Dear Black Women,
Black women, I am enchanted with the way that you cast your spells. If this is how Black Girl Magic feels, allow me to bask in your alchemy. Your wombs have birthed nations. Everyone that ever was and ever will be, begins with you. Your wisdom is unrivaled. From mathematics, astrology, medicine, poetry, you set the foundation. Black women, you are royalty; the seed of Nefertiti resides in your being. Black women your beauty is timeless, spanning time before time was time. You are often imitated but never duplicated. You cannot artificially replicate what was given to Black women from the heavens. Black women, you are not an accident or an afterthought. You were always the forethought of creation, a spiritual being that became an earthly goddess. Because you would be entrusted to birth humanity.
Black women, I love you for your cornbread and collard greens. Your fried chicken and black eyed peas. Your hey girl and high fives. I love you for your encouragement on late Saturday nights. I love you because with you I can just be me. With you, I am not expected to be anything else. There are no unrealistic expectations here. I can sit with you and unbraid my hair. I love because you scratched out my head when I was ailin’. When I was low, you sang to me Ms. Celie’s blues.
With you I can be authentically me. I love you because with you I can breathe. You give me the power and strength to exhale. You stand by me and hold my hand even when I am walking through hell. You were my Underground Railroad and my Sweet Chariot.
Black women, I love you for allowing me the space to dance and to sing. You show me love and how to love. You give me the strength to keep going when I want to quit. I love you for your sweet potatoes and buttermilk biscuits. I love you for your sun-brewed sweet tea and ice cold lemonade. I love you for lazy days spent getting my hair in braids. I love you for your grandma’s macaroni and cheese. I love you for remembering all our stolen recipes. I love you for your wisdom and your laughter. I love you for the look and the nod of acknowledgment. For recognizing that I exist. That we exist in this world together.
Black women, I see you.
Black women, I love you for everything that you are. Everything that you had to overcome. I love you for being my home when I didn’t have a home. I love you for praying for me. For standing in the gap. For showing me the way. For being the epitome of what I aspire to be. From Harriet to Phillis to Fannie to Betty to Coretta to Maya, I love you for making the road I trod a little easier to navigate; for making the load I carry, a little bit lighter in weight. For entrusting me to carry the baton. For instilling in me the wisdom to know when to pass the baton on to the next generation of young, Black women that will carry the flame of justice. I love you, Black women, for holding me up; for allowing me to place my footprints on your shoulders and stretch my hands into the universe. I love you for allowing me to dream the impossible. I love you for giving me a moment in time to stand among Black women that have used their lives to change the trajectory of the world.
Black women, you are everything to me.
I love you for being you and for everything that you have allowed me to become.
Love,
Hannah
Categories: Thoughts, Musings and Reflections