There is nothing more beautiful than finding and loving a fierce woman. To see her blackness, her tears, her stripes of pain but she stands, she withstands, she moves, she glides, she may fall but never breaks. We have observed the crooked room, we have stood within the crooked room and brick by brick we attempt to dismantle the room that remains crooked. I am my sister’s keeper. I am the midnight phone call, I am the shady one in the group chat, I send memes, and ask for permission to travel out the state. Maybe I’m even the one with the bat willing to fight someone for you.
But no-one can see, understand or love a black woman like another black woman can. A year ago when I was told of the opportunity to study beneath Dr.Wendi Manuel-Scott later renamed Dr.Muva, I couldn’t have imagined the women, the knowledge , the growth , and fire that would forever change my life. I didn’t know the universe had aligned the moon and the stars to allow this group of women to not only to find each other but love each other fiercely. We have cried, we have eaten, we have wrote…then spent time reading what was written. Supporting each other we’ve shared our dreams and passions in the safe room of sisters. I. Needed. Them. My Heart. Needed Them. My mind stimulated by them, unintentionally gave me the confidence and strength to take steps in directions I couldn’t have fathomed.
I am glad to walk hand in hand with activist, with defiance, my protestors, my system agitators, my teachers and mentors, my government officials, my day to day workers, my students, my beautiful black women that I now call sisters.
Recognizing we need this space I pen this letter because black women need a black woman’s support. There is something in our soul that desires to reach depths that only a black woman can pull out of us. There is something about vulnerability, honesty, truth, laughter and pain. Creating these spaces is hard, but not impossible. It took will, it took guts, it took hard working women fighting an educational system to say I will create a space for women of color. This space focused only and solely on the untold and hidden stories of THE black woman.
It is with these women, I learn to laugh and get my chakras right and put on my make up otherwise known as war paint. It is with these women, that I learn every single day of breath is a day of resistance and we exist to resist.
One year of sisterhood, a lifetime to go.