Common Grounds and Various Teas | Black Writers Week


What can I do?

My Mama is the one altar I’ve ever worshipped. Who do I ask to avoid wasting her? My Tattle App buzzes with an incoming video name. I don’t know why I solution yet I do.

“Auntie Wah,” I whimper.

“Auntie Wata,” my aunt stresses the correction. “Did they finish her?”

 Mama continues to struggle but–even if I you ought to be optimistic–she’s shedding. I shudder.

“Did they finish her?” Auntie Wata calls for. “No longer but,” I say. I’ve by no means felt concern nevertheless it has me now.

“Have a look at me,” her voice is harsh. “The steamboat doesn’t have the magic to get Coyote and Spider there in time. And John Henry’s hammer isn’t rapid sufficient.” Her spectral symbol rises up and out of my telephone. “You gwaan assist your mama.”

“How?” I ask.

“The Oblits bind our tongues with a purpose to erase us,” she says. “Inform her tale in order that they can't eat her.”

“I don’t know her tale.”

 “Since you don’t pay attention, bebe.” Auntie Wata shakes her head, “You had been raised in our mild yet you don't see our shine.” Once I’m silent, she says, “Make one thing up! How can we–black, brown, and golden–go on if we're silenced?”

Am I allowed to make up my very own tales, ones which are mine? I’ve by no means considered that sooner than. But when I will be able to then…

I swipe to open a brand new tale on Tattle. The usage of a caricature I drew of Mama, I inform my fans a few captivating, mythical, wild-haired, badass, black rabbit from the South. The reaction is fast.

11 likes and the sound rumbles again into the store. 8 feedback and Mama’s chortle bubbles up from underneath the pile of attackers.

1440 likes, 401 stocks, 88 feedback. Unwritten our bodies damage into the partitions. The tea is going flying.

As my tale is going viral, Mama fights her method up from underneath The Oblits. Spinning, she shreds the remaining line of the onslaught. This time the confetti is a party.