I came to terms with my rage last year for the first time in a long time, and was swept up by how much heart space it took inside of me. It made me sad to know my anger longed for a place to express itself and I was too shameful to create it. While there are degrees that all of us have in understanding anger as an emotion as well as a spirit that has something to say, Black women’s rage is constant, because there is a hierarchy of “No!” that was planted the moment we grew conscious enough to speak. We are forcibly rejected from expression, even as children. We struggle and tip toe and contort and hardly know what it means to feel whole enough to trust everything life asks us to consider. I’ve been on a journey of crafting my life intentionally to find wholeness in the spirits within me that need my vessel and chose me to be the one to act. To question. To dream.
I love all of this! 💖 What I most resonate with as a woman living in a patriarchal society is the internal struggle of knowing when to be quiet and when to be loud.
I hate it when I hear people say, "They never said anything. They never complained. They never filed a report with HR." Really?! Do you have eyes? Do you have ears? Do you have a conscience? Can't you see this person is being mistreated? Why do they have to do the emotional labor of pointing it out to you? And when they do speak up, will they be gaslit, patronized, victim-blamed? The answer is: Yes, they will. It's just all so infuriating to me! 😤
Wowowow. Before I came across this piece, I sat on the subway en route to visit my parents, writing notes in my phone about rage - specifically the rage of working to free yourself only to be confronted with the inevitabilities of constraint. For me the constraints are family and patriarchy, and the expected silent suffering you wrote of. My spirituality and faith have been the greatest catalysts for my freedom and growing voice, and thus the greatest inspiration for my budding poetry journey. But I get self conscious sharing bc what a contradiction lol. Your feeling too spiritual for the poetry crowd and too poetic for the theology crowd resonated. Finally, I love what you said about softness being eclipsing vocations. I’ve come to understand rest as a vocation - after all, caregiving, even if for ourselves, is a practice/craft/labor. Thanks for writing this, I look forward to spending more time with it.
I always look forward to your writing, Rose. I started writing poetry again lately and I am a part of "In Surreal Life" (https://www.officialshira.com/insurreallife) during April. So far it has been very inspiring. I often feel the division of ocuppying religious spaces and feeling like I don't completely belong and vice-versa. It reminds me of what Naomi Ortiz writes in her book "Sustaining Spirit" about living in many worlds at the same time. Hopefully I am making sense.
Rose, thank you for writing and sharing this. I especially appreciate you discussing rage, how you came to terms with it and how others have managed it as well. This was beautiful!
Rose, this piece has been such a wonderful introduction to your writing. Thank you so much for taking your time with it and sharing it with us. I often find myself reaching in multiple direction to dip my fingers into whatever brings me joy. It is so difficult to rein myself in because I WANT to be a part of it all. I want to stay curious and allow myself that freedom. And now, I am understanding more and more how rest needs to be part of who I am. Rest as a form a reverence to myself, my ancestors, my community. Because without it, there's not room for me.
Also really loved hearing you in conversation with Lucille. I see her spirit in your work so clearly. To have her in your writing lineage is so special.
There are just so many lines I want to highlight, circle, underscore. You're telling my secrets and in hearing them through your words, I am healed. Thank you for this generosity of un-doing aloneness.
Yes!!! Please write about cowboy Carter and Lucille Clifton. I told you I met her daughter at a conference, yes? And I love the like from the first poem you shared, building something human.
Eclipsing vocations! Thank for for this and for your vulnerability. I write about generalism in work and I would love to explore rest as a vocation itself and even the inherent layers of living a multi-faceted life.
I came to terms with my rage last year for the first time in a long time, and was swept up by how much heart space it took inside of me. It made me sad to know my anger longed for a place to express itself and I was too shameful to create it. While there are degrees that all of us have in understanding anger as an emotion as well as a spirit that has something to say, Black women’s rage is constant, because there is a hierarchy of “No!” that was planted the moment we grew conscious enough to speak. We are forcibly rejected from expression, even as children. We struggle and tip toe and contort and hardly know what it means to feel whole enough to trust everything life asks us to consider. I’ve been on a journey of crafting my life intentionally to find wholeness in the spirits within me that need my vessel and chose me to be the one to act. To question. To dream.
Loved this entire letter, sister.
I love all of this! 💖 What I most resonate with as a woman living in a patriarchal society is the internal struggle of knowing when to be quiet and when to be loud.
I hate it when I hear people say, "They never said anything. They never complained. They never filed a report with HR." Really?! Do you have eyes? Do you have ears? Do you have a conscience? Can't you see this person is being mistreated? Why do they have to do the emotional labor of pointing it out to you? And when they do speak up, will they be gaslit, patronized, victim-blamed? The answer is: Yes, they will. It's just all so infuriating to me! 😤
Wowowow. Before I came across this piece, I sat on the subway en route to visit my parents, writing notes in my phone about rage - specifically the rage of working to free yourself only to be confronted with the inevitabilities of constraint. For me the constraints are family and patriarchy, and the expected silent suffering you wrote of. My spirituality and faith have been the greatest catalysts for my freedom and growing voice, and thus the greatest inspiration for my budding poetry journey. But I get self conscious sharing bc what a contradiction lol. Your feeling too spiritual for the poetry crowd and too poetic for the theology crowd resonated. Finally, I love what you said about softness being eclipsing vocations. I’ve come to understand rest as a vocation - after all, caregiving, even if for ourselves, is a practice/craft/labor. Thanks for writing this, I look forward to spending more time with it.
So well crafted! I really enjoyed reading this. I felt like you wrote this from my head because I relate so much.
I always look forward to your writing, Rose. I started writing poetry again lately and I am a part of "In Surreal Life" (https://www.officialshira.com/insurreallife) during April. So far it has been very inspiring. I often feel the division of ocuppying religious spaces and feeling like I don't completely belong and vice-versa. It reminds me of what Naomi Ortiz writes in her book "Sustaining Spirit" about living in many worlds at the same time. Hopefully I am making sense.
Rose, thank you for writing and sharing this. I especially appreciate you discussing rage, how you came to terms with it and how others have managed it as well. This was beautiful!
Rose, this piece has been such a wonderful introduction to your writing. Thank you so much for taking your time with it and sharing it with us. I often find myself reaching in multiple direction to dip my fingers into whatever brings me joy. It is so difficult to rein myself in because I WANT to be a part of it all. I want to stay curious and allow myself that freedom. And now, I am understanding more and more how rest needs to be part of who I am. Rest as a form a reverence to myself, my ancestors, my community. Because without it, there's not room for me.
Also really loved hearing you in conversation with Lucille. I see her spirit in your work so clearly. To have her in your writing lineage is so special.
There are just so many lines I want to highlight, circle, underscore. You're telling my secrets and in hearing them through your words, I am healed. Thank you for this generosity of un-doing aloneness.
Yes!!! Please write about cowboy Carter and Lucille Clifton. I told you I met her daughter at a conference, yes? And I love the like from the first poem you shared, building something human.
Eclipsing vocations! Thank for for this and for your vulnerability. I write about generalism in work and I would love to explore rest as a vocation itself and even the inherent layers of living a multi-faceted life.