i did something really southern this weekend. i made my front porch into a little oasis. a little site of delight right outside my door. i’ve already been out here for an hour today. i really understand why the front porch has been such a venerated place in Black households, particularly in the southern. it’s nice to go outdoors. it’s nice to wave at neighbors. it’s nice to see what’s going on around the block. it’s nice to bring a glass of wine out here. or, coffee.
or, both. this is my case today because i couldn’t decide which one i wanted. but, my porch is all about leisure on my own terms, so i brought both.
today, my new sabbath has consisted of making a lovely cup of El Salvador from Onyx Coffee Lab. it was gifted to me by my coffee bestie, Erica. as i sipped, i finished writing about some ideas on lineage and inheritance that i will share with some faculty colleagues this week. at this time, i’m really just formulating the questions and selecting resources for further exploration. i know that i will begin with the second episode of High on the Hog and Dr. Emilie Townes’ iconic essay, “Womanist Theology.” i don’t know where i hope to end up, but i know that my methodologies will be ethnographic and experiential. my preferred ways to learn and research.
this week, i was really moved by something that emerged in the world of professional tennis. Naomi Osaka withdrew from the French Open to protect her mental health. i was really touched by her strength and courage. at first, all i could do was think about how i could’ve never done that at 23 years of age. at that time in my life, i was too committed to pre-determined paths and purposes to be so self-aware and assertive. i don’t know that i could have done something so empowering and decisive. yet, i think this is how things should progress: the youth should do things that surprise and amaze us. by grace, we would have planted a seed or said a Word that caused a shift in the world, even if it was so incremental that we could barely perceive it. in so doing, the hope is that we would have created a world in which Black girls and young women could make the kinds of audacious decisions that we couldn’t have made “when we were their age.” this is the sacred hope: that our faith, and our works, have made it possible for Black girls to rise and to flourish in ways that we could have only dreamed of.
i’m currently writing on why we should “normalize” Black women quitting when we find ourselves reckoning with death-dealing circumstances. i’ll send it to you when i complete it this week.
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on this past Wednesday, i met with the WISDOM Center Thriving in Ministry advisory committee. they’re helping us to think through some programmatic and ethos changes in our current grant programs. one of our advisors is an ethnomusicologist with an interest in gastronomy. as we worked through concepts of ministry, and how these have taken space in otherwise spaces in our lives, such as kitchens, she shared this amazing poem by Nikki Giovanni. the poem got me to wondering about food traditions and how they get passed down. how we remember them. what are your food traditions? favorite family recipes? beloved food memories? i’d love to hear from you. 🙏🏾
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i saw the first iteration of the the Black Girl Black Coffee online storefront this week. i also saw our first bag of coffee, a beautiful Burundi Kalico that was produced by a powerful woman named Angele Cize. the tasting notes are bright and citrusy. so, i named the first BGBC offering, “Be The Light.” i imagine that it will be consumed in the morning. just after prayer and meditation. just before making magic happen all day long. God and i are up to something wonderful, and i can’t wait to share it.
have a wonderful week, friends.
may the Spirit of Love be with you, around you, and within you all week.
may your every step be established by Grace.
may angels guard your heart and your home.
be well and stay safe.