...remember Haiti As I lay me down to sleep...I'm reminded of what a luxury that is. Millions of black people will lie on the ground to sleep tonight. They'll sleep on boxes, they'll sleep on broken cement, they'll sleep on mud and many won't sleep at all. They'll stay up to watch over their children, their parents, their husbands, their daughters, their wives their sons - those whose blood lines outlasted the Middle Passage, Slavery, THEE Revolution, world isolation, failed government after failed government, Duvalier, the American Occupation, 2010 and...Hurricane Matthew. They'll watch over the few possessions they managed to save before nature, for all intents and purposes, betrayed them...yet again. They'll pray to the Saints of the Christians and to the Ancestors of Dahomey and Benin and they'll cry out like the Christ they pray to asking why have they been forsaken...yet again? What else do they have left to sacrifice for Salvation, for reprieve other than the very blood that barely suffices to sustain them? The skin that clings on to protect them? Their life? Is that what He wants? That is the hypernormalized world we allow ourselves to live in; one where sleep is a luxury y'all, can you believe that? You are literally privileged to be able sleep! Sleep is a fucking luxury. But be still. Because to know Haiti is to know pride and determination. To know Haiti, is to know hope. The nation, the people that fought until waters ran red with the blood of our oppressors, will rise again. One day, Pearl of the Antilles will shine once again; shine so bright it reminds the entire diaspora of who we are, but this time our pearls belong to us. L'Union Fait La Force
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AuthorLife is a stage, our experiences are the plays. But before we can put the plays on stage they must be scripted. Here are my scripts. Archives
June 2019
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