorce from the free simplicity of enjoying land, air, food and water. How did we come to this?

It is no coincidence that gardeners often have other social justice projects under their belts. Black Joy in action.

"Black Joy" is a radical concept these days. Social media attests to this, and the apparent retaliation and rhetoric surrounding it proves that it is potent in its application and documentation. I have documented in this blog my initial forays into establishing a green sanctuary of my own, as a way to reconnect with the sacred, magical earth, as well as to channel creativity: from working the soil to photographing and cataloging its mysteries, to sharing its tasty and therapeutic rewards. It is an ever-unfolding practice, much like meditation that may involve complicated handstands, or simpler breathing techniques.

A much-needed break to re-hydrate and enjoy fruit and vegetable salads.

Some things are not meant to be rushed, but gently and mindfully coaxed towards their highest potential. And whatever bug bites or dusty jeans I've acquired in this process, I've always left that green space happier, more fulfilled, and restored for whatever came next once my feet touched concrete.

Touching the soil is as important as handling the delicate shoots being transplanted. 

The height of irony came after the first Juneteenth, which began in Texas in 1865, with the mass exodus from the resistant Confederate states. They carried within them a powerful knowledge of the land, even though they were enslaved to it. That paired with the newfound courage and will to organize brought forth the most earnest efforts to thrive in pre-Civil Rights Era United States. The real victory here in those early post-Civil War struggles that rolled into the next decade of the Reconstruction Era was a revolutionary concept of individual autonomy and dignity for Blackfolk, intrinsically tied to their occupation and thriving on and from the land they stood upon.

The backlash against progression was swift and vicious in the South, and followed in a more insidiously institutionalized way as folks migrated North to urban centers, looking for jobs, homes, and peace of mind. City rules and political circumvention put many of them in public housing, in neighborhoods zoned away from parks, farms, and quality groceries (apparently). The influx of fast food advertising, convenience, liquor, and pawn stores in certain 'hoods instead of others helped to put a negative spin on the intrinsic value of the bodies inhabiting these areas. The joie de vivre was stripped and devalued, in place of fast, cheap, and a limited food spectrum (white, yellow, and brown- gee, what foods are these colors?). In a way, the rush to forget the (punishing) agrarian roots of the South allowed for a grand departure from its more wholesome culinary legacies, and an itchy wool to cover the collective's eyes.

When a space gets reclaimed from its dirty dumping ground identity, an angel gets its wings...or a neighbor gets her zucchinis.

The Blk Projek is a nonprofit organization started by Bronx resident Tanya Fields in 2009 as an act of resistance to food injustice in her South Bronx neighborhood. When she started her organization with Mommy and Me outreach to provide healthy food choices for the mothers and children of the neighborhood, the feedback shone light on the need for more education and economic development. Food deserts in urban neighborhoods has since become a new front in the attack on economic and mental poverty, as the adage "feed the brain" has dramatic implications for those that are literally starved of nourishment. The Libertad Urban Farm is a natural extension of this effort, as justice and freedom fighting comes in many forms, both radical and seemingly mundane. She encourages better choices by making them more visible, with a healthy sprinkling of the aforementioned "Joy". What people may not recognize is the vital task of normalizing a health-food trend that naysayers of the food desert concept scoff at, while they attribute troubling community health statistics to bad cultural choices in the face of an abundance of access to green groceries. Once again, representation is everything. on every level of society.

Libertad Urban Farm, at 972 Simpson Street in The Bronx.

Ms. Fields negotiated her way through city ordinances and public misconceptions with grassroots elbow grease to create and maintain a safe and healthy space, snatching this parcel back from the development list. I was honored to be invited to share some of the load to rebuild and reorganize Libertad Urban Farm on Simpson Street near Southern Boulevard in the Bronx on June 9th. It was a sunny day, and the large mound of soil greeted me at the entrance, daring anyone to approach it with a meaningful shovel. All around us, apartment buildings played sentinel to our toil, with the occasional curious onlooker from a balcony or fortified window grating. Some people walking by on the sidewalk stopped to chat with our carpenter in Spanish, or Tanya, herself, if they recognized her. They see what she is doing, and for the most part, it seems to bring visible joy and relief to their faces.

Ms. Fields herself came and went while I worked in the garden, as she was busy working on some grant applications with a pressing deadline, but she was very much involved with the entire process. The property was vandalized recently, by those who littered and stole supplies, setting back previous gains. The re-education and re-prioritizing of a community continues. A shed was bought, and funds from the NYC Parks Department supplied much needed tools, organic manure and wood to construct raised beds. This will not be a one-off effort to beautify and prepare, but an ongoing labor of love during the fertile season to bring nutrient-dense edibles to the community, as well as a space to recharge the spirit of a proud people.

