preserve black alabama

 I was minding my own black ass business enjoying the day that the lord hath made. It was a glorious one too. The words rang out.  “Ugly nigger woman!” Stunned, I looked up. He looked me in my eyes, reloaded, and fired again. “You’re an ugly nigger woman!” 

I was hit.

The words.. those hateful words…

It was I, for whom the bell tolled. 

Those words.

Those lead filled words…painted red with blood of black bodies…pierced my body too. 

I understood. Centuries of racism and sexism condensed into a split second interaction with a white male hobo, who even in his probable psychosis, clung to hate.  When the ability to feel returned to my body, it hurt. It hurt for me. It hurt for my parents. It hurt for my grandparents. It hurt for everyone who lives in America’s margins where the worst of the worst, is reserved for us. 

It hurt for Josephine Bolling McCall whose father was killed in Lowndes County, Alabama for being a successful businessman. I stand in awe of her and her strength to continually return to her father’s death site again and again.  Although he was murdered, she breathes life into his name and his legacy. He IS Elmore Bolling.

Feelings precede thoughts. Thoughts precede words. Words precede action.  The festering hatred harbored in that man and this country, kills.

 One of my historian heroes, Deborah Gray White, said the most precarious place to occupy is that of the black woman because “if she she escapes the myth of the negro, she is ensnared by the myth of the woman.” Not only was I a “nigger,” I had the gaull to also be a woman. How dare I…

There’s so much more to say, but I’ll end here for now. 

Today I sit and breathe life into myself and all beings past and present, particularly those who look like me. Preserve Black Alabama is not only about the physical places and various forms of history, but also the preservation of black people. That includes me.

I’ve been on a social media hiatus. Yesterday was confirmation that I am doing the right thing by stepping back and preserving myself. I may be down, but I am never out.  Like the phoenix and Maya Angelou, I too shall rise again. For now, I rest in the garden of my foremothers. Radically, of course…

If you are reading this, may you rest radically too.

Jada