a love-driven survival

I am an earth lover from way back. I am in love with losers and laughter. I am in love with freedom and children.-Assata Shakur

[Header created by woc duo artist group, Climbing Poetree]

holy goods.

woundedandpriceless:

(first draft, late night/early morning freewrite.)

Chile, let the sun

shine in,

and feel F L Y.

I’m talkin’

brand new suit-struttin’ kinda F L Y.

Let Avery*Sunshine sing riffs of deliverance

into each sift of flour dust

as it cakes the corner of each eye

Cookie…

How to Not Die: Some Survival Tips for Black Women Who Are Asked to Do Too Much

crunkfeministcollective:

Audre Lorde

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence,

it is self-preservation,

and that is an act of political warfare.”                           

–Audre (the) Lorde

High blood pressure runs in my family.  I have been taking medication to regulate it for six years and I recently started getting intense headaches and migraines that I realized were related to hypertension.  Deadline-driven days have become so commonplace in my life that I didn’t recognize or respond to the “stress” anymore.  It became normalized.  A way of life.  The way my life is.  This is a problem.  And sometimes I won’t sit down (read: take a break from work) until/unless I am hurting.  That is also a problem.  I always tell myself that I am going to take better care of myself, but the priority of paying attention to my emotional and psychic needs usually gets put on the backburner—behind things that seem to require my immediate attention.  I will take care of myself after I teach my class…  after I mentor the student…  after I attend the meeting…  after I finish grading…  after I write the last 5 pages of the paper that was due last week…  after I read the thesis, write the report, and wash the dishes…  After…after…after…  My life is a continuous cycle of roles and responsibilities that make my personal wellbeing an afterthought, something that can perpetually wait.  Until now.  I am learning that undue and unnecessary stress has no place in my life.  And looking at the lives and legacies of black feminist foremothers reminds me that I have some agency around strategies for saving myself. (For a beautiful reflection on this, see Alexis Pauline Gumbs’ piece The Shape of My Impact)

I believe the stress of weighty expectations and doing too much takes its toll on us.  It doesn’t happen all at once.  It happens over weeks and months and years of pushing our own needs and desires down until we can’t feel them anymore.  It happens, subtly, until it makes sense to do too much because that is just the way things are, the way things have always been.  That, too, is a problem.  It is a problem when caretaking (taking care) becomes something we do for other people and not ourselves.  It is up to us to survive and not just survive but thrive in our lives.  To not put work above living.  To not make ourselves our last resort.  To not wait until we are tired to rest.  To not wait until we are sick to make healthy choices.  To not wait until we have pleased everyone else to think about our own needs.  To not postpone our own happy.  To not just tolerate foolishness.

I have been working on a list of ways to take care of myself and to honor the lives and legacies of the black feminists before me whose lives ended too soon.  I worry that our foremothers were worked to death.  I worry that they didn’t see death coming because they were too busy taking care of other things.  I worry that they had too much to do and ran out of time.  I worry that they didn’t get to see themselves as celebrated and loved and worthy of celebration and love.  I worry that they worked too much, too hard, and for too little pay.  I worry that people saw them as strongblackwomen and forgot to see them as human.  I worry that our jobs, our families, our friends, and sometimes our supporters expect too much and we expect too little.

I am no longer flattered when people ask me to do things because I am “so good at it…”

I will not be punished for a job well done.

I will not be overworked and underpaid.

I will not do free labor (there must be some kind of reciprocal exchange, which does not necessarily mean money but means I don’t prostitute my gifts).

I will not let people use me.

I will not feel guilty for saying no.

I will ask for what I need.

I will walk away if I don’t get what I need.

I will fight against injustice in the world, starting in my own life!

It is inconceivable that we are expected to just get used to injustice (racism, sexism, classism, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, ageism, etc.).  We have to resist injustice and talk back to it, but not at the expense of being well.  I don’t want to give myself over to the struggle.  I don’t want to be superwoman in my twenties, strongwoman in my thirties, and suffocated in my forties.  We can’t let the work (and there is much work to be done) take us out.  We have to be mindful about how we engage others and ourselves, especially when it comes to obligations and expectations of our time, minds, bodies, thoughts, experiences and hearts.  I don’t want to give myself away.  And the labor of love that is my life is not free, nor is it worth my emotional/physical/mental/spiritual health.  I am disinterested in being a martyr.

In a posthumous collection of her work, Some of Us Did Not Die, June Jordan writes:

…But we have choices, and capitulation is only one of them. 

I am always hoping to do better than to collaborate with whatever or whomever it is that means me no good.  For me, it’s a mind game with everything at stake.  For example, what has what kind of savagery blurred or blocked or buried alive?

