I envy folks who can erase their history and create a new definition of who they are; that is absolutely brave. I have this need to learn everything there is about me: the mundane, the things worthy of pride & shame and the parts of my story that were ripped from me.Whether it is fortunate or not, every single part of me, past and present, is who I am.
The key to carrying my past (my stories & the stories of my ancestors) is perspective. I can choose to let my history drag me down or I can say “I am Imani : daughter, sister, cousin, friend & grandchild. I am one part of a long story that is always expanding, and though it is not perfect, all of it is mine”. I cannot separate myself from this story because I don’t want to lose that feeling of representing something greater than myself. And I agree that it is no one’s job to represent anything, but I volunteer.
So, when I step forward (or backwards), I’m stepping with great-great Mary A. Johnson, My Mom, My Grandma’s, my dear Aunts and Uncles, and everyone who has brought me here.
You don’t need a lot to go anywhere. All I took was a toothbrush.
My sisters and I traveled 998 miles over the past two days. Up and down the East Coast. We drove down to North Carolina from Maryland, then all the way up to New Jersey. I bought a MONKEY MUG.
Sleeping in the car and driving ANYWHERE was the most exciting thing I’ve done in a while. We took the back roads through Pennsylvania, Delaware, and North Carolina. It was a wonderful experience. We drove for hours, stopping anywhere that was interesting and Sang with the windows down. We listened to EVERYTHING.
I know this sounds cliche, but the wind blowing through your hair is liberating. the winding roads. the sun. the rain. laughter.
It was an adventure. I would suggest a random Road trip to anyone (: