In celebration of April as National Poetry Month, I went
through the exercise of identifying and framing, for my desk, three quotes from
up and coming African descended women poets: Alexandra Elle, Upile Chisala and
Cleo Wade.
Claim it. All of it. Release what no longer serves you. Journey forward. Be unanswered. Be unapologetic. Love yourself anyway. Be you, love you. All ways, always.
Alexandra Elle
Here you are, Black and Woman and in love with yourself. You are terrifying. They are terrified (as they should be).
Upile Chisala
When you love yourself, you don’t even have to think about how to be yourself—it just happens.
Cleo Wade
I am drawn to these three quotes and decided to frame them
because they serve as fantastic daily reminders on how to be honest and kind to
yourself. I deeply feel the need to
surround myself with affirmations that say I am loved and worthy of love even
if the global society does not value the humanity of people who share similar
characteristics and experiences as me. This is part of my intentional process
of exercising self-compassion.
I also believe the millennial spirit of these three poets’
work reflect the fire, passion and diversity of perspective and experiences of
their generation—regardless of where they grew up– the U.S. or on the
continent of Africa. The stories they each tell and the words they use are
poignant, “in your face” direct and, at
the same time, are graceful and healing.
Their stories are nuanced in ways that particularly edifies the
experiences of women of color, particularly the African descended, in a
positive light—and that is what I appreciate the most. When their poems talk about love, I translate
their meanings to be:
Black love as self-love.
Audre Lorde once said, “self-love is about caring for
oneself; it should not be considered an act of self-indulgence, it
is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” Indeed,
her words are daring especially when the mainstream still relies on an
antebellum belief that African descendants “are a debased race unable to care
for themselves”—a claim famously purported by the notorious Dr. Sam Cartwright
in 1851 to justify the enslavement, oppression and subjugation of African
descendants in the Americas.
Publicly exclaiming, “yes, I am an African descended woman
and I matter!” is not only a proclamation that rejects hegemonic forces focused
on demonstrating otherwise, but also is just as radical of a statement to make
today as it was when Audre Lorde talked about self-care back in 1988!
Understanding the importance of self-care as part of Black
love, too, is critical when African descended women often experience
disproportionately higher rates of chronic health conditions, including heart
disease, breast and cervical cancers, and mental heath conditions, such as
depression, PTSD and stress from the “-isms” (i.e, racism,
sexism/heterosexism).
Regardless of social class, education level and geographic
location, African descended women do not consistently receive equitable and equivalent
treatment options by health care providers in comparison to their white patient
counterparts –according to Centers of Disease Control and Prevention and
researchers from the National Cancer Institute and the US Department of Health
and Human Services’ Office of Minority Health. Differences in medical treatment, including
for mental health, can significantly contribute to racial disparities in
outcomes for women of color. These outcomes, too, have endemic consequences on
families and communities as a whole since women of color are often perceived
and take on the role as the pillars.
Considering these realities, I feel it is imperative to take
action—to love oneself—otherwise, we will perish.
To talk about Black love and self-love in this way requires
a reframing of concepts “love, self and community.” For me, this means knowing
when to say “yes” to yourself and “no” to others and exercising that choice
without apprehension or guilt. It is
about defying expectations—even those your “skin-folk” may impose upon
you. It is about operating in ways that
enable you to “show up” in the world, take up space, be seen and celebrated. It
is also about building and strengthening community, and supporting wellness for
those who need it.
Strategies for celebrating Black love as self-love can vary from person to person. For some, it may include taking long walks, meditation, establishing a dedicated yoga practice or journaling in solitude; for others, it may include engaging in social activism and community wellness. For me, it also includes reading—bell hook’s All About Love, Nafissa Thompson-Spires’ Heads of Colored People, Camonghne Felix’s Build Yourself a Boat, or poems by James Baldwin, Ntozake Shange and Sonia Sanchez—recording Tuesdays Tea: A Podcast, and writing this blog.
At the end of the day, regardless of strategies and activities you choose to employ, the most important thing you can do for yourself is to carve out the time and space to love you. You deserve it.
In an upcoming episode of Tuesdays Tea: A Podcast, we
contend with this topic of Black love as self-love with guest Dr. Natasha
Gordon-Chipembere—book author and contributing writer for the Tico Times and other
media outlets such as Essence Magazine, professor, and founder of Tengo Sed
Writers Retreat in Costa Rica—and discuss the hurdles and personal strategies
for engaging in Black love as self love.
Tune in, ‘cause it’s all love, baby!