Monthly Archives: March 2017

Leetah, My Childhood Nubiamancy Idol

Leetah is a powerful healer with the ability to mend wounds of mind and body with a touch. She is gentle and nurturing, yet fierce and tenacious when using her powers to protect those she loves. Though she now lives in the forest and follows the ways of the nocturnal Wolfriders, Leetah remains a creature of light and there is a feline elegance to her golden beauty. With the  combination of her healing power and maternal wisdom, she holds a position of honor with both the desert and the woodland tribes.

-Leetah

LeetahI don’t remember who brought Elfquest into the house. I have to imagine it was my brother because he was crazy about comics from a very young age. Sure, I read Betty and Veronica and all nature of Archie and friends comics, including Katy Keene but my brother indulged in more serious, dramatic comics with darker, racier themes. Elfquest was one of them. And somehow, my mom started reading them as well because I recall that she was the last person to take over that collection Presently, I am still in possession of the X-men collection.

Yeah, the three of us were nerds.

But back to Elfquest. What drew me to this comic was the story of the Sun people and the powerful healer among them, Leetah. As a young girl, when I saw Leetah I saw a super feminine, Black being, a loving, healing, psychic, intoxicatingly beautiful, maternal woman, who above all things, was proud and unashamed of her femininity. She kept a beautiful golden dagger strapped to her thigh and was raised among people, who, like many native and indigenous tribes, understood and revered the power of women in their community. The Sun Folk gave daily praise and deference to the power of nature in all things. They lived in an advanced, civilized, agrarian society while their pale counterparts, the Wolfriders, lived in caves, fleeing from humans and all manner of treachery, danger and inherited fears. Of course the Wolfriders end up invading the Sun Folk because they’re starving, need shelter and stuff and don’t trust nobody, have no home training and are savages.

The usual.

It didn’t offend me at the time, when Leetah, despite herself, recognized Cutter, the leader of the Wolf Riders, as her soul mate. The story, not surprisingly, is written and illustrated by a white couple. White people are always both dependent on us for their survival to the point of depletion, yet somehow completely incapable of anything resembling proportional gratitude or compensation in any but the most useless words and empty symbolic gestures.

leetah_glitter_download3_by_foxfirered

Always, in the foreground of my consciousness, as a I read this comic book I loved, was the sense of regret and resentment of the trouble, the strife and violence that was forced upon the Sun Folk when the Wolfriders entered their lives. Before they arrived, the Sun people lived for a long time in peace and harmony, with their traditions and rituals, obeying the forces of nature and the ways of their ancestors. But without the Wolfriders, there would be no quest. Or to put it another way, heroic narratives told by oppressors only begin with their invasion of a people. The lives the of those people before colonization is rarely made accessible to the mainstream.

From the beginning, the history of race relations, after the construction of race was created, in order to tip the balance of privilege to Caucasians, has been inextricably predicated upon the necessity of violence, genocide, rape, murder, torture and gentrification of Black and Brown peoples. No fictional story which includes the entrance of Europeans or pale races, into the land of a peaceful, nature abiding, indigenous, diasporic peoples ever ends well for those people.

The merging of Wolfriders and the Sun people or rather Leetah with Cutter, was not without its challenges. Rayek, a powerful warrior in Leetah’s tribe who loved and wanted her as his mate, was naturally painted as a petty and unworthy opponent who retreats into self-exile after losing the trial for her heart. But of course the Sun Folk never intended to fight the Wolfriders because they were not a fighting people….

Blank stare…

They were peaceful and welcoming. And ultimately, the Wolfriders had no intent to wage war on the Sun Fok. They were just seeking sanctuary and shelter from their persecutors and a pit stop from a fearful, desperate and nomadic way of living. But the fear, violence and destruction they sought refuge from, followed them eventually. And this time, when the Wolfriders fled the Village of the Sun Folk, Leetah went with them; her fate tied to people she was not akin to but would be bound to forever.

Oshun
Oshun

Still, in a world of whitewashed, female heroes, whose stories were set in the cold and concrete realities of patriarchal metropolitan societies or futuristic wastelands, I found refuge in Leetah’s journey as a Brown woman living in harmony with nature.  With the full knowledge of her purpose as a healer, mother and potential life partner, and as someone who was raised among elders whom she worshipped, Leetah was accustomed to going to them for wisdom and guidance as a way of life. In a very Oshun like way, she was surrounded with beauty, love, fertility, abundance, intuition and fierce capability I rarely ever saw in Black female comic characters.  So for me, Leetah was a very early example of Goddessness personified.

 

 

 

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Dance is life

One of the many initial ways I discovered my love for my husband was through dancing with him. We first danced together at a spot he used to frequent with his HS friends on the upper west side. I was completely swept away. It is a moment I recall as if no time has passed and whenever we dance together, I feel it again as if nothing has changed. I close my eyes and feel as if I’m soaring. I feel all his love and happiness surging through me, and nothing else matters. Dancing with a partner is a unifying kind of intimacy that incorporates innate rhythm in a way I’ve always loved. We move together, follow one another, improvise, change with the timing, guide one another, free one another, hold on to one another and create energy that can only be produced as a result of this one of a kind collaboration.

I felt exactly the same dancing with my love last night in the Bronx, at Mamajuanas, a place my brother and his wife took us to for some dancing and much needed turn up time. I usually have to drag him to go out to social events but he can’t resist an invitation from my brother so I knew we were going. It was a night that began with all kinds of sketchy, and dramatic events  and we didn’t even end up to spot we had initially planned on, but we pushed through it and found our way to a space with great vibes and great music, run by and dominated with sexy, soul filled people of the Diaspora who just wanted to have a good time.