I can't wait to go back and show you the "after" picture of this raised bed- cucumbers and squash runners everywhere!

Read up on some of Ms. Fields' earlier efforts with Libertad here.
Find out about upcoming events here.

Inner Truth Through Fire: A Sacred Discussion, Part 1

A Sacred Discussion on the Birth of Kuumba’s FIRE Retreat

What have I learned this spring and summer? I've learned that being a woman in America is an ever-evolving concept. There's the skin you're born in and the mind encased within flesh that may betray one's true desire and form of expression. I have learned the terminology of a more public struggle than even the previous generation dared to acknowledge in reconciling trans- and cis-gendered societies. I have seen and heard tales of the torturous disregard for humanity in the sanctity of a place of worship. We have all witnessed and are left to interpret the misguided projections of law enforcement and free speech afresh and in startling high definition in the age of the smartphone, youtube and dash cameras, and yet far too often the results are laid bare on the minds and bodies of our women. How do we as women stand strong in the face of adversity and rebel at a prescribed notion of how we collectively look, act and exist? 

Throughout human history, fire was a strong force for creativity, reinvention and communication. Even in its destructive and uncontrollable tendencies, fire always has a lesson to teach humans. In many ways it was the first language, and accompanied oral history in vibrant fashion.  In Greek mythology, the Titan Prometheus stole fire from Zeus and gifted it to the mortal humans he was tasked to create. This act of defiance warranted eternal punishment from the god of gods, not unlike another well-known creation story involving a talking serpent and the woman, Eve. Another inspiring image-myth is that of the Phoenix bird, self-destructing in a tumult of flames, only to be reborn again from its own ashes. All of these powerful stories promote the concept of fire and knowledge as dual forces of creativity and potential self-destruction that we as humans are tasked with mastering and passing down to the next generation, for our collective enlightenment and survival.

As a woman, creativity is part of my mitochondrial DNA. It is a birthright of sorts, a bona fide genetic predisposition, and an inherent responsibility that at times can seem burdensome. As a writer, my personal endeavor becomes the challenge I embody, to channel this instinctive creative passion towards meaningful communication, thought and action.

I see the same spirit and potent flame emanating from a dear friend of mine, Sacred Walker. We sat down at Brooklyn’s Central Library on April 21st to acknowledge the challenge of being creative women, and discuss the fleshing out of a creative birth, Kuumba Health’s FIRE Retreat.

Sing/Teach/Write/Fly: I am here with Ms. Sacred Walker of Kuumba Health. If you don’t mind introducing yourself for everyone?

Sacred Walker: My honor, beautiful sister queen. I am the founder and lead Executive Manager of Kuumba Health, LLC. We are fiscally sponsored by the Black Women’s Blueprint, based in Brooklyn, New York. Our mission is to foster the #soulcare in healthcare. www.khhp.org.

STWF: So happy for you to be the first interviewee for my great endeavor in highlighting important women of color, women in general doing amazing things in the City of New York and beyond. As a blogger, I felt this was something I had to do to be able to highlight the amazing women that I know and I look up to and hope to reach out to and collaborate with in different ways. So here we are, I appreciate the privilege. So, when did the seed of Kuumba Health germinate within?

