My dear Mya, Embarking on my journey, I found strength in our heritage and the power of education. As a Black woman in Engineering, I've navigated challenges, celebrated diversity, and championed change. Remember, your path is impactful - embrace it with courage and pride. Your potential is boundless, fueled by our ancestors' dreams. With all my love, Mom
Like a physical quilt, which stitches and binds together three layers to make a whole,
we present this afrofuturistic quilt. We stitch together the mind, body and soul of ourselves, our foremothers, and our future daughters.
In doing this, we create a conversation in the now which also spans space and time.
Join us.
To abolish is to break down, break apart, and create the new in the aftermath of the old. In a similar way, and with a similar aim, a fugitive focuses on escaping. Instead of overtly destroying a structure, worldview, belief system, way of being or way of acting, a fugitive moves with the shadows and focuses on existing beyond the chains that enslave us.
Lois Mailou Jones was more than an artist; she was a cultural bridge between continents and a pioneering educator. Her work and life story offer invaluable insights into the Black experience, the dynamics of the art world in the 20th century, and the power of art as a tool for social change.
In the heart of a vibrant city, where history whispers through the bustling streets, a young girl discovers her voice amid the echoes of her ancestors. Guided by the wisdom of generations past, she weaves tales of resilience and dreams, her words a beacon of hope in a world yearning for change.
The child in each of us Knows paradise. Paradise is home. Home as it was Or home as it should have been. Paradise is one's own place, One's own people, One's own world. Knowing and known, Perhaps even Loving and loved. Yet every child Is cast from paradise - Into growth and destruction, Into solitude and new community, Into vast, ongoing Change.
I am the future daughter, a culmination of the hopes, dreams and hard work of my foremothers. I exist, finally, in a world that allows me to be free. I am unchained from expectations tainted by historical injustice. I exist as a fully realized person in mind body and soul. Thank you for paving the way for my liberated existence.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.