Skip to main content

Black Woman


Black woman
         Black woman
Black woman

Why you gotta be so strong, huh?

What is it about your make up
Your makeup
          Your make up

That makes you care so much
That makes you love so deep
Your black people?

Black woman
          Black woman
Black.

     Black.

           Woman.

Why you gotta go to war, huh?

Why you gotta wave the flag?
What is it about your swag
That speaks power in the midst of defeat?--

That undermines toxic masculinity,
Even when it’s your brother?

With your body
You turn a pew into a pulpit--
A kitchen into a bible study--

Because your call for justice was never selfish.
It was never exclusive.
There is no cognitive dissonance in your
          proclamation of freedom.

     Black Woman
Black Woman

          Woman

               Woman

                    Woman


What is it about the way you
stir that cake batter in the basement
that saves our souls
long before the Black preacher man ever could?

Black Woman

       Black Woman


What is it about the way you lift your hands
and wave your white handkerchief
that makes us wanna
see Jesus face to face screaming:

“Into thy hands I commend my spirit.”


Black Woman!

     Black Mama,

   Black Auntie,

         Black Sister,

    Black Daughter,

Black Grandma,

    Black Mary:



What is it about the way you stretch your arms
in a powerful stillness
that lets the world know that
ALL black lives matter--
not just the ones who are respectable
not just the ones who conform to a gender binary
not just the ones who love each other in a specific way

But that your wingspan,
   Black woman,
your wingspan
is big enough
for all of us--

that your wingspan

          your wingspan

                    wingspan

is big enough to save us all
to love us all

Black Woman

What is it about the way you cradle us
Even when no one cradles you?

“Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top
When the wind blows the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks...”

The black woman falls.
     She falls.

Black woman.

What's in it for you, huh?

What’s in it for you?





Written and performed by Mia Michelle McClain
for the Womanist Proclamation and the Arts course
at Union Theological Seminary in New York City.
May 2018.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary?  That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente
Post a Comment
Read more

Why I Quit Church...

On Sunday I quit church... for the day, at least. It was the most beautiful and painfully passionate act of self-care I've ever done.   Hi. My name is Mia, and I live with an anxiety disorder.  It's 4:30 on Sunday morning. My first alarm intrudes on the three hours of sleep I've managed to acquire. I begrudgingly assess the state of my vocal cords and decide whether or not they are well enough for me to sleep another thirty minutes. I hit snooze. Minutes later, my second alarm assaults my rem cycle. I pimp-slap my iPhone and decide whether or not I'm going to steam (a process in which I stand over a pot of boiling water for fifteen minutes to lubricate my cords). I, instead, opt for the less time consuming process of making tea, buying me an extra fifteen minutes of sleep. at 5:15, my third and final alarm goes off. I roll out of bed and into the shower. As I lather, I do minor vocal warm-ups and meditate. It's 6:05. I'm clothed, tea is made, hair is done,
7 comments
Read more

Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake

  Cracked Eggs, Nerf Guns, and the Murder of Karon Blake At the time of my writing this, I am sitting in my big chair, staring at my front window from inside the house, looking at the drippings that have stained the glass from the eggs that some neighborhood kids hurled at my window almost two weeks ago. They were mad at me (I suppose) because they came to steal another package off my front porch in December, but they did not know that it was a package I’d planted with a note inside. I had them on camera stealing several packages on my block during the winter break, including one of mine that contained dog food (I know they were disappointed when they opened that one up ha!). Instead of calling the police or posting their faces on the many neighborhood apps, I decided to take an old amazon box, place a note inside, retape it and leave it on the porch. The note read: “God loves you. I care about you. Stop stealing packages. -Pastor Mac.” I wanted these 3 kids who look like they ar
Post a Comment
Read more