reflections on an alternative spring break
The desire to have a legacy is rooted in many things. they take root in the desires to be memorialized, to be remembered beyond a lifetime. We seek to take root amongst community, sharing the desires to live and function as a unit. It is by design that we desire kinship and closeness. As a people who have been removed from their roots, it is by marvelous design and memory that we maintained and sustained the ability to innovate and survive despite the most violent and horrendous circumstances. This incredible existence is not without struggle and resistance, yet the joys of forging new paths from the fires set to destroy us leads me to my own relationship with legacies.
When you are a country girl like myself, the roots are closer to the leaves than one may think. I knew and spent most of my adolescence in the bosoms of my great-grandmothers, grandmothers, and mother. I saw the evolution of traditions, the sacrifices of the hands and feet for the family, and the laughter and joy that permeated the home during a family gathering. More often than not, legacy is rooted in capitalism: the ability to be memorialized through wealth and firsts. Although we did not have firsts and a billion dollar heritage, we had land and, with that, the memories of our ancestors in that land.
Prayer House, Mitchelville (2022)
After talking to a friend, I decided to engage in an alternative spring break with the Quarterman-Keller Scholars Program (Spelman Social Justice Program) and The Reparations Project. The Reparations Project was started by Sarah Eisner and Randy Quarterman, two individuals invested in the goals of racial healing and repair (reparations). We would be traveling to Hilton Head Island, SC and Savannah, GA to discuss the field work they were doing to improve the material conditions of the communities, and how reparations are tied to their work. I did not imagine the grounding I would receive as a result of going on this trip; however, this trip reaffirmed the importance of repair in an interpersonal and communal way. Through several activities on our itinerary, I got a glimpse into the resilience of the local gullah - geechee people. these are my reflections:
Savannah, GA (2022)
I appreciate the stubbornness of my ancestors. I appreciate how they were spiritually knowledgeable about the importance of immortalizing and remembering. Seeing the prayer house at the historical site of Mitchelville--the first settlement of formerly enslaved africans-- stirred a feeling of awe within me. To be able to connect to the land and evoke the memory of the land is magical. Through narratives brought to life by Louise Miller Cohen, and tours by the legendary Patt Gunn, this trip gave us all the necessary perspectives of those who were born into a lineage and legacy of defiance. This trip inspired me to do some legacy work of my own.
My ancestors were stubborn. the innate desire to remove oneself from the violence of sharing a slave owner’s name led them to change their last name to Strong: signifying the defiance of defeat and moving towards self-sufficiency. Due to this defiance, our family is unable to trace our lineage to a plantation or white family. My maternal great-grandfather joined the military in the early 1940s and was forced to change his name to Straughn. I believe it is no shock that my family was invested in legacy. Now, it is my goal to bridge the past to the present to immortalize their efforts, for they understand the power in identity. This alternative spring break taught me the power of remembrance. This is part one of that power.
