An Ode to Black Elders
In thousands of conversations, across decades, I found my political grounding through my relationships with older Black folks.
I conversed with my mother last month about the churches we attended from 1991 to the present. We laughed as we recalled warm memories from Louisiana, North Carolina, Indiana, Missouri, Ohio, D.C., and Oklahoma. I remembered hundreds of Black folks — some who are still here & others who have passed on — who nurtured me as a child and modeled how to grow old with grace.
One such relationship stood out as we reminisced. As a preteen and teenager at Hosack Street Baptist Church in Columbus, Ohio, I attended Sis. Carolyn Byrd’s Sunday School class. From week-to-week, it would often be just me and her. We’d read the biblical passage that informed the lesson, and then we’d proceed to have a 45-minute conversation about its application to modern life. I admired her a great deal, both for her wisdom and for how she reminded me of my aunt Joy. Both women are the youngest siblings from a large crew, and they both served their churches diligently through by instructing young people before worship each Sunday. Both Sis. Carolyn and Aunt Joy showed me how to elevate the voices of Black children in various spaces — and the importance of such action.
At 31, although I’m well into my adulthood, I recognize that I still have a great deal of life to live. I intend to tailor the rest of this journey to the examples of Black folks like Bro. Elmer Sumlin, Sis. Doreane Sumlin, Sis. Fannie Akingbala, Sis. Lydia West-Moore, Bro. Clesson Goodwin, Sis. Jean Wilks-Williams, and Sis. Quenista Glover - just to name several.
I pull inspiration from these Elders as I instruct young people in Ebenezer III Baptist Church’s Christian Education Discipleship Ministry, fight for Black children to be seen as human at the Texas Legislature, and dote on my absolutely brilliant three-year-old niece. For the younger Black folks in my life, I hope to demonstrate to them the great responsibility that comes with carrying on the Black radical tradition — an onus that is rooted in a deep recognition of the past and an ultimately optimistic vision of the future.
From these relationships, I learned the necessity of studying to show oneself approved. I also developed a sense of balance - there is a time to reflect on history and a time to have fun in the moment. During a recent vacation to NYC, as I sipped coffee in a Brooklyn cafe, a Black infant and I ended up playing peek-a-boo for several minutes. For this child, and the millions of Black children who are coming up in twenty-first century America, I pray that my efforts will contribute to their ability to go down the path of life that will be the most fulfilling for them — just as older Black folks have done for me. When I do pass on, as Ella Baker instructs us, younger Black folks will be prepared to pick up the torch.
I give thanks for the true honor that it is to participate in intergenerational relationships with Black people across a lifetime.