Reframing Blackness as a Realm and a Gift
I can still hear Marvin and Tammy Terrell's duet in my head from that nostalgic night, years ago, when I reminisced about Arvid's closed eyes, broken melodies filled with gray and witness on the guitar strings. As I listened to "A True Artist," I felt a mix of emotion and inspiration. The memory lingered, and their voices united to tell tales of humanity's joys, sorrows, and sanctities.
It occurred to me that life often imitates art. Just as Marvin's body moved with Tammy's during their performance, Arvid's vocals echoed his faith in transformation—not destruction—of himself and others. I couldn't help but think about the strength of Black existence as a whole, and how discussions about Black Lives, Arts, and History so frequently miss the mark.
Let it be known: Black history extends beyond the question of how to remember and understand Black people. We must ask ourselves: How can we see, hear, and create a space that empowers Black people to feel seen, inspired, and protected?
The Impermanence of Perceptions
The legacy of Black people cannot be tied to the salvation or downfall of America or white people. Our story is personal, shaped by resilience and experience amidst a world described by Baldwin as "loveless." Black books, creativity, and freedom continue to be banned, while the exploitation of Black talents persists. It's crucial to remember who we are and why we tell our stories.
The perception of Blackness ranges from curse and sin, as whites see it, to world and gift as we redefine it. Our collective strength, as Dante Stewart reminds us, emerges not from perfection or extraordinary achievements but in our essential existence.
Grieving Our Losses, Celebrating Our Lives
Loss can be a powerful force in shaping our lives. The passing of my great-grandfather Jonny Rubin Albert hit me hard. His spirit lingered in my memories of his profound Socratic quotes and Martin Luther King Jr. anecdotes. I found solace in Hanif Abdurraqib's words about the sacredness of imperfect Black dance, reminding me that my feelings of loss could be transformed into appreciation for the life we've been given.
As I reflect on the lives of Black individuals, I am reminded of their complexities and the depth of their stories, which so often go unrecognized. Loudness offers us a voice, and honesty in discussing our pain, trauma, and beauty reveals the intricate complexity of everyday Black existence.
Dreaming Beyond Limitations
In 1974, Toni Morrison wrote, "We kneel not on bended knees or hanging from a tree, but on our own terms—dreaming, creating, and telling our stories." Our dreams are not bound by others' perception or blindness. We have the power to make it happen, just as Marvin and Tammy danced in unity on that stage.
It's Not About White People
The truth of Black lives is ours to experience and share—not to serve as lessons for white people. Our existence is too complex, too multifaceted, and too beautiful to be boiled down to platitudes about teaching tolerance or embracing diversity.
And so, as we remember and celebrate our histories, we do not seek to save America or white people from themselves. Rather, we strive to empower ourselves and our communities, creating a world where Blackness is celebrated as a universe full of its own beauty, resilience, and wisdom.
