My Origin Story

At an early age, I appreciated the role of oral tradition and personal family archives. I remember sitting under the family dinner table, listening to my elders speak of their life on the family farm in Oberlin, land that had been in my family for generations on my father’s side. The land was passed down from my great-grandfather, who spoke around the country to Black folks on the government to religion. There are newspaper clippings of his speeches in Black newspapers and references to his businesses in “Negro directories” dating back to 1908!
On my mother’s side, the matriarch spoke of how her husband was part of the Battle of Bulge and her eldest brother also served during wartime, but neither was welcomed back with the same privileges as their white counterparts. My grandmother spoke of cleaning homes and the eventual joy of owning her home as a Black woman at a time when it was a rare occasion.
I have always been a captive of narratives–to the power of the stories of Black life. The relevance and critical imperative in seeing the self-reflected in the spaces they live and in the scrapbook of America’s journey were poured into my soul, imprinted on me before I was born. I know my ancestors set me on this path to be part of this work to explore, advocate, celebrate the lives lived of people that look like my family and me and other marginalized peoples looking for their reflection and their stories.