8. Israelite Sugar: Ancestral Grief

“My grandmother never whupped us because she was angry or just because we had been disobedient. If we broke a vase or a window, she’d give us a talking to or, at worst, deny us peach cobbler at supper. She only whupped us when she felt we had put ourselves in danger, either physically or socially. (At the time, of course, I didn’t realize this.) Afterward, she would always explain why she whupped us and why we needed to be more careful.” (Resmaa Menakem, My Grandmother's Hands)

I remember being popped by my mother when I would say something out of turn. It was something that literally drove me crazy. She'd tell me to "come here" and she'd inch up and before you knew it, it was a quick "hand" to your mouth. It wasn't painful. It wasn't extreme. It was just what it was, a "pop". For some reason, I hated it. I hated feeling like I had to "be careful". I hated feeling like I was being reprimanded for expressing myself". We had a conversation years later long after the poppings had stopped. I asked her "Why did you used to do that?" She didn't say much in response, all she said was "you have to learn that not everything you're going to be able to respond to. You're not going to always be able to express your anger or your grievances and you're going to have to be ok with that." I didn’t realize too long after that what she meant. The way that grief shows up generation to generation is something that sits with us. It’s something that is a constant retelling and reliving. What my mother was saying as Resmaa’s grandmother was saying is that it’s dangerous to let the grief become a part of you. It’s dangerous to subject yourself to grief. That being black means learning to be careful with this grief. Being black is understanding that you’re going to have to be “ok at all times”. I think that is the biggest grief of our ancestors. It is the greatest grief of black folk.

“ In America, the black church has historically been a place of connection, comfort and political action- but it hasn’t been perfect”-Taylor Crumpton

As black folk we know that spirituality is a prominent gift that has been taught, exchanged and coached to us from childhood. From Baptism to laying to rest, we have always been taught to keep close spiritual relations with one another and with our higher power. For many of us, that being Jesus Christ. However, there has been much digging and exploration happening and black folks are realizing that spirituality for our folk was more polytheistic than we were led to believe. Many of our ancestors were “energy movers' ', many of who practiced alternative spiritual traditions like Santería, Hoodoo, Voodoo, and Brujeria. “Born out of enslavement in the Americas, these ancestral practices often infuse Christianity (and Catholicism) with West African spiritual traditions to provide a more affirming and healing experience.” -Crumpton

During enslavement, black folks relied heavily on spirituality as a means of endurance. In his interview “Black Spirituality”, Professor James Smalls explains “African spirituality has taught us to build a community character. That means to seek harmony with nature and cosmology as well as humans and your ecology.”

References:

AmadeuzTV, James. “Prof. James Small - What Is African Spirituality?” YouTube, YouTube, 1 Mar. 2022,

Crumpton, Taylor. “Finding Healing in the Spiritual Practices of Our Ancestors.” Shondaland, Shondaland, 2 Nov. 2021, https://www.shondaland.com/live/body/a28989067/finding-healing-i-spiritual-practices-ancestors/.

Menakem, Resmaa. My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies. Penguin Books, 2021.