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Beautiful Black Faceless Son of mine

Tree of Life

Beautiful Sunset

Or maybe just a colorful sky

But the colors bleed into the ground

Not many leaves on this tree, but strong roots

But these roots are above ground exposed to the world

Which means they are not safe from outside forces I cannot control

Not many limbs on these trees

Not much external support

But am I even willing or trusting enough to accept it when and if it is offered?

The whole in this trunk of the tree is an eye

So much vision

Not always good

To the past

To the present

To the future

To the abyss of possibilities of what ifs and what still can be

No face but every face

No one cares about all that makes up his ethnicity

The intersectionality of all that make up his identities

Because all they see is Black

No one cares

Because he fits the description

And that’s all that matters

How can I go back to this moment of looking at a beautiful Gullah painting

When my heart is painted with nothing but worry, anxiety, stress

About this Beautiful Black Faceless Son of mine

So much to say about my first Black Writers Retreat! From San Francisco, to Dallas, TX, to Charlotte, NC, to Charleston, SC, to Hilton Head, SC, to the Sonesta Resort, to meeting the incomparable Emory Campbell, and learning more than I could have ever imagined about the Gullah Geechee Culture in only a two-hour tour, to be able to finally fellowship in person with these incredible people I can only describe as through the feeling you get when you know you are in the presence of greatness: all the embodiment of living Black History! Tina, Tamra, Zakiyah, Matthew, Adrienne, Dragon…phenomenal doesn’t seem to capture the way I would describe each and every one of you! I am trying to fight the imposter syndrome as I type what it was like to spend these few days in your presence. Life-changing is the typical response. Life-impacting is what I choose instead! For change may be temporary, but impact lasts a lifetime! I will be purposeful in my vow to fully chronicle this journey. The grief, mourning, the healing, the self-discovery, the inspiration, the Selah moments…

I know my work bestie of seventeen-years Gena Stewart was smiling down as she experienced this journey right along with me. She was so excited for me to go and come back to tell her all about it when I told her that I planned this trip months ago. God knew I would need this journey as I continue to learn how to navigate this life without my bestie who I lost suddenly just a few weeks ago. I will miss reflecting with my girl with these and other pivotal moments in my life. But I know as an adamant advocate and teacher of all things Black History, she would want me to share all that I learned with our students and whoever else has a desire to learn. I honor Gena today, my fellow writers on this retreat, “Uncle” Emory (as my sis Tina rightfully named him), and the past, present, and future members and preservers of this beautiful Gullah Geechee Culture. More to come.