Libertea ☕️

so i frolicked. not in the wind this time. because who is gone with the wind? not me. I’m at the museum this time. omg i love going to the museum. especially a night at the museum. actually let’s throw it back to this night at the museum.

yummy. but that’s besides the point. i saw this piece. i can’t get it off my mind.

she’s the statue of liberty.

not the one you’ve seen but the one you know. a black woman .

who has fought for freedom. not gifted with it. found liberation in freeing others. like harriet. but her greatest freedom. freeing herself. from invisible shackles. only those close enough to her heart can see. where some see strength, others see old wounds that still cut like a knife. I saw so much of myself staring at this larger-than-life symbol of. freedom. of souls. love. tenacity. strength. light. and abundance of everything that shouldn’t even exist. like magic. because we just can’t believe the reflection is staring right back at us. sigh.

& i thought about the statue of liberty. the official girl. that i don’t see myself in. that i actually never even think of. because i was born into freedom unlike some of my mothers before me. I thought about what she represents for those traveling from overseas. she stands as an omen. of a greater life. beyond some people’s wildest dreams come true. freedom. a new life. an erasure of the past. maybe even equal footing. respect. hope. she is hope. & even if you are not a reflection of her, you will be one step closer to ultimate freedom by standing next to a woman who represents her.

& i thought about how i may not represent that. especially for a black man. trying to escape home with a need to travel overseas. because it is a white woman who literally represents the American dream. & i’m home. the very thing being ran away from. your mother tongue.the womb that you come from. with hair that looks like yours. with pain that feels like yours. & your mothers. but your father ran away. to the statue of liberty. america’s it girl. & i can’t compete with her coverance. protection. nor could your mother & our generation of anger. breed. again. & again. because now i feel i just walked in your mother’s shoes.

i once read a book called. This Bridge Called My Back. (gifted by Vanessa. thanks mami) & there’s a poem. where a woman explained her jealousy of white women & for the first time. i was met with the grief of jealousy.

funny thing is tho. America was first gifted with a statue of liberty who was a black woman by the french. she was rejected. like so many us are.

another funny thing just happened. i looked up the word liberty. the synonyms reminded me of the women i know, but the image didn’t.