“Our bodies are the texts that carry the memories and therefore remembering is no less than reincarnation.”
—Rev. Dr. Katie Cannon, Womanist theologian
Wherever I go, I bring my ancestors with me. There was a time when I was disconnected from this sense of being. I’ve lost the memory of my grandmother’s face—though I know that her love in the first four years of my life sustains me still. She has always been with me in how I love. But she’s with me when I look into mirrors as well, because I look like I’m directly her child. I look nothing like my mother and her mother.
My father told me once that his mother admonished him to never go down South. Her words were protection, meant to protect future generations. However, just like salmon swim upstream to spawn, I had to return to visit friends and to learn and honor the pathways from which I have come.
Elizabeth was born in Brevard, North Carolina. Her high school was one of the Rosenwald schools that educated Black people after Reconstruction. Even today, our family values education; my father told me it’s the only thing that can not be taken away from a person once they have it.
I lack shame about my grandmother’s brown skin, her wide smile, or her education. The conditions from which Rosenwald Schools were formulated in the South bear no shame upon me either. Yet the knowledge is held by my body.
Salmon swimming upstream probably do not have this problem. They travel the paths of those who came before. The Way is encoded in their bodies. I experience this numinosity: I wander into Mystery of wholeness and oneness. I am the “we” of the narratives I still do not know about my ancestors.
I imagine that Elizabeth left North Carolina for a safer, more self-actualized life in Ohio. I went South for that too, but it was also for authenticity and inner felt worthiness of belonging. I needed to be in the waters that my grandmother swam in. I need it now. There is so much more to me. I know it when I read, when I write, speak, and especially when I sing. My ancestors take hold of me. It is no small thing. I need them and they are with me and we need to be free.
Prayer
Let the Mystery in becoming realigned with our ancestors, known and unknown, give vitality and purpose to our Being. Remind us of the scriptures written in our bodies and faces. Let the wisdom of honoring this Love tell stories of strength and endurance for the journey.
Amen Ase Blessed Be