I haven’t been out dancing in some time and I didn’t get out of bed until around 3pm on Sunday. LOL! But As I write this, my body feels no pain whatsoever. I’m quite happy, feeling quite blessed and ready for the work week ahead.

My First Waist Beads

In African tradition, waist beads are meant to be worn under clothing. They’re for you. It’s personal.

Tica Bowden

Yesterday, after work, I picked up my very first set of waist beads from a friend in Brooklyn, who creates them by hand. It’s been quite a long time coming and finally, everything I needed to be able to commission them, lined up so I could make my order. I met Janice through my BF soulsistah4real who conducted an interview with her in 2015. I ran into her at a party for a mutual friend last month and took the opportunity to speak to her about making a set of waist beads for me with some specific energy and intention poured into them.

When Janice sent me the photo of my waist beads, I loved them right away. She used the color I love and the stones that were necessary for the intentions I am setting. Putting them on was like putting on something that belonged on me. They’re not irritable or foreign feeling at all, at least not so far. They lay comfortably just along my waistline, under my belly. They’re so light, I sometimes forget they’re even on.

Waistbeads

As I lay in bed last night, feeling them on my skin, it felt as if they were at home on me, like a part of me I didn’t know I needed. I don’t have any tattoos but I imagine this is something like what people who love tattoos feel like. It’s also wonderful to be connected to other women through an ancient tradition. It’s something beautiful  and meaningful, which is tucked away and unnoticed, yet always there and sometimes peeking through.

When we were last at Spa Castle, lounging in the hot pools on the lower level, I remember we saw several sistahs wearing waist beads. You would think that just being naked was sensual enough but waist beads have a way of enhancing feminine energy in a distinct and way that varies in nature from delicate and demure to bold and extroverted but always sexy

Like another BF of mine said, waist beads tell a story. And I know that in ancient times women who were proficient in the language of stones and colors, knew what those stories were, what tribe a woman was from, how old she was, what she was wishing for, going through, celebrating, expressing or meditating on, based on her waist beads.

The look on my husband’s face when I showed him was priceless. He was like a kid in candy store! LOL! I know it was a new feeling for him. Even I could not have anticipated the feeling I had when I put them on, and saw them on myself the first time. It’s a uniquely pleasurable experience that is a welcome departure from Western ideas about sexuality and what makes a woman beautiful.

I’m very glad that these particular waist beads are my very first set. I know they will not be the last.

Your Pussy Blues Ain’t Mine

Our troubles as women in America pale in comparison to theirs. In my opinion, the things women complain about in the United States cause us to look like a bunch of ungrateful piss ants! I wouldn’t dare take a stand with a bunch of cry baby white American women. Why are you so upset? White women aren’t being shot down in the streets like dogs. You aren’t being incarcerated by the masses. Your families aren’t being torn apart while you struggle against a system designed to keep you behind. Until you take a stand for the disparity Black men encounter daily, I give zero fucks about your hurt feelings.

Shemeka Michelle

Yesterday, a co-worker informed me that she would be off today and offered, that in part, she was taking the day off in commemoration of International Women’s Day. Now, I was dimly aware that this was happening at some point but since I had no interest in participating, I never took note of its approach. So I was like, what’s that, what happening now? She explained to me the intent of “A Day Without Women” as a way to show how valuable women are blah blah blah… and that I should wear red tomorrow.

Internal blank stare…

Then I asked “What is this in response to? Did something happen?” Did someone else’s pussy get grabbed? She couldn’t really give me any other explanation except to say that it’s to so show how important women are….

…..sigh

…internal side eye

Great! “Happy International I Have a Vagina and it’s important but it’s really about White Women Day!” Enjoy that shit.

This morning my best friend in Divine Black Feminine Love posted an article by Shemeka Michelle titled,

Dear White Women, F#*K You and Your #DayWithoutAWoman

In it she expressed my sentiments about this day and more. And basically it just gave me all the life I needed to carry on through all this Women’s Day BS. Because as a Black woman when I hear the words Women’s anything, just like when I hear the words Americans, I think only one thing.

WHITENESS

And Michelle just confirmed the fuck out of my feelings with facts to back it up and pettiness like honey to sweeten one of the best reads I’ve heard all day. Let’s give thanks for BFFS who give the gift of facts with righteous frustration and pettiness sprinkled in.

I passed this article on to another sistah this morning and she was just floored with confirmation. She got it. She called me immediately thanking me, and telling me that she subscribed to the blog. This is how deeply we need community, need our own space and platforms to express our true feelings about things. Because otherwise, we (Black people) get bombarded with what the majority deems as event that are appropriate to celebrate and circulate without even fucking knowing what that shit has to do with supporting or acknowledging the truly marginalized, the oppressed, the underpaid, incarcerated and brutalized.  What the fuck am I Marching for “women” for? I’m a woman and I have no problems being one. I have no complaints. The way I am treated as a woman is not and never has been the point of my contention in America. Point blank period.

As Michelle says in her blog entry:

I will NOT stand with you. You’ve climbed the corporate ladder at the expense of many Black men and women. You are just like the White men that you want us to help you fight against.

So count me out of this and every other pussy hat brigade organized protest from now until the end of time. I and everyone who looks like me has been counted out by a violent monopoly of systemic racism for hundreds of years so that should be easy.

Plus, I saw like tons of women at work today, like everywhere I went, women were working, like at work, like at jobs…working.

Soooo….exactly who the fuck was taking the day off today?

Tell me.

Who?