This weekend was important. It was a turning point for the body politic, and for the way I choose to inhabit my own.
Dramatic. But, hear me out. The truth is, the weight of the last few years has been immense. The political climate has felt like a slow suffocation, a systemic illness, and a collective burnout seemed inevitable. Then, this weekend, the air changed. The fever felt like it broke.
The Body Politic in Convulsion
By mid-week, the threatened immigration raids had reached a critical mass, sending the nation into a spasm of anxiety. In response, the “No Kings Day” protests—organized against the administration’s hollow military spectacle—felt like the body politic finally mounting its own immune response. It was a volatile moment that could have tipped toward disaster.
Instead, millions showed up. They showed up for democracy, forcing the administration to reverse its aggressive I.C.E. initiative. It was a collective convulsion with a purpose. As comedian Josh Johnson has joked, America is “down to like three laws,” and it seems the national body, finally feeling enough pain in enough of its limbs, was jolted into action. The shift is tangible, an antibody reaction happening in real-time.
Embodying the Prescription
As the nation was beginning to heal itself, I was on a flight, thanks to a Foundation for Contemporary Art Emergency Grant, to engage in a healing practice of my own. I was set to perform “High John de Conqueror” at the Underground Railroad Education Center in Albany, a site where the memory of bodies seeking freedom is embedded in the very soil.The performance itself was undergoing a transformation. But the most vital change was the formalization of my Storyteller. In a time of profound national sickness, it felt inadequate to be an informal narrator; it felt necessary to embody a healer. And so, Aja was born. Named for the Yoruba orisha of the forest, herbs, and healing, Aja is not just a character; she is an answer, a prescription. By giving her a name, a costume, a defined presence, I move the work from performative reportage into an immersive, healing journey. It is my body as an artist, attempting to write a prescription for the wounds I see.
Building a Sovereign Body
This work—this research, this travel, this embodiment—is all-consuming. It requires a stability that is antithetical to the precariousness this economy imposes on artists. And the simple, humbling truth is that none of it would be possible without my partner.
Our partnership is its own act of resistance. It is a conscious effort at world-building. We, two Black mothers, are building a pocket of sovereignty, a sustainable ecosystem for our family and my work that allows for creation in a hostile world. We are not just surviving in this climate; we are modeling an alternative. This sovereign, familial body is the foundation that allows my artistic body the strength to do its work. It is the most powerful and freeing act I know
This weekend, democracy knocked. In every corner of the country, the collective body of America answered. I couldn’t be prouder.
Join the Work
This is an invitation to become part of this collective body of resistance and healing.
- Subscribe to the email list to follow the research and join the conversation around the folktale project and Tracing Scars, Mapping Healing.
- A Call for Black Women in Albany: The healing work of Aja begins with us. I invite you to participate directly by registering for our upcoming workshops. Let us build this community and explore our stories together.
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