The smile that just came across my face when I thought about the words that would describe her. I think of her as a chameleon, but I wonder why she has to be. She is graceful, poised, my everything, needed, wanted, a mother to all, the standard, sought after in most if not all things. She is a hard worker, she’s imitated, she is passionate, she is feared, she is superwoman, she is accomplished, she simply makes it all look so easy. She is simply “CROWNED.”
Then my smile turns upside down as I think about her brokenness, how she is the most disrespected woman on earth, her fear, exhaustion, loneliness. The half-smile comes back when I see how she is the first to do, but the last to be recognized for it. She is the mother for many but never to herself. She is also absent while her young daughter craves her presence and her son yearns for her nurturing. I simply think WHY her? Why is there so many characteristics that can define something I think is so perfect without flaws. I am not a biological mother, but when I watch you, I am always in awe, so I decided to write you this letter to let you know.
Black Mother, a tilted crown is still being carried.
Black Mother, stop being so strong for everyone but yourself.
Black Mother, you don’t have to wear the cape anymore, it’s wearing you down.
Black Mother, I need you in my life past 60 years old.
Black Mother, though you are the most disrespected, many of us love you and want your wisdom.
Black Mother, I know you are tired, please rest.
Black Mother, THANK YOU for loving me enough and teaching me my independence.
Black Mother, you always told me it would be alright even when you knew it would not be.
Black Mother, you built the foundation and now I am standing on your back holding it up.
Black Mother, you don’t have to fear anymore, you have taught me well.
Black Mother, you are often imitated but never duplicated.
Black Mother, I am sorry your mother didn’t show you and you had to figure it out.
Black Mother, I know sometimes it’s hard doing it on your own.
Black Mother, you were never a welfare queen, you were just trying to make a way for me.
Black Mother, how did 20k a year feed me and my sister, you never missed a beat?
Black Mother, I see your tears, I feel your scars even though you think you hide it so well.
Black Mother, your legacy helps me breathe and makes it all seem possible.
Black Mother, your prayers have covered me and made me into the woman that I am today.
Black Mother, I know you wish you could have done better but you did great.
Black Mother, As I cry writing this, I know that my words will NEVER be enough to show you what this world would be without you. What I would be without you. I could never imagine being a product of anyone but a BLACK MOTHER.
To all of my BLACK MOTHER’s though the world may tell you differently, YOU ARE ENOUGH, hold your head up and wear that tilted crown.
YOU ARE CROWNED! YOU ARE LOVED! I am you and you are me!
Thank you Queen Glady’s Diane Barrett for making me and showing me. I know that you would be so proud to see your reflection in me. Thank you for being our BLACK MOTHER!