Dec 16, 202013 min read

Griot Girls Issue 2: The Things We Carry!

A Word from the Griot Girls

Tis the season for reflection. The Griot Girls have spent much time reflecting on the traditions that have shaped us. Traditions that we hope to document, practice, and continue through our writing, art, and daily lives. We hope you enjoy this reading of our Griot Girls family traditions and ultimately "The Things We Carry!"

In community,

The Griot Girls

Featured Writers & Artist

Autumn Livingston Cevyn Wiggins

Ife Islam

Ishtar El

Isys Nelms

Jasmine Hawkins

Khaliah Pitts

Madison Proctor

Lishele Liyuowork

Laila Poe

Sabriaya Shipley

Stories of Tradition

Happy Birthday

By Isys Nelms

¨May god bless you, may god bless you, may god bless you, may god bless you!¨ Sung to the tune of the birthday song-- not the Stevie Wonder version, but the boring one-- this song was a source of discomfort for Aldyn every year. They were, among other things, an atheist, so the very basis of the song did not align with their beliefs. However, this addition had been tacked onto the end of the traditional birthday song for as long as Aldyn had been alive, and so they endured it. It was, after all, tradition.

¨Happy birthday baby girl!¨ Aldyn's mother threw open the curtains in her youngest child's room and they responded with a groan, burrowing deeper underneath their blankets. ¨Not a girl, mama¨, they said. Their mother sighed and left the room, calling over her shoulder, ¨You need to get up! It's nearly noon, and I know it's ya birthday but people are coming over at two and your behind is not gonna be looking like ya just woke up when they do!”

Grumbling, Aldyn sat up and rubbed their eyes, then yawned and flopped back onto the bed. Happy birthday, they said to themselves. One year closer to getting out of this train wreck. Only two years to go. Whoopee.

¨Ding dong, open up lil sib!¨ Aldyn grinned. It was exactly two o´clock and, just as they had assumed, Alyssa was right on time. They opened the door and were immediately enveloped in a crushing hug, courtesy of their oldest sister.

¨Happy birthday my little squish! How've you been?¨ Grabbing her hand, Aldyn led her to the kitchen, shrugging off the question. ¨You know how it is. I´m fine, dad is fine, mom is...mom. She called me ´baby girl´ this morning, so that's...well at least she didn't call me Ashley.¨ They fake-shivered in disdain, avoiding the concerned look on Alyssa's face.

¨So yeah, nothing out of the ordinary. It's been fine, I've been fine, and now I'm great because you're here.¨ Aldyn smiled and Alyssa smiled tentatively back. ¨Did you talk to mom...or dad considering how she can be, about the song?¨ Sighing, Aldyn bit into a peach to avoid answering the question, because no, they had not, and they honestly did not plan to.

Clearly, Alyssa could tell, because she said, ¨Aldyn babe, you have to say something. It's your birthday; if you don't want our entire family blessing you with the will of god over your cake, you can say so. To hell with tradition, it's your day, love.¨ Aldyn smiled and shrugged. ¨It's fine Lyss, they can bless me if they want, it won't change anything about me. No blessing can make me less gay, and it definitely won't make me Ashley again, so I´m not pressed.¨ Alyssa grinned and wrapped her arms around Aldyns neck, then kissed them on their forehead and left the kitchen.

The doorbell rang and, sighing, Aldyn went to answer it.¨Happy birthday dear Ashley, happy birthday to you! May god-

¨Stop.¨ Every head in the crowded dining room that wasn't already trained on Aldyn turned to look at them. Their mother scowled, and Alyssa smiled encouragingly. ¨First of all, my name is Aldyn. Not Ashley. Which I have told everyone here before. Secondly, I don't want god to bless me. I don't believe in god, which most of you know as well. I haven't said anything because I didn't want to be disrespectful, but, as someone rightfully pointed out earlier, it's my birthday and if I don't want to be blessed, that should be my choice. And I'm definitely not going to sit here and let all of you call me the wrong name and try to bless me.¨ They took a deep breath, then closed their eyes and blew out all sixteen candles on their cake. ¨Happy birthday Aldyn,¨ Alyssa said.

