Current Mood: Rumble in the Jungle x Fugees, Tribe Called Quest, Busta
Critical Race Theory’s
Interest Convergence: Black people achieve civil rights victories only when White and Black interests converge (Bell, 1980)
“The curriculum cannot be time-sensitive” I wrote down in bold.
I have 3 more days to go before the stitches can come out. Photographing my sewn foot inspired me to sew a bit so I spent time making protesting toys yesterday.
My Manaba mamas guían. Pachamama shook me and literally debilitated me. Change is not metaphorical. We want a literal revolution. But I need to sit this one out, she said. Last week Pachamama sent early thunderstorms here and shook other parts of the continent with earthquakes. Wake the fuck up! dice ella.
Yall need to figure this shit out because I’m tired.
Tears are coming in waves of pain and joy. Hearing of Breonna Taylor was bizarre – is this real life? Seeing the video of “a beautiful spirit,” George Floyd’s last living moments was also incomprehensible – almost unreal. The popo did not care that they were being filmed. It was almost like Mỹ Lai Massacre photos of U.S. soldiers with bodies they mauled.
Christian Cooper’s story is not incredible. A Black man gets home unarmed after the fuzz is called? That’s unheard of. The whole idea of pigs came with the invention of slavery.
I haven’t slept for days.
Between the sorrow and utter confusion about what supports our thriving – we are barely surviving here – I paused and felt an overwhelming sense of a loving community. There are Black Lives Matter posts from people – some of my loved ones – who usually only post landscapes, food, concerts or friends/kids stuff. I’m judgey as hell, pushing everybody to jump in revolutionary fights – I don’t hide it – your kid stuff is cute; social media ain’t that for me. Still, those closest to me, listen very well and they are all holding me up. We are each other’s crutches. I have been studying thriving all wrong. The rest of mi gente are getting me fellowships, job opportunities and trying to figure out how to help me after this academy bs is done with.
I begin describing what is thriving with us, our narratives of ancestral love that explain how we are best nourished and nurtured but I trail off into books and articles written by Them. I must keep validating myself with their standards; what I know to be true must be witnessed by someone of official authority as bestowed onto themselves. We must be beyond this now. We must be building power in order to derrotar this ludicrous system in which one group of people make all the rules. Curiously, they do not have to follow their own rules. They decide when the rules get altered. We must fight beyond this.
But how do we do thriving? Like literal “beyond survival”?
A high school friend asked me last night if I “felt good that people are changing now; people are really waking up now,” she said.
Yes, it does feel good that more people are on board. And also it sucks that video evidence is what it took for some people to believe us. Now we gotta sit here and educate people on how to listen to us so that we can survive? We gotta keep waiting for yall to catch up to the struggle? Those tiny steps some people are taking are not halting the trigger-happy pigs. The 1% is not ceding power
But our seeding is showing some blossoming now just before summer…
PUKEN (tiempo de lluvias) época de la escasez, donde comienzan las lluvias y la tierra se retrae en un periodo de descanso obligado
WALÜNG (abundancia) época de cosechas, de frutos, de aves y animales
We are quite literal. My family makes sure our community is well-fed, housed and clothed. We find resources, take extra shifts, take collections, donations, groceries, distribute as needed – we are all about mutual aid. No one goes hungry in my community. We make sure everyone is able to experience joy even once a year on their birthday or our Año Viejo celebrations or someone’s wedding – we must celebrate our survival. Celebration – enacting joy is a crucial part of thriving.
We constantly thank our ancestors who paved this path for us. Time is not linear and we must relive certain times in order to keep seeding the future. Gratitude is part of thriving. We show gratitude by supporting us.
God’s act, stand back and watch
Devil’s time out
Can’t be timed with no swatch watch
But are we are better now?
What the fuck is thriving?
I see my community hurt more and more every day. My community members assimilate, convert, literally pay to disfigure their faces to be like Them and still are dehumanized, denigrated on tv, social\media, in schools all over the fuckin place.
After 1845 weeks in Pachamama, I say, “Fuck You!!!” And lemme teach you that there is stuff finally happening with exclamation marks.
3 years ago I wrote about a dating dilemma, Should I BLM on a First Date?, and I’m mostly proud of me. I don’t use a lot of those words anymore, or rather I have updated my language to be more precise.
I seen the Devil spar with Allah
Mathematics was the key to set my whole race free
You might debate we, a refugee
No harm hurt me
Dying, thirsty from the struggle
To my own hustle bubble
On the low, woe is me
I am a radical educator artivist scholar abolitionist sapiosexual pansexual gender fluid Manaba (Indigenous with African ancestry)
I write to exist.
I write if only to repeat in as many ways as I can learn in my life time
NEGRO RUNAKUNATA MUNAKUY!
LAS VIDAS NEGRAS IMPORATAN
BLACK LIVES MATTER
Blocks on fire
Fiends getting higher
Robbing blue collar
Killing for a dollar
See youths get tired
Dealing with them liars
From Brooklyn to Zaire
We need a ghetto Messiah