Nappy edges

Anita Hill

She’s the only thing I can think about. How white women are surprised by the lack of justice their country is giving them but they forget if there is no justice for Anita there can’t be any for Mrs. Ford.

I am so sad.

I think every woman has been a survivor of sexual violence in one way or another and especially women of color who for many of us our lives wouldn’t be possible without rape.

Ntozake creates a world where we call men out on their bullshit. It’s a really scary and hard pill to swallow but I’m so happy she made it.

There are many moments of sexual reclamation and happiness in these pieces. The happiness I would say that exist while she is with men. That is something that does perplex me, how horrible men are but we can still enjoy them.

I had no idea until her visit that Shange had a Phd. in Nappy Edges she pulls from the best part of academia really pulling apart pieces of work and critiquing them greatly. Placing music and poetry together an intertwining them delicately.

This excerpt from “I talk to myself” at least for me serves as a tool. It is Shange’s weapon and she’s passing it down to you and me!

It’s going from “I didn’t take care of myself the way I cd have had  I known I waz worth loving.” (December 1977 Ms. Magazine) to writing poems.

I am going to revisit a previous thought. In “Nappy Edges” Shange writes

“if we don’t know the voice of a writer/the way we know “oh that’s trane”/ something is very wrong. we are unfortunately/ selling ourselves down river again”

We cannot lose her words. I am afraid we already have. I am afraid beyond the walls of Barnard people with nappy edges aren’t hearing their poems.

I tried finding research on preserving art while climate change is happening and I found nothing, perhaps that should change. No one thinks about preserving art before a war and before we know it so much is lost. Thank goodness for the archives.