WRITE SIS blossomed from one of the deepest, most intimate spaces of my heart...
It is critical for me to acknowledge that without coming across Erlene Stetson's Black Sister: Poetry by Black American Women, 1746-1980, this movement may have never been brought to life. I thank her for bringing liberation and unity to the forefront of my mind.
As a musician and poet myself, I am honored to breathe life into a project that personally nourishes me; poetry is stitched into my DNA, and I'm blessed to be such an elegant wordsmith. I am an Afro-American woman who orchestrates rhythm with words, and my creativity has served as a survival tactic on my own journey. Being of African descent and woman is simultaneously a unique and glorious experience. My artwork, music, poetry, and offerings are symbols of a deep rooted divinity that forges itself into pens that once belonged to my matriarch ancestors.
Keep in mind WRITE SIS was designed to be more than an outpouring of oppressed voices. It is up to Afro-Americans as a whole to recreate collective realities that are whole and yet separate from the mainstream American ideology of what it means to be "black and female" (note that I intentionally do NOT use the term "black" to describe my people. We will not be reduced to a color, which has no feeling or animate abilities). It is my hope that this poetess movement will delicately transplant readers to open soil and fresh air. I hope that this movement allows the Afro-American community space to take a deep breathe and extend their roots. I hope this movement reminds the culture to take the edification of Afro-American women's minds seriously!
We must continue to do the work, the research, the reading, and the listening. We cannot accept racist assumptions, we must preserve our minds and our writings as much as possible. The literary history of Afro-American Women are neither completely documented nor widely appreciated, and that ends TODAY.
Look deeper, read slower, & love harder my good sis.
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Finally alone, with smoky stones & candle fumes,
Because being is all I ever wanted.
You cut your poetry from the cloths of my mothers, aunts, grandmothers and orishas.
Understanding my hair texture is heavy art.
I hope you discover me in your speakers,
& eat my poetry on your silver spoon.
-Autumn LaBella, 2020
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