I flew to Raleigh on Thursday for a Southern Convening of the National Campaign for Police Free Schools.
As you’ll see from the archives, it’s been a summer filled with robust travel; however, this trip gave me a second wind for a few reasons - Thursday was my 32nd birthday, I was born in Winston-Salem, and the convening assembled new and old comrades who are fighting for the freedom of Black & Brown children in their classrooms.
Advancement Project, the Alliance for Educational Justice, and the Education Justice Alliance brought us together for a few days to reflect on history, build community, and envision where we go from here - in the face of such unrelenting attacks on human dignity at all levels in the United States.
On Thursday night, we centered Black joy and bonded over good food and music. In the middle of our celebration, my wonderful comrades brought out a cake and let the Stevie Wonder version of Happy Birthday boom. I felt completely enveloped in love.
The next day, we journeyed to Greensboro for a tour of the Beloved Community Center. So many aspects of my life came together during this sojourn. I attended a conference in 2010 that commemorated the 50th anniversary of the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee. 13 years later, as Black Elders spoke on their past and present efforts to achieve racial justice, I realized - even more - that this is my life’s calling. I am humbled to serve, and - to reflect the balance of life - I am grateful for opportunities to mourn. It’s a long fight that extends across generations, and I’m doing my best to play my part while I can.
We ended the day at the Chavis Community Center in Raleigh. Although folks felt a sense of heaviness — and had to brave the rain to get to the entrance — the final portion of the day offered opportunities to ground ourselves, make even deeper connections with new comrades, and prepare for the next day’s work.
As we boarded the bus to the hotel, I grabbed a picture with two incredible Black women leaders who were introduced into my life by the Dignity in Schools Campaign. I am so thankful that Letha Muhammad, Janice Harper, and so many other Black folks are pouring their gifts into modern movements for racial justice.
On Saturday, we strategized, broke bread, sang karaoke, and brought the convening to a close. I hope that my comrades will get some rest over the next several days; I am beyond excited for what we will collectively build during the 2023-24 academic year and beyond.
As I transitioned into the leisure portion of my trip on Sunday, I took an opportunity to visit Shaw’s campus (my father’s alma mater). I thank God for Ella Baker and other twentieth century freedom fighters who showed us the way to elevate the voices of young people and commit ourselves to intergenerational organizing.
For the rest of the day, I relaxed in Durham. I was able to coordinate schedules with one more incredible Black woman leader from the Dignity in Schools Campaign - Lorie Clark - and we grabbed dinner.
On Monday, I picked up a rental car and drove 90 miles west to Winston-Salem - the city of my birth. Over these 32 years, I am so glad that my family has been kept; all four of my father’s brothers are still alive, and I have three grand aunts who live in central North Carolina. I thank the Lord that Aurelia B. Stribling, Ernestine H. Richardson, and Brenda H. Tate are still with us to confer their wisdom and demonstrate the unending power of love.
I grabbed lunch with several relatives, and we laughed and reminisced the entire time.
I visited Aunt Aurelia and Aunt Brenda at their homes later on that evening, and we all grinned with great contentment as we reunited.
As I got on the flight to Austin yesterday, I recalled a piece of wisdom that my maternal grandmother offered to my mother several years ago.
You can always come home.
That line resonates with me each day of my life, and I am so appreciative that it is true.