Family Tree

I am Zora’s daughter. She didn’t know it, but she took my soul with her as she gathered her stories. My ear remained rapt as she taught me dialect and put a piece of me within Janie. Auntie Alice taught me my burden. She showed me the contrasts of strong Black women versus those who are broken and let me know what they were doing to my sisters in Africa. Great-Aunt Maya showed me that the arch I carry in my back was not flawed, but “phenomenal” and gave me answers to life’s hard questions that roll off my tongue like honey and fly like sweet daggers into the hearts of those who oppress me. My cousin Sonia came up right behind her and put music in my womanly words that helped me to dance my way out of oblivion. Auntie Nikki gave me the chip on my shoulder that let me walk “with the thugs than the people who are complaining about them”. Uncle Bruce and Cousin Audre made me a femme fatale by letting me step into the center of the fight and see the rainbow in all its colors. I could better do this with tongue Uncle Amiri helped me sharpened when people set off bombs and placed the blame on others. He taught me the power of “poems that kill”. Cousin Langston let me run beside him and bask in the gleam of the river that is me and see the power of my dreams in its reflections. Uncle Jean taught me that no matter how bright that reflection, it was what my soul was sewn to that determined my identity. He helped me to discover that Lost Generation. Great-Uncles Paul and Claude’s souls smile down on me as I talk about MY America, find kindred spirits and belt out a poetic love song as an ode to us as “a smile go flittin' by”. Oh, but Great Aunt Gwendolyn showed me how to compose myself and bring back the bounce in my step while hiding the happiness deep within my heart. “We real cool” she said and gave me back my mystery. It is because my blood runs strongly this way that I do not hang my head, but raise it and puff out my chest. I strike fear in hearts one moment, but in the next, swaddle them like babes to my breast. They have given me the gift of the precious dichotomy of sweet mother and strict disciplinarian because they knew I was strong enough to bear it.  It is because of them that I can go from howling hooker to well-rounded wife through my words and still be respected in the morning. Our family tree stands strong in its field as the winds of change blow. We do not apologize for the sway of our branches, but acknowledge how bountiful the land is just because we are present. We let the earth write thank you notes that fall at our feet like bright leaves. The universe dances for us and we can change the song whenever we choose.

TK