I was born in St. Louis, Missouri (affectionately referred to as “Misery”), the middle of the promised land, and I have yet to get what was promised, or any land. Yet I am willing to promise that I am willing to die to get some land. Beyond my physical limitations, my physical should not be limited. I refuse to allow it to. And yet, I am also beset by the acknowledgement of my studies and my calculations informing me of how our assimilations into western thought and practices are becoming an asphyxiation of our human evolution. As much as I would love to believe I am a great and inspiring writer, I did not write the script that causes my disdain. I did not forge the words that move the world to forget that although I am poor, I am also one with your God. I did not write your hypocrisy, and through all my hypocrisies, I have still been able to write a very small body of works, with a very huge significance.
All my life Blackness has meant ‘pain.’
All my life Blackness has meant ‘fight.’
All my life Blackness has meant ‘struggle.’
For once…I would just like for Blackness to mean ‘peace’.
So as I figure out a way to avoid working eight hours in trenches, and asbestos, for seven dollars and a quarter per hour, I am also seeking to calm down a soul that rages through whatever medium it can find. While we can’t find a world to respect us enough to honor Aiyana nor Oscar, I have found too much self-respect for me to carry on as a slave no matter what consequences beset me. And my Blackness is still taking notes on what it means to be Black.
I would like to humbly speak for The Summit: thank for you sticking with us, and thank you for reading our thoughts. We love you.
Your Brother Owl
Delegate of The Summit, 2010