It’s a Marathon not a Sprint

My moods are tribute to the great Zora Neale Hurston.
The swings are swift and constant.

This February seemed extra long. Or maybe it was just this week. The highs were giddy. But the lows were crushing.
I had the amazing fortune to work with one of my best friends. What a thrill to step on set where your sister-friend is directing and calling the shots. The #blackgirljoy was real and we made a little #blackgirlmagic.
And then came the anniversary of Ahmaud Arber‘s murder. This week would also have been the 25th birthday of Elijah McClain. My heart breaks for the mothers.
How… ?
The questions start and hang unfinished. What would the answers reveal? Black mothers have endured the loss of their children since the beginning of America. The history of trauma and survival is encoded in our DNA, but that’s another post.

The month was densely packed with love and pride in Black history. My social media feeds overflowed with images, historical and current of Black folks doing the ordinary and extraordinary. We’ve been excised from the narrative for so long I grew accustomed to learning about our achievements as singular firsts. A simple image of a middle class family portrait in 1885 sent my imagination reeling. Our stories are so much more than trauma. Black history is rich in details rarely seen in media representation or public school curriculums. On one scroll I learned there was a Colored Hockey League at the start of the last century. Organized by Black Baptists in 1895 the CHL of the Canadian Maritimes functioned until 1911. It was resurrected five years later but ultimately disbanded by 1930. I have zero affinity for hockey but the trivia was profound.
In other news, the incomplete history of Billy Holiday has been updated by Lee Daniels. It isn’t a biopic, more like an addendum to Lady Sings the Blues, whose Oscar nomination for best screenplay made Suzanne de Passe the first Black woman to achieve that. The United States vs Billie Holiday highlights the singer’s struggles in tandem with government persecution. Andra Day is a revelation. Be prepared for many mood swings.
Another high this month was seeing a creative project proceed to the next step. It’s another collaboration with a sister-friend and I’m exhilarated by the richness of my community.
February ends in a few days but there’s so much more to celebrate, and no doubt mourn. Black History month is set up as a sprint. But the legacy of the African diaspora is a marathon. Perseverance is in my DNA.
I will keep going. I’ve trained for this marathon of moods.
There are more stories to tell and more firsts to discover. Lesgo!