What shall I tell my children who are Black?
Of what it means to be a captive in this dark skin?
What shall I tell my dear one,
Fruit of my womb,
Of how beautiful they are when everywhere they turn they are faced with abhorrence of everything that is Black?
What shall I tell my dear ones raised in a white world,
A place where white has been made to represent all that is good and pure and fine and decent,
Where clouds are white and dolls and heaven,
Surely,
Is a white,
White place with angels robed in white and cotton candy and ice cream and milk and ruffled Sunday dresses?
What can I say,
Therefore,
When my child comes home in tears because a playmate has called him Black,
Big-lipped,
Flat-nosed,
And nappy-headed?
What will he think when I dry his tears and whisper,
Yes,
That's true,
But no less beautiful and dear?
How shall I lift up his head,
Get him to square his shoulders,
Look his adversaries in the eye,
Confident of the knowledge of his worth,
Serene under his sable skin,
And proud of his own beauty?
What can I do to give him strength that he may come through life's adversities as a whole human being,
Unwarped and human in a world of biased laws and inhumane practices,
That he might survive,
And survive he must,
For who knows,
Perhaps this Black child here bears genius.
Excerpted from Margaret Burrow's poem,
What Shall I Tell My Children Who Are Black?
The womb of woman is wise,
Resilient,
And strong.
It's a safe place,
A nurturing place,
Enclosed and protected,
A sanctuary,
If you will.
We may think of it solely and specifically designed to bring forth,
To birth another human,
A whole another person who needs all kinds of untold support to grow into all that they are destined to be.
But it's so much more than that.
Its effect on life happens whether a woman ever bears a child,
Whether a woman-identifying person carries this physical organ,
And when it ceases to bear children.
Wise,
Resilient,
Strong.
It's the womb of woman where all of this life begins,
Where seeds bud and flourish,
Where impenetrable protection unfolds and covers,
Where depth of understanding lays a solid foundation to be,
To stretch,
To triumph.
Miracles happen here.
Miracles and meaning that transcend a woman's physicality.
Wombs hold space for life itself and all its wonders.
Conception,
Creation,
Conditions,
Care,
Contour.
In our sacred text for today,
Burrow's raises the concerns of growing a Black-bodied human in a white world.
We can extend her concerns to growing a differently-abled human in an able-bodied world,
Growing a human with any significant marginalized difference in a predominant world,
To growing anything that goes against the grain,
The status quo,
Anything that we're used to.
We wander,
We fret,
We worry,
We cry,
We overcompensate,
We sacrifice,
We succumb to depression,
We endure panic attacks.
The weight of the world on our wombs for the greatest responsibility in the world of bringing forth another living thing.
The womb of woman,
Wise,
Resilient,
Strong.
Let's consider its strength.
Physically,
Our wombs exhibit remarkable strength as they expand and contract during pregnancy,
Accommodating the growth of new life and then pushing it out a relative narrow canal during the birthing process.
This process is not independent of the strength and vitality of the entirety that is woman's energy.
Symbolically,
Our wombs represent the essence of creation and regeneration.
The womb of woman is a source of life,
The vessel through which whole other human beings,
Entire concepts never seen before,
Are brought into this world to make differences,
Change trajectories,
And heal wounds as old as time itself.
Just as our wombs hold and withstand the demands of childbirth,
We can rely on our inner strength to hold life's challenges,
Nurture them,
And emerge from adversity with renewed,
Refreshed vitality.
The womb of woman is a testament to the enduring miraculous power of creation,
Care,
And transformation.
Resilience.
Let's bear witness to our womb's inherent power as feminine essence.
Its bounce back game is unmatched.
Repeated exposure to threats hits all kinds of challenges and it heals to continue its incredible,
Miraculous work to create,
Nurture,
And sustain life.
Physically,
Our wombs traverse and withstand remarkable changes throughout a woman's life,
From puberty to pregnancy to post-menopause.
Responding to the ebb and flow of life's cycles,
Doing so with grace and hopefully gratitude.
Emotionally and spiritually,
Our wombs carry the weight of our experiences,
Those of joy and sorrow.
It holds space for our deepest hopes and dreams,
Our most terrifying fears and traumas as well.
And even in the face of adversity,
Our wombs remain a source of resilience,
Offering sanctuary to provide healing and renewal.
I know that often we can wish that our resilience would not be so necessary,
Yet it is.
We find our wombs mirror the resilience we ourselves carry,
Embodying the same characteristics of adaptability,
Perseverance,
And endurance.
We have an innate capacity to overcome obstacles,
Rise above even when we had to get low for a minute or two,
And then emerge stronger than ever before.
May we honor not only the resilience of our wombs,
But the resilience of all woman-identifying persons as we embody awe-inspiring abilities to navigate this life,
Whether it looks graceful and dignified or not,
Because you know sometimes.
Anyway,
We are sacred and powerful and transforming.
The womb of woman.
And finally,
Wise.
The wisdom of the womb is mysterious and profound.
It is multifaceted,
Reflecting the sacredness of creation and what it means to be divinely feminine.
There's power in its nurturing and sustainability,
Ability to bring forth new beginnings and endless possibilities,
Miracle of conception,
Cycles of life and death,
The very home of feminine intuition.
Within our wombs are eternal embers of ancestral wisdom that sometimes ignite into flames,
Holding understanding and knowledge of generations past,
Present,
And future,
A deep connection to lineage that shapes our identities and guides our paths.
There's a profound sacredness of the womb of woman,
Which invites honor and respect and reverence.
We're better when we do it.
We're worse when we ignore it.
The wisdom of our wombs is ancient.
Today we're carrying an evolved essence that is rooted in the very beginnings of life itself,
Stretching back eons of eras.
We hold an accumulation of everything that it means to breathe and hold our breath and expel it one last time.
It's a silent,
Powerful,
Unwavering partner speaking to the cycles of birth,
Death,
And rebirth,
Teaching us the important lessons of holding for a time,
Of letting go,
And of picking back up to begin again.
It's our source of incredible insight so that when we follow its guidance,
We see better,
We connect more deeply to ourselves,
To others,
And to the divine.
The womb of woman reminds us always that we have a prominent place in the greater weaving of this world and in the significance of every moment.
It tells us that we are strong,
Resilient,
And wise as we spark life,
Care for it,
And push it out into the world.
However it journeys through a physical lifetime,
Its presence never leaves us.
May we know deeply that also,
However,
We as humans journey through a physical lifetime,
Our presence never leaves creation.
Ashe.
May it be so.
Ashe,
May you be so.
Asheo.
