Finding My Voice

At first, I wasn't planning to attend the White Plains Juneteenth celebration in White Plains because I am deathly afraid of crowds and didn't trust that social distancing could be maintained.  It was to be held at a central location in White Plains, in the midst of stores, banks and city life.   The decision was made to only invite committee members and to not publicize it.  I caved in and decided to make my debut back into the life of the living.  It's not that I have been totally isolated.  I am back to work.  We have a food distribution and I have been around the allowable ten or less staff members and volunteers.   I go shopping (no more Maxine Drop and Run, that long since ended.  See Corona Chronicles, April 25th).  But for each of these, I control my movements.  The flag raising still concerned me.  Because this place was so central, I was afraid that a crowd would gather.  Then that morning I found out that a local news channel had announced it.  Be that as it was, I knew I had to go.  I had promised to read my two poems, and didn't want to renege.  But, more importantly, I wanted the message from my poem to reach a larger audience than those who read my blog. 

I have been finding (rediscovering) my voice since COVID-19.  I have made quite a number of entries under Corona Chronicles and now under Black Battles.  I am conflicted whether I should thank COVID-19 or say "Nah, nah, nah, nah. nah, I got the better of you."  Because of COVID-19, I am not protesting like I was apt to do in the past.  Fear of crowds.  Fear of reinfection.  COVID-19 got the better on that one for me.  BUT... I am finding other ways, this poem being one.  

I am also reaching out to organizations I am associated with to see what they are doing, if anything.  I have read and heard people say they don't care about seeing these corporations and organizations making statements.  I want them.  When corporations and organizations make these public statements, they are saying to shareholders, funding sources, conservative members, holdouts that this is their stance.  When they don't, I can't trust that they will move on to do anything else.  After the public statement (not one hidden among their memberships), I am coming back at them to see what else they are doing.  For those organization that I am associated with, when there is nothing, I disassociate from them.  I see and hear them loud and clear.

In writing Mama! Africa!, I was influenced by George Floyd's call for his Mama and my sister's lament for our mother in the poem, Mamaa! (Corona Chronicles June 5th).  It is George Floyd's voice which influenced my choice of having a male voice as the narrator.  Mama and Africa are separated by the exclamation mark, since the cry is for both Mama and Africa singularly and together as one - the motherland.  I had written nothing about Juneteenth in the original poem.  I added that verse the morning I was to read  it.  

In reading the poem publicly for the first time that morning, it dredged up every emotion in me, emotions I didn't know I possessed.  It was that slave within me who narrated.  It wasn't planned, any of it, the wailing cry for Mama, the pumping of my fist on the podium, and the cadence in my voice.  It all came out from the pits of my soul and being. 

I am grateful I chose courage over fear and made it to the Flag Raising.  I give too much power to COVID-19 and I am ready to take it back.  I still will not march; not until it's safe to, whenever that is.  But, I can do other things like I have been, making posters for marchers and using my voice.

So to COVID-19, I say nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, you didn't take my voice.  You actually gave me a bigger one.