Black Girls Glow: It takes a Whole Orchestra
No one can whistle a symphony. It takes a whole orchestra to play it." – H.E. Luccock
Black Girls Glow (BGG) is an initiative to foster collaborations among women artists and explore ways that art can build community.When I received a mail that I had been selected to participate in this year’s BGG Residency program, my anxiety kicked in faster than the joy of such good news. I did celebrate and share the news with close friends but not after attempting to keep my heart steady over having to take on such a new experience with five other talented ladies who may or may not look, talk, dress or think like me.That was the fear- having to be different and odd and ultimately not fitting in. Turns out, we all were pretty different from each other and even while I had grasped the unsurprising plot twist about our differences, some part of me still wanted to identify the one line that runs through us all so I could simply pull on it, tug on it like it were some kind of a crutch.My yearning to belong is extreme. It’s almost always the first thing I look forward to when I walk into a room- acceptance, a love language I can speak and understand. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to belong and be seen. I’m starting to realize it only becomes a challenge when I make a chain of it; when I make myself captive just because I find myself in a different environment which is neither too familiar nor conforms to my idea of a favorable reality. The moment I start to value my worth based on the spaces I fill and the arms that open to receive me is the moment I give people and places the power to validate my truth, my value, my gifts.Thankfully I found myself not having to shed any skin to fit in. I can’t find the words to describe how safe a space it was during my time at the residency, especially when it came to reaffirmations and cultivating a steady confidence in myself as a creative. It was almost as though everyone had a power button to push down the moment doubt and low self esteem started to creep in. If I passed a negative comment about a poem I had written, I received five compliments. If I expressed a fear to do something, an unbelief in my capacity, every voice speaking was aimed towards lifting me up. Simply put, every darkness I was carrying had been overwhelmed with such light, every doubt I bore was erased by their growing faith in me. This is what community has been all along and it was sweet and kind and still hard.Hard because I’ve gotten used to talking myself down so much that when someone is offering something good, it’s hard to stretch my hand and accept it. But with time, things got clearer and now I know their persistence in speaking good things over my life was not because I didn’t know these things but because I couldn’t accept that I was deserving of them. Deserving of the beauty, deserving of the skill to write, deserving of the reward of creativity, deserving of light, love. And looking back, I am most grateful for that experience. When ladies from different backgrounds gather together to speak the beauty in each other’s life and call out the lies we feed ourselves, there’s growth, there’s change, there’s power and most importantly, there’s life.At the residency, there were small creative group sessions, Duos & Trios, where I was paired with other fellows to create art within 15 minutes. Now that was definitely a challenge in so many ways. First, I’ve not had to work within such a short frame of time except when I’m trying to beat a deadline; even then, it sure exceeds 15 minutes! Over the years, I‘ve grown comfortable working with my own rhythm and flow as well as working alone. A typical creative process for me is sitting on my bed and writing drafts upon drafts until I read a poem out loud and like how it sounds. And that’s it, I have a work of art. But suddenly I found myself being put together in groups, everyone with a skill of their own. Some fellows sing, others rap and again, I wondered where my poem would fit in any of this. But of course there was room enough for every one.Everyday I’m convinced creative collaboration is an act of vulnerability. Having to step out of my comfort zone in the first place was me taking a leap despite the chances of falling. And then, having to break down my walls and let other creatives into my creative space (and I, theirs) was such a risk. In inviting people into our creative places, we’re inviting them into the rough drafts, into the messiness of undone poems and misplaced ideas and every single detail that goes into the work. This can be especially hard for a generation that praises perfection and the flawless presentation of our lives. I didn’t have the time in the world to polish up my craft, make it look good, brush off all the dirt and show off a shiny poem. I had to do the hard work with them. They got to see my hands get dirty as theirs, got to see me crossing off lines that didn’t fit and think of better ways to write down an idea. They walked right into the creative mess as I did theirs. It was raw, revealing, challenging but also, fulfilling, full and I’