SW: First I want to acknowledge that I have known you for many years and we went to high school together and it is such a treat to see you stepping into your power as a beautiful woman, so I am just honored that I get to be that first person. I feel like that is such a gift. And to answer your question when did it first germinate, I would say two pieces. One was that I was at the time studying psychology and the focus I was looking at was healing through performance art. I was also studying sociology of liberation in undergrad and I took an African psychology class and studied many beautiful powerful names such as Dr. Nobles, Dr. Akbar, many others that have an understanding of the Jungian approach as being based in and coming from Western African consciousness, looking at healing as both being spiritual as well as being psychological. and recognizing the importance of community as a way to help bring back a person to themselves when they feel disconnected from themselves, disassociate or have some kind of a psychiatric or psychotic break. So that’s the theory that grounds my practice, and it has shown itself in many different forms. I think the point where I understood it most fully was when I was sitting with my mom in a psychiatric ward. She had developed a schizophrenic break is what we understood [it] at the time. I didn’t really have a language for it outside of what I had studied in school and the psychiatrist was talking to me about medications, and anyone who knows my family knows that we don’t usually take medications, and so they were talking about the fact that she was noncompliant to her medication, and they were talking to me but she was right in the room. And something about that just hurt my heart, I kept saying, “well you know she’s right here, can you tell her? Can you ask her why it is that she’s not taking her medication? Have you asked her questions?” And they said, “well you’re here, we’re talking to you”, and at the time I had taken on the role of her health proxy. And something about that dehumanizing experience, of somehow the minute that she was seen as an inpatient- person impacted by psychiatric issues, it felt like she became a nonperson. It also felt like the very real experience that she had- that the medication actually gave her intense side effects like stomach aches, dizziness, lightheadedness, slurring of the tongue, twitchy eye-  when she had never taken medication before, expecting her to be compliant when it caused such intense side effects was going to be hard. And so, after doing some investigation they found out that, oh, they gave her the wrong medication, that it was a daytime medication that was supposed to be at night. It was causing her a lot of side effects and as well as sleepiness in the daytime, so that disconnected feeling had everything to do with both her mental health challenges, but also the medication itself and it was having an affect on someone who had never taken medication. So, something about it just felt like a dishonoring of her soul and who she was and not taking time to fully understand who was in the room, and also fully understand that for her it also meant that the way that she spoke with spirit and the dreaming that she had also stopped. So, yes, she was seen as psychotic at the time, but there were also ways that she communicated spiritually that also stopped; the way that we in our family communicate with spirits stopped, so there needed to be a balance. She needed medication that met her needs holistically but [it] also needed to have a broader understanding of who she was spiritually and in our family as a matriarch and a very spiritually-led person. That [if] you take her ability to dream and imagine and speak the spirit away, and you also take away a part of who she is and a part of her soul, a part of the way that she moves in the world, and that can also feel very disconnecting. So, it was a catch-22 it was like going from one way of disconnecting to another. So then that’s where the idea of #soulcare came from; this understanding that we need to honor the soul of a person, and recognize that the majority of the folks who over time that I have worked with have actually had religious ideation. Which means that in their psychiatric breaks or psychotic episodes,they have had conversations that resemble ones that people would say are like intense ecstatic experience related to something religious. In understanding that and recognizing that, having an understanding that maybe there’s more to psychiatry than medication and chemical imbalances in the brain. something fed by fostering the #soulcare in healthcare.

STWF: Moving on, was there one poignant catalyst or chain of events that you can identify as the Aha Moment in which KH came to be?

SW: I would say that KH has not been pulled together, the team has been pulled together within the last year, but it Kuumba Health has been in existence the ten years. It wasn’t until last Saturday that I finally understood what #soulcare looked like. Without undermining the whole experience, this Saturday when we ran our workshop called Race Matters at Sarah Lawrence College, there was a beautiful mix of libations, of theater of the oppressed, of calling in the ancestors, of acknowledging the wounds of racism and also looking at freeing the voice and how that all moved together to say, “if the system of oppression doesn’t change, how do I move through it? How do I change and shift my relationship to it? Where do I find my release and my freedom in the midst of racism?” Being within a room of women of color, it felt like so many different parts of trainings and experiences came to a head, and it felt clear to me in that moment that this is a very different way. Sometimes when you are experiencing the shit of the world, there are no words for it. Sometimes its just a grunt, a flip your arms up, just a praise dance, sometimes there is no language for it. Post Traumatic Stress is you either go into a place of fight, flight or freeze; you either want to fight, you either go into this place of feeling stuck, or you want to run away. But if one’s  [my] everyday experience is stressful based on racism, then there are many people who perpetually live their lives in that place; they are running from everything, they’re freezing in the face of things, they’re constantly fighting. It doesn’t make them bad or different, it just makes it what it is, the environment of racism that we live in. So sometimes, healing can just be a deep place of release. An activity that we did, Onome had us in a circle, using our voice to sing this release, to call in what we hoped for. It was powerful, and at that moment everything came together. Oh, this is what KH is; sometimes you are healing parts of yourself, that doesn’t have words and may not need words, because it’s so ancient, that there may not be a language for it. And you still have to find that strength to go back to that job or that street corner or whatever, and experience what you do every day, the reality. So that for me was my AHA moment.

STWF: As Sacred Walker, how important is the concept of storytelling and journey as it applies to you vision of and work at KH?

SW: I feel like it’s everything. As a writer and poet and playwright, the way that I connect with spirit and learn what ancestors want me to do is through story. That story came out of me over time and cried and wept. Now after writing that play and understanding that story now I have a clearer idea  why spirit had me go through the process of creating that piece, led me that way. As a WOC I think it’s important for us to understand our stories and those that come before us and who we stand on. And to find out that we have so much in common with other people, more than we think.

