Message From The Divine

And He gave some as apostles, and some as prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers,

So,

Listen to the God in me as He teaches me to teach you.

Through His teaching, we are divinely inspired so this is the
DIVINE EXPRESSION


Friday, June 05, 2009

My Sister... My Sisters


"When I look at you, I see myself. If my eyes are unable to see you as my sister, it is because my own vision is blurred. And if that be so, then it is I who need you either because I do not understand who you are, my sister, or because I need you to help me understand who I am."

-Lillian P. Benbow


And if I cannot see you... And if I do not view you... And if I cannot fathom you... then it is you who needs to teach me, the academic, the scholar, the resident of the upper echelon... Black women have always been characterized as strong. The mule of the world goes well with the moniker of strength. We build, we create, we nurture. We are mother nature, and we are the God's greatest creation. Now, we have no problem with referring to ourselves as such, the problem comes in when we are forced to look at another woman, and ascertain her particular value.


We belittle, we talk-down, we condescend. We look in pity at the woman who has to live in the projects, we ignore the woman who cuts the grass on our pristine campus, we deny a role to the woman to serves in the university cafeteria. We only value the women who we believe can teach us something, or offer us something else. Women who we do not see to hold any value are discarded as useless and "beneath" us. But who are we to assign value?


The woman in the projects is the mother of our future. The woman mowing the lawn is a grandmother to your student. The woman taking your order is the sister of a future scholar. God has given each a measure of talent to be used for the upbuilding and enrichment of the kingdom. The welfare mother has been given a talent, just as the neurophysicist.


The essential building blocks for black womanhood rest in the phenomenalness of our womenhood. It is the rise of our breasts, and the curve of our spine. It rests in the power of our voice, and the softness of our cry. It rests in the sway of our hips, and the joy in our thighs. It rests in the curl of our hair, and the brown in our eye. It rests in me, and rests in you.


The change I seek, starts with me.

0 responses: