i ran to your voice

unconcerned as my hair felt wind

i exhaled the dis(ease) of coloniality

as you reminded me

we arise as one

cuz the language of love is our native tongue

words found me, worlds transformed

i meditated to Nina,

inhaling and exhaling

resisting, recommitting

transitioning, translocating

nina’s voice connecting me

‘you know how i feel’

its a new dawn.

i found my footing


i have been struggling to find the right words to discuss my thoughts on Ferguson, last week someone told me that i looked “serenely pissed off“. we were at a vigil for Mike Brown, and it that moment i was serenely pissed off. i was grounded and present in my anger, i was pissed off that we were yet again, holding public space, being outraged at a system that uses all of its force to kill, exploit and dehumanize bodies. i was serenely pissed off, as people self-aggrandized, tied personhood to institutional authority, and used organizational power to contour narrative in public space. i was serenely pissed off that at the same time as the vigil there was a protest against Israel in the same city, how are causes (of suffering) and costs (of lives) so segmented in people’s minds? what happened to the beloved comm(unity)?

i am serenely pissed off that coloniality is vicious and lazy, that it can rely on ‘divide and rule’ tactics same as it ever has. i am serenely pissed off as i read, watch, and listen to lessons from our past just to see us in the same position as before. there is a set change, but the characters remain the same. the characters of coloniality are the racialized hierarchies imposed on bodies, militarized and carceral networks, categories of exclusion that convey who deserves violence and whose bodies are worth more. i am serenely pissed off that i sit in front of a computer screen, and wonder where i am and why i am here? Audre’s Litany for Survival has been on loop in my mind since last week,


For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
like bread in our children’s mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother’s milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
we were never meant to survive

“Audre told me we were not meant to survive”

i realize that my skill set in this struggle is to be a foot solider, my reality is in the mundane. i am good at making meals, being a safe person to leave your child with, setting up and breaking down tables and chairs in meeting spaces, manual labor, etc. i have been meditating on traveling to Ferguson, the distance between the city i reside in and there is small, in both miles and lived realities. as a foot solider, i travel well, i am willing to take directives from the comm(unity) i found myself in, and i can operate for many days on very little sleep. i am willing to be on the streets when the comm(unity) needs rest and refuge, so i am thinking through how best to get there, and how to be most effective.

while i am here and not there, the same thing applies, willing to be a foot solider for the cause, i know that many people have expressed a desire to organize here and tap into the collective outrage so many people are feeling right now. if you need someone doing the mundane, handing out flyers, making food, door knocking, etc.

i would like to see us connect this with comm(unity) teaching and educating, allowing people’s experiential knowledge of police violence in this city mediate conversation. i would like us to have open communication about how we as a comm(unity) stay safe, i want to allow our youth the space to tell their stories in their own voices, we need spaces to hold power accountable and heal our collective trauma.




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