This is an excerpt from my Poem To Take Back the Night:

What about moonlight

What about watching for the moon above

the tops of trees and standing

still enough to hear the raucous crickets

chittering invisible beneath the soon lit stones

What about moonlight

What about moonlight

What about watching for the moon

through windows low enough to let the screams

and curses of the street the gunshots

and the drunken driver screeching tires

and the boombox big beat and the tinkle

bell ice cream truck

inside

What about the moonlight

What about the moonlight … .

Luckily, there are limitless, new ways to engage our tender, and possible responsibilities, obligations that our actual continuing coexistence here, in these United States and here, in our world, require.

Here are a few survival tips (in no particular order) for black women who are asked to do too much:

  1. Take some time to/for yourself and be unapologetic about it.  At least one hour of your day should be yours.  Whether your vice be a glass of wine and reality TV, Facebooking, caking, going to a sporting event, talking on the phone to a friend you haven’t seen in a while, going to listen to live music, reading a book, writing in a journal, a bubble bath (don’t forget the candles), etc., it is important to take the time to do something that allows you to decompress, unwind, and relax.
  2. Say no! (I have written about this at length here and here, but essentially I have learned how to say no to others and to say yes to myself.  This means that I don’t over-extend myself, I don’t do things I don’t want to do, and I make “no” my default response to spontaneous or last-minute requests.  I believe that women feel obligated to say yes even when they want to say no because it seems/feels polite.  Be impolite!  Say no (without an explanation/reason).
  3. Reject negativity.  We all have well-meaning folk in our life who have something to say about everything and have unsolicited opinions about our lives, loves, choices.  While it is important to take responsibility for the choices (and consequences) we make in life, we don’t have to take on other people’s baggage.  Surround yourself with positive people.  Have people in your life who  inspire you, love you, affirm you, encourage you, tell you how wonderful and beautiful you are, smile when you walk in a room, tell you the truth (in love), and are positive influences.  As for anyone and everyone else… hellwitem.
  4. Pay attention to your body.  If you are tired, take a nap.  If you are craving chocolate, have a candy bar.  If you listen and pay attention you will know/learn your body well enough to know the tell-tale signs that something is wrong.  And if/when something feels wrong/off, see about it.  I have a high tolerance for pain and am known for “bearing” discomfort.  I am learning that it is unwise to ignore the signals your body gives you that something is not quite right.  When your body speaks, listen!  And do something about it.
  5. Sometimes, though, symptoms of distress are asymptomatic (making them even more dangerous), so have a bi-annual or annual check-up.  If you do not have insurance take advantage of clinics, Planned Parenthood, and other agencies that are available to help you get screened, tested, and taken care of. Also, know your history.  While sometimes our family medical histories can be mysteries, it is important to know what to watch hereditary diseases or ailments you may be at risk for.  The leading causes of death for African Americans include heart disease, cancer, stroke, and diabetes.
  6. Do a regular inventory and purge anything toxic in your life.  The same way you clean out your refrigerator and/or pantry every few months, get rid of things that are expired in your life.  Not everything or everyone is meant to stay in your life forever:    This includes people, relationships, thoughts, habits, and hobbies.  Nothing and nobody should find a place in your life or headspace that is not purposefully and regularly adding to it.  Don’t keep things in your life that are old, outdated, spoiled or rancid.  Clean house!
  7. Let people go.  Especially those that don’t honor and respect you.  I believe that black women oftentimes put up with too much ish in their lives from people out of fear of rejection, abandonment and loneliness.  Don’t be afraid of being alone.  Never keep someone or something in your life out of desperation.  Be clear about your principles and standards (for friendships, networks, romantic relationships, etc.) and never settle.  If someone fails to treat you like the queen you are…On to the next one…
  8. Don’t be a people pleaser.  I personally think that post-30 should mean you don’t give a damn about what people think/say/believe about you.  Turning 30 was a turning point in my life (real talk, it was probably around 28) and when I stopped making decisions based on what I thought other people would think/say/believe about me I became more self-confident and free.  Living your life for yourself and not other people makes a world of difference.
  9. Have a confidante.  We should all have someone in our life we don’t have to “put on” for.  We need at least one person we can talk to about deep-seated and deeply personal issues without judgment, someone we can cry with/to/in front of; someone we can tell our secrets to; someone that will hug us and pat us on our back when we just need to wail.  This might be your best friend, partner, sister, or mother, but it might also be a professional counselor, mentor, or spiritual advisor.
  10. Celebrate yourself and your accomplishments even if/when you have to do it (by/for) yourself.  Don’t miss an opportunity to acknowledge all of what/who you are and where you come from.  Sometimes even the victories are significant and deserve acknowledgment.  Whether you finally completed a long-term project, got over a long-term relationship, or made it through a grueling week, celebrate!
  11. Take care of yourself mentally, physically and spiritually.  This means different things to different people.  For me it means (mentally): that at the end of a semester I do/read something that I don’t have to think/talk/write about (usually Cosmopolitan magazine).  I laugh, a lot.  I also cry.  (physically):  I try to make healthy choices (doesn’t always mean everyday…) I stopped drinking sodas and started juicing, I limit my intake of salt and sugar.  I have good intentions (that I don’t always meet) of getting some exercise in every week.  (spiritually):  I pray, I listen to inspirational music, I call my mama, I do yoga, I meditate on my life.  Figure out how to best take care of yourself.
  12. Kick it, regularly, with your homegirls.  This can be magic.
  13. Let people do things for you.  When someone offers to do something for you, let them!  Oftentimes, I think, we reject offerings of help and care because we are not used to it.  Get used to it!

