on the edge of everything with a smile and a dance the never ending menagerie parading, masquerading forgive me for choosing this time to reveal these glimpses of my imagination i couldn't resist the temptation to dream
if i was an activist
or a mother
ass seated firmly upon comfy couch
one leg over the other in yoga stretch
to release tense muscles
mind winding to mind ahead
unnecessary sneezes and squeezes
and a pliant sighs
i might fall back in the wildflowers
to patiently wait for the banquet
who sleeps with her little nose
buried under a pillow
curled up in a tight little ball
who wags her bum in my face
every time i
come through the door
who thinks she rules the universe
who snorts and begs and then snorts again
and smells like the river where she runs
my conscience and my heart
keep humanity safe today
horizon looming, bold catching reflections of moments past reaching towards invisible stars and constellations of ancient memories comfortably seated at the table of life constant, regardless irreverent beauty discourse of the unknown she awakens
a black woman, a janitor in a school
Monday to Friday
a housekeeper in a massive hotel every weekend
working 7 days a week
to feed her children
who still knows how to smile, to dance, to sing
I met a new goddess warrior today
and together we are going to change the world
I am inspired by reading this painful and telling story....I'm a white girl with loads of privilege who happened to get a glimpse of the real world when I entered the world of social work. I emerged from the cocoon, a pretty butterfly in an ugly, ugly world. I actually remember the exact moment that I became aware that I was not like 'everyone else'. I remember discovering that I was to blame for the suffering in the world. I first discovered the little people 'in africa'.....that far away 'country'....we sent them money and had their pictures pasted on our fridge, so that every time I grabbed a glass of whatever I wanted, I would think of them. good old Christian charity.
my first days working in the grouphome, I was shocked by what I saw. kids, just years younger than me, abused by a system that perpetrated the very abuse they had been subject to in their home. these kids, full of life and love and energy and desire, dumped on a doorstep by caring adults who didn't know any better.
I still talk to some of those kids. brave warriors of life. and I carried their stories into the reservations. I am still sorry that when I tried to make sure that those kids stayed with their parents that it wasn't meant to be. I still sit with their mom on the corner of dundas and Richmond and just say 'fuck a duck' as we both sink into our vices. I am sad and I am sorry and I hope that what I have learned will manifest in the hearts of my children so this history will never be repeated.
i had a dream. not a mlk dream but a dream. my mother was there and she told me to keep going. in life, my mother never said these words. she was always afraid of what i might do or where i might go. she was always afraid. i made her very sad, angry and worried. i broke every single one of her rules. every single one and then a few she hadn't thought up yet. and she loved me through all of it. and in this dream, she told me to keep going. keep going. keep going. keep going. and i will believe in my mom in her death, like i never believed in her life.
it all began when kathy tew insisted on bringing it home we were in grade 6 and pets in classes were still cool
unless you took the bus the city bus.... we managed to avoid scrutiny on the first bus the little rodent napped his way on
but the second bus the fateful second bus... REFUSED ENTRY ENTRY DENIED little dude (forgive me, i forget his name) or even if it was a 'he' i digress...little dude was safely locked in his cage complete with wheel (still want to try one of those things) and was a threat to no one shampoo bottles on a plane are a much greater threat who knows what could happen with those suds ah, i digress again...
so we had to take a ride home with a stranger... a nice stranger, a bank manager...the people in the banks are all nice dammit i digressed again!
i shit bricks when he dropped kathy tew off first now it was just me and the hamster and a nice bank manager ...............and he dropped me off at home, safe and sound with the hamster
i thank that nice bank manager man for making me feel safe and for simply offering a nice gesture to two stranded girls and a hamster i wish i knew his name the bank is gone now in it's place, an arts store
i am blessed with a safe and happy life blessed many women have trusted like i have, and have not arrived home safely many women suffer childhood scars that may never be healed many women cry even though they smile at their children every day many women feel broken
many women are the voice of our future many women, holding hands
i still remember that day like it was yesterday i remember calling kathy tew to let her know i was home safe i remember the relief in her voice i remember that she was my sister i remember that she was there for me and that we were in this together
i will also remember all of the missing and murdered indigenous women in Canada, home of colonizing racist settlers i will remember residential schools and poverty and abuse i will remember every single policy that shamed and blamed and i will remember steven harper's legacy of international crime
and then i will dance with the moon and the wildflowers in epiphany as we blast off the facade firefighter regulation hoses required and i will be at the front of the team who holds one tightly and oozing with love