Rocking Chair: In My SpiritHouse

About a month or so ago, I attended a birthday fundraiser event.  The birthday was for two dear friends of ours.  Instead of a traditional party, they decided to fundraise for a local non-profit organization called SpiritHouse.  SpiritHouse, as their website states, is "a Durham, North Carolina based cultural arts and organizing organization, [that] has worked with low-wealth families and community members to uncover and uproot the systemic barriers that prevent us from gaining the resources, leverage and capacity for long-term self-sufficiency."  The director, commonly known as Mama Nia, is a phenomenal woman, and she works with other phenomenal women who have encouraged and inspired me.

At this particular event, the SpiritHouse team led an exercise where they required all of us attendees to close our eyes and go to a space where we felt safe.  What did it look like?  Feel like?  Sound like? This exercise was so moving for me, for one, because of how I saw my place of peace.  And for two, because after everyone shared out, Mama Nia had us all notice that none of us named police when we thought of peace and safety in our lives (I am retelling this exercise as best I can from memory).  The gist was, when we think of what makes us feel safe, none of us named police or adding more police to our communities.  

Thus, with all that's going on this morning, I reflected on that activity, and here's my poetic response: Rocking Chair:  In My SpiritHouse.

In my SpiritHouse

I closed my eyes and imagined

What does peace and safety look like?

I saw myself in my rocking chair

Moving to and fro without a care.

With the dark of night enveloped all around me

In my lap, fast asleep, my Black babies

Resting snugly in my embrace.

The weight of their bodies bearing

Down on my chest

I feel them even when they are not there.

Rocking in my chair late at night

In my arms I feel the weight of my Black babies’ bodies

As I rock them in my arms late at night.

I rock my Black babies’ bodies in my arms

Late at night and

I feel their weight on my chest.

And they are at peace and safely in my arms.

In my SpiritHouse

Late at night, I rock my Black babies’ bodies

In my arms to and fro

I feel their weight on my chest.

And we are at peace and safely in His arms

In my SpiritHouse

I closed my eyes and imagined

What does peace and safety look like …

I did not see police.