In 2012, I began researching our family history. Collecting stories, pictures, and names from my aunts, uncles, and elders in an attempt to preserve our legacy here in America and with luck forge a connection to our homeland on the continent. Seven years later, I have the beginnings of our branches on the American continent and so many more unanswered questions, but my heart and soul are full.
African- Americans know well the daunting task of gathering the pieces of a broken lineage marred by cultural erasure, chattel genocide, and distance. Many names, birth dates, and memories are but a dimmed shadow of the brilliant reality of our histories. Nevertheless, we persist, and where we meet a roadblock we stretch out our souls in adopted connection to the countries, places, and communities that we feel a "calling" to. Knowing that while it may not be our exact tribe, it is however tied more closely to the rhythm in our step, the poetry of our dialect and "proverbs", and the beauty of our remastered yet unnamed traditions.
We are a tribe of our own scattered among the ports of the diaspora, diverse in our variations of the old traditions, language, and customs; resilient in the muscle memory of our cultural values.
Join me as I highlight the roots of our expansive family tree through art, and forge new varietals by exalting the community consciousness we have forged through fire, creativity, and ingenuity. No matter where you are on your journey to self, my hope is that this space brings joy and steeps curiosity. May this art fill your "cup" and feed your soul with the knowledge that we are home where ever we are, because we are home within ourselves. Be full that you may fill others. Ase' The ladle cannot serve anything, if the pot is empty- African Proverb
You can't pour from an empty cup- African-American Proverb
