B L A C K L I V E S M A T T E R
“We have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. We have all loved someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. It is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, I think, to be an organ and a blade.”
I return to these words from Nayyirah Waheed over and over and over. They hold meaning to me as a human and to my shop, whose identity was built around the same undulant duality.
A soft, vulnerable, tender thing...to care for, shelter, and protect. But also a strength, resolve, courage...to change, to begin, to try. Guts are what it is to be human. The eternal ebb and flow of softness and strength. Being so human is hard. But less so, together.
We are in this life together. The house is not whole while any one of us hurts. And an entire community tells us: We are hurting.
It is our responsibility to hear it. To move in the direction of ending that hurt, in all of the ways our bodies, words, and actions allow. It will not be done in a day, and it will look different for everyone. But we must move. Learning + unlearning, failure + growth, speaking out + stepping back, we must make room for voices that need to be heard. For the pain and the truths and the stories that are being told. But also—maybe most importantly—for joy.
Do what you can and keep doing what you can. Make space for Black voices to lead. Embolden others to do the same.
Honor your guts, your softness and strength. Remember your responsibility—as an organ and a blade—and choose how you use it every day.
For each other ~
