from Dance Black Joy: Global Affirmations and Defiance
In February, I had the pleasure of attending the third convening organized by the Collegium for African and Diaspora Dance. As my dear sista-friend Candace Thompson observed, these bi-annual conferences are such a powerful moment to check in with ourselves, our people, and the many communities we’re connected to. Alongside my SLMDances family, I co-facilitated two conversations, drove around Durham admiring the trees, fellowshipped over delicious food, shook a tailfeather, and filled my cup with all the magic of the spaces between.
The found poem is a form that knows few bounds. These are the words that found me – in the halls and streets of Duke University; over biscuits and wine and sweet tea; in my dreams when 9am sessions were just a lil too much; in the one hotel-bar-gallery that was open when the city of Durham went to sleep; in the breath, eyes, heart, memories of community. I am still full.
Has it ever been this bad? Yea… There’s was the 60s.
And we made it through
I can’t stop crying
Living our lives in a way that is respectful and ethical and meaningful and spiritual
This inherent spirituality of dancing our dances
We’re patting ourselves on the black
An audience full of Black people
I am not dependent on other people to write about and analyze my work
I’m tired… That is the work, Wakanda forever
I start my mornings Black
This is only possible because of the legacy I am in. . .