The Golden Child

by Lishele Liyu0work

Nobody likes Thanksgiving. It’s just some racist propaganda made by white people to pretend that they didn’t completely decimate the Native American population. But here we are, my entire family gathered together to celebrate this BS holiday. The way this family’s adults gather together for the sake of “tradition” is appalling. They all hate each other and force their children to go through this trauma year after year.

“Whatever mom, I’m leaving,” Denise stomps down the stairs headed for the door.

“Get your sorry, ungrateful ass back here!” screams her mother.

“Why?! So we can hurt each other year after year?”

“Yes!” she yells. Denise raises her eyebrow in defiance.

“How about Denise stays for dinner and then, if she wants, she can leave.” proposes Houston. Houston was Denise’s older brother and the only thing keeping her and their mother from murdering each other.

“Fine.”

“Perfect.”

“Extraordinary.”

“Absolutely marvelous.”

“That will be all ladies!”

Denise’s mother stomps off into the kitchen, and Denise heads into the living room with the rest of us.

We, the adolescents, shower her in applause and she takes a bow.

“Thank you, thank you. I’d like to give recognition to our cousins Evelyn and James for teaching me the importance of calling out your parents for their lack of utter common sense.”

Evelyn and James, twins who are twenty years old but still refuse to cross the threshold and go with the adults, much to their aging parents' shame. They stand up, wave their hands and another wave of clapping erupts.

“We’re home!”

Everyone rushed over to see Lisa the golden child. She is practically infallible in the eyes of our grandparents, which therefore means that she is infallible in the eyes of the rest of the adults in this family. I used to envy her, but now looking back on it to be the object of such an intense adoration and affection is something you can rarely escape from. In the end I suppose she did escape, at a great cost but freedom nonetheless.

“And guess who I brought.” Out pops some basic white boy’s head.

“Ah Peter! How good of you to come.” exclaims Grandpa.

“Um, mom why is he here?” I say.

“Oh did your sister not tell you? This is Peter.”

“Well obviously. I’m asking why no one told me he was coming.”

“Hi I’m Peter,” Peter warmly extends his hand.

“No shit Sherlock, of course you’re Peter.” His jaw practically dropped. He began looking at me like he expected something more.

“Do you need something?”

“What the actual hell J?,”

“What the actual hell Lisa? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to bring someone to Thanksgiving?”

“Because I knew that you would act this.”

“Well duh. Of course I’m going to act like this. I thought you actually liked the guy.”

“Well of course I like Peter.”

“Remind me, why wouldn’t she like me?” asked Peter.

“Not now!” Lisa and I said in unison.

“I just didn’t know you were such a sell out.” I say in the pettiest way possible.

“Excuse me? How dare you call me a sell out!”

“Next thing you know, you’ll be listening to country music like the rest of this gaggle of elderly idiots.”

Silence

“Oh my god. You listen to country music now.” Denise snickered and tried to mask it with a cough.

I storm up the stairs and Lisa follows me. I try to slam the door as I head into my room but she is able to slip in before me.

“Please J.”

“Why are you here.”

“Please, just let me explain. I need your help.”

*The idea is that is where the first "chapter" ends

Defining Family

Traditions...Or Lack Thereof

By Ishtar El

Every year my family celebrates at least two holidays. Usually, it’s Halloween and Thanksgiving; Halloween was truthfully a holiday shared by my aunt and me. For most years I can remember, before middle school, my aunt made my costume. There must have been two Halloweens where I was a “Monster High” character, one being Frankie Stein and the other being Claudeen Wolf. She made me gloves with fur on them when I was Claudeen Wolf. My aunt, Sarah, also took me trick-or-treating a lot; she made sure I said “trick or treat,”“please,”and “thank you.”There were a few years we watched dancers in Clark Park perform “Thriller” by Michael Jackson. Every time I got home I would have to give some of my candy to my grandma, my mom, and my aunt; they called it “mommy tax” and “auntie tax” and so on so forth. My aunt also wasn’t fond of choosing to wear store-bought costumes, hence making my costume most years, which was unbelievably cool now that I look back. My aunt would go on websites and find materials to order like solid colored tights, and would make my costume from scratch. One year I wanted to be an holographic alien and my aunt tried to get supplies for it. I switched the costume I wanted at the last minute and got in trouble, I don’t recall celebrating Halloween that year. I believe that was the end of our tradition, but it was one I loved and always enjoyed.

