Reclaiming Our Time

“Growing up, I played in the Huguenot Cemetery as a child. We came here on field trips. As we walk toward the celebration, I try and remember what I know about this place. Did I ever learn about the history of the Huguenots? Yes, I remember that. Did they talk about slavery in reference to the Huguenots? No, I have no recollections of that.”

“Tameka asks Terry if he has a particular ritual when he does the overnights in slave dwellings. Terry raises his arms which are in shackles. ‘This is what I do,’ he says, looking sad. He talks about a cold night in South Carolina when he could see the moon through the cracks in the ceiling boards.”

“There is a race passing by in front of me. It feels so surreal to see that above the cellar, life is continuing on. I see runners, all ages and shapes, mainly Caucasians. I see so clearly the current black and white American psyche, and how we carry on the ties to slavery. Caucasians need us to be a certain way so that they can thrive on top.”

“Now we live side by side, one another, in many places in America, and in some ways we experience equality, but don’t be fooled too much by these optics: if something were to accidentally happen to one of our white hosts, and we needed to call paramedics and police, you’d be looking at a room full of terrified brown people, and that fear would feel very familiar to you. Most likely, given where we are, the authority that would respond would be a white man, and all of us, consciously or unconsciously, would say a silent prayer that he was a righteous one; that his baton won’t replace the whip.”

“Here in this church, I breathe. We breathe. We listen. Listen for the sounds of Truth. Listen for lost songs and shed tears in stone and wood. Think of this land and its ribbons of fields and trees. Think of running through them. Running through grasses and thorns where there are now houses and stores. Think of running for freedom in the dark of night.”