Sacred Walker and Kuumba Health’s mission is to collaborate with health administrators and community members to “creatively and innovatively foster mind-body-spirit relevant health and advocacy practices in supporting marginalized communities”.

The takeaway from this introduction of a fiery sister souljah is one of a fervent vision of integrative healing coupled with strategic planning and collaboration. This is more of what we want in the new millennium of healthcare and diversified populations in America. We can learn from our travels and individual journeys and, in the best scenario, teach our communities at home how to heal itself and spread a strong positive outlook for the challenges that life always throws at us. For those women who already in the trenches advocating, organizing, and building their businesses out of the ashes, they, too, need an outlet and support system to keep embody their power and influence and remain balanced in this unsettled climate of anxiety and injustice.

When It Rains It Surely Pours...Thoughts on SHE Summit, Same Sky and The Athena Phenomenon- Part 1

I had been depressed for a while now. It comes in bursts after a period of latency, crowding out my innovative, get-up-and-do spirit, and making it that much harder to feel effective and inspired to get out of whatever funk I found myself in. It's not like I forgot my Happy Black Woman challenge, it's just a culmination of long work hours at this new job (which has been rich combination of experiences challenges met and ideas fostered) and pressures from my mother (bless her, really!) to keep looking for The Job Opening that would really launch my career.

Let me just say that for a while after graduating from NYU, I really was gunning for a career that matched my thesis study, something in the international development, sustainable human rights work, etc. realm. I still am very much interested in working on those issues, and including the equally important environmental, immigration, civic duty and community activism tracks. My problem has always been that I didn't know how to find the career guidance and support I so craved. I grew up with two dichotomies that I still find myself on the odd sides of, depending on my hormone cycle:
1- Ask and ye shall receive (whether this was ask God, ask a friend, ask the various relatives that my mother did or did not have good terms with (at the wrong intervals, it seemed to me. whole other blog topic, that one...)).
2- Don't be so needy, research and find your own way, be independent and innovative.

Both of these in their own ways are noble and commendable mandates, but they get confusing and overwhelming when one considers one's upbringing, current financial state and personal anxiety/depression issues/agnostic issues.

I wanted (and still want) to do everything! I want to tackle why New York City youth are bombarded by the seduction of spending, without the focused and dedicated tutelage from our various school systems on the subject of responsible personal finance. In fact, let's start teaching them in the 5th grade, and not wait for high school impulsive hormones to cloud their judgments.

I want to seek out and engage the people that are helping bring the immense problem of sex trafficking women and girls in this city as well as globally (especially in my home region of Latin America and the Caribbean). This problem alone is undercutting the next generation of women via economic devaluation, plain old abuse and psychological as well as sexual slavery. Where will our leaders come from and to whom will they speak if they still feel their (and their subject audience's) value stems from which man "protects" her? If she still feels that her voice holds no water weight unless a champion steps forth from among the lions in the same vicious arena of spectators?

My mind races now, trying to get these sentiments out, but sometimes it paralyzes me with the sheer enormity of how many issues there are to be solved in this world, in this city! Which one do I pick up and champion? how do I get involved in a meaningful, not to overwhelming, and possibly life-uplifting way? When I say life-uplifting, in this case, I am talking about the dedication of putting long hours into a project/career/job that supports me coming out of my own personal debt, being able to pay all of my bills every month instead of robbing my own bank accounts; the ability to stop stressing about providing for my mother and sisters; the courage to take challenges wherever in the world knowing that my value is beyond how much income I can generate for a company, like a highly educated milk cow.

Enter one dispirited afternoon of reading emails. Every so often, I see what LivingSocial is offering the public. Sure, a vacation to St. Petersburg is on my list, but when I saw the words SHE Summit, I was really intrigued. I had never heard of Claudia Chan and her organization, but I do know a good deal when I see it. I immediately signed up to attend this women-focused conference, and jumped on the opportunity that it offered for me to volunteer with registration and setup.

I swear, volunteering has been changing my life in the past year in more ways than I can really attribute, and I am determined to find a way into My Career through continued service to my community. I decided that I would take Friday off of work and take the 7am to 2pm registration desk shift. I didn't leave until about 7:30pm; how ambition really drives the eager soul, sometimes! I did get to speak with some amazing and inspiring co-volunteers and sponsors, exchange some emails and business cards and even dole out some of my own wisdom and insights to fellow women.

This morning I jumped out of bed at 5:41 and have been excited about going to the conference today as an attendee. I was tweeting and taking picture to upload to Facebook and I truly have a renewed spirit to take on The Issues At Hand. I think I have even beat this confounded writer's block!

Stay tuned for round two!