For Thanksgiving, we usually went to our cousin Annie’s house. She would get food catered and the stuffing became my favorite over time, it’s become what I look forward to about Thanksgiving. Honorable mentions would be mashed potatoes with gravy and the cherry pie. Annie is on my mom’s side of the family, so I really only saw those cousins for the holidays. My favorite cousin to see was Lily, she’s only a year younger than me or 11 months to be specific. She’s also the closest cousin to my age that I was able to see most since she lives in Philadelphia. Outside of and during Thanksgiving we had a game called “The Rainforest Game” and we’d pretend we were adventurers that lived there and traveled around to fight bad guys. We incorporated the show “Avatar: The Last Airbender” into our story. When we spent Thanksgiving at Annie’s, my mom, grandmother, aunt, and I would stay at the Marriott hotel which was another one of my favorite parts. I loved/love staying at hotels just because they’re fancy and clean, and the beds are always so soft. At the Marriott, we’d have breakfast with Annie before we headed home, and it was a buffet which always made me happy.

There were also some Thanksgivings where we’d collectively go to the Blue Pig Hotel/Tavern in Cape May with our cousins. I remember liking it there and spending a lot of my time with Lily. The hotel had a mascot which was a blue pig and I think I was actually scared of it, but Lily danced with the mascot. Due to Covid this year, we couldn’t travel anywhere, so we had dinner with my family and my mom’s boyfriend’s family. I got to help my mom make salmon cakes which was very fun, but I still was grossed out when I had to mince the salmon and touch it in any way. My mom and her boyfriend made greens, baked mac n’ cheese, and wings. I was full by the time I started my mac n’ cheese.

Instead of Christmas, my mom and her friends came up with celebrating the Winter Solstice instead. We used to go up to the poconos or just gather with our friends; the parents would give us our gifts and we’d just hangout. That tradition stopped a few years ago and my mom and I started going to the Winter Solstice potlucks that my best friend’s family had.

From my point of view, our traditions are usually temporary, but I’m always happy during them. During every tradition’s phase I was with my family one way or the other, and that’s always the theme or base, so I’m always satisfied with them. If they ever stopped, those holidays wouldn’t be enjoyable in any way. I’m grateful for the people who shaped each one and spent it with me.

Weighted

By Mizz Jazz

I wonder what it is

the way weight finds home

on my shoulders

lower back

& ankles

throws itself

‘round my stomach

rolls its burdens

‘cross my possibilities.

I wonder why this feels familiar

why my mother’s wrinkles mirror my own

wonder who felt it first

which of our mothers

picked up the world and called this living?

I wonder.

The Things We Carry

By Mizz Jazz

The things we carry show on our bodies.

Call it aging

pain

high cholesterol.

Call it out.

Call it anything at all;

I’ve seen what it’s like to go uncalled

learned how daddy’s forehead wrinkled

from childhood memories he couldn’t discuss,

from words pushed back in his mouth

by Beulah’s back hand or sharp eyes

from tears he was too masculine

too old

too big brother to cry.

I’ve learned how his callused hands hardened

how a body turns from boy to boulder

when bullies are the only way home

when football is the only hope for fun

& wrestling is the only way to grab control.

I’ve learned the importance of outlets

grabbed hold of a pen until the words dried

after wrinkles on my forehead became permanent fixtures.