Please share your strategies for survival and/or the names of black feminists who are gone too soon.  May we honor their lives and legacies by learning from them and about them.

The black feminists I name are Audre Lorde, June Jordan, Claudia Da Silva, Aaronette White…

Reblogging again because I need it.

(via woundedandpriceless)

mangoestho:

i’m re-reading my favorite books for this article i’m working on.

I felt cute today.
throughkaleidscopeeyes:

bae

I wanna feel magical.

other thang bout livin in the country is that when I get cute ain’t too many people around to see it.

but I’mma about to be fly anyways, even though it’s just dinner with the fam.

mangoestho:

WHERE MY MOUNTAIN/COUNTRY GIRLS AT THO? I WANT TO SEE Y’ALL. 

I ALSO KNOW ABOUT THAT SMALL TOWN 2 LIGHTS 1 DAIRY QUEEN AND THAT’S IT LIFE. LET ME SEE YOU!

Ayyyeee! Straight out them grassy hills and tobacco fields life in North Carolina!

rootsnbluesfestival:

Elizabeth Cotten

rootsnbluesfestival:

Elizabeth Cotten

(via mangoestho)

janetmock:

Truth Be Told is a series by Katina Parker that will profile black queer and trans visionaries, including Staceyann Chin, B. Slade, Dr. Kortney Ryan Ziegler, Patrik-Ian Polk, Mia McKenzie, Dr. Alexis Pauline Gumbs, Toshi Reagon, Emil Wilbekin, Darnell Moore, Linda Villarosa, Karamo Brown and Justin Robinson.

Help make this series happen by donating and sharing this fundraising campaign!

(via newwavefeminism)

“Those of us who stand outside of this society’s definition of acceptable women; those of us who have been forged in the crucibles of difference — those of us who are poor, who are lesbians, who are Black, who are older — know that survival is not an academic skill. It is learning how to stand alone, unpopular and sometimes reviled, and how to make common cause with those others identified as outside the structures in order to define and seek a world in which we can all flourish.”

—   

Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider

"Survival is not an academic skill."

"Survival is not an academic skill."

"Survival is not an academic skill."

(via knowledgeequalsblackpower)

(Source: youneedacat, via eat-pray-thug)

whos-afraid-of-postblack-art:

"As a black artist, the expectation of what you should be doing is always programmed for you regardless. There is a tendency to try to cubbyhole you that exists across the board in the art world… I’ve always done exactly what I wanted to do, regardless of what was out there. I just stuck to that principle and I’m a much happier person as a result. And I can’t imagine trying to satisfy any particular audience”
Lorna Simpson, Waterbearer, 1986
gelatin silver print, vinyl lettering

whos-afraid-of-postblack-art:

"As a black artist, the expectation of what you should be doing is always programmed for you regardless. There is a tendency to try to cubbyhole you that exists across the board in the art world… I’ve always done exactly what I wanted to do, regardless of what was out there. I just stuck to that principle and I’m a much happier person as a result. And I can’t imagine trying to satisfy any particular audience”

Lorna Simpson, Waterbearer, 1986

gelatin silver print, vinyl lettering

(via eat-pray-thug)

http://mangoestho.tumblr.com/post/92944506126/eat-pray-thug-mangoestho-eat-pray-thug-i

eat-pray-thug:

mangoestho:

eat-pray-thug:

i miss fried chicken with apricot glaze, persimmon pudding, succotash and fat biscuits

imma cook for you one day. we country girls need to connect b/c my grandmother makes something like this too!

yaaaaaas!!!! i never knew what she…

all of thissss! so glad to see other country gals out here who know about this life.

howtobeterrell:

cultureunseen:

Nobel Queen, Wise Mother and Elder Sister TONI MORRISON!

Born February 18, 1931 (83 years of wisdom)
Nobel Prize, Pulitzer Prize, Presidential Medal of Freedom and so much more…..

My mother tho

(via so-treu)