Naming Ceremony

By Sabriaya

Name that baby patience

Cause she gon need it to deal with this harsh white world

Rub her chaffed cheeks with my holy oil

Made of roses like her middle name should be

Cause my sweet baby be a sweet flower

That I hope will bloom

Be a permanent bush in my garden

May she know her roots be strong

Matter of a fact name her Makeba

Cause my ten pound bag of sugar

Gon be a soldier

With war tactics hidden behind her dark brown eyes

May her words be bullets through constitutional white men

Through white women’s feminist mystique

No matter of fact name her Sabriaya

So her patience be hidden

And her strength be secret weapon

Of my sweet grand child

Even as she cries in my arms

A sign of life

A love I have never known

She has my smile

Might as well name her Gail

After proud grandmother

Who prayed for her

My beautiful granddaughter

I dreamed of you

Running through the fields of Virginia like your grandfather

Brown curls blowing in the wind never to be grey for my eyes

Laugh so loud it challenges gods thunder

Blasphemy on smart tongue

Oh this blessed child

I can see you

As you take first step and never stop moving

No matter how sore

When that first boy breaks your heart

And you weep on my daughters lap

Tho I may not be there

My spirit calms you

And you keep moving

As if you can’t stop

Dancing

Singing

Talking

Oh how I’m sure you will spend your whole life talking

But I will listen

Till my very last breath

I will listen

Remind you of your patience namesake

My Sabribri

How I love you

I love you

Never forget

Your grandma loves you

And you chubby thighs

The way you curve that upper lip

Dem piercing brown eyes

Thick eyebrows

And worldly smile

That knows not of this world

But will know of me

You will hear of me

You will hear me

The day you first fall in love and mean it

The day you walk across stage

Receive diploma

And a shiver runs down your back

The day you hold you own baby in your arms

And give her my name

I wonder what will you name her

And will my daughter name her

As I did you

WE / from

by Khaliah D. Pitts

from

the

ugly bits of lint

leftover from last lifetime

this current timeline

nothing but a wad of snuff

stuck behind your Auntie's lips

this

Nexus of

lovers lounging cross the berm of

lifetimes

from the

world we be spelled to fear

from here

the shadowy corners

they called wicked

the places

thick with ghosts

we sing in scientific notation

and bring

Us all

back home.

Black Woman Magic Passed Down

the BLACKest woman (story excerpt)

by Khaliah D. Pitts

At one time, there was no flesh. For me or my beings. I was less a body and more a sea, or a petulant gust of warm air. My beings danced along my currents, flitting in and out of my waves, diving deep into the bright light of my void only to come swimming back out the same way they came. My beings and I were all one, all a breath, a light and a piece of sand. Time brought to flesh. And then we grew. Grew beyond each other. We became different beings, different breaths, fractured and colored light, a whole coastline and then another coastline of sand. Time brings the primordial present and then hopes it forgets.

My Mother, The Sun

By Madison Proctor

The sun is a symbol of power, health, growth, passion, and the cycle of life. In a world where everyone is so bitter and shallow, the Creator saw fit to place the Sun on earth. The Sun lived a life full of verve, and showed the people on earth what love is. The Sun empowered others, the Sun was the greatest vitamin to people, the Sun spoke life over people, and showed people to simply just live freely and shine. The Creator was beyond pleased with all the Sun had done on earth, but the Creator also saw that there came a time when the people needed to be calm, and just breathe. So through the Sun, the Creator sent the Moon. The Moon was a walking late night breeze; the Moon showed people when to relax and take time for themselves. Together, the Sun and the Moon brought balance onto planet earth. The Sun and Moon both were able to shine in different lights. Their power, their magic brought the world true peace.

Heirlooms

Emergency Kit

By Madison Proctor

Emergency, a serious, unexpected, and often dangerous situation requiring immediate action.

It seems in these times we are living in, we know there will be need of an emergency kit but you just never know when. So, it is best to be prepared at all times. In my emergency kit, I would of course have the necessities, band-aids, flashlights, water, etc, but I would also pack the things in my life that bring me peace when I am in the midst of my own personal state of emergency.

The first thing I would pack with me is a picture of my family, the ones closest to me who know me inside and out, just seeing their faces would remind me of better times. The next thing I would pack would be my bible, my faith is a big part of who I am and it is a constant source of hope in my life. The very last thing I would pack would be my journal and favorite pen, writing is my passion and it is my way of clearing my head, writing takes me to a different universe, my writing is my freedom. That is my emergency kit, those are the things that are essential to me in a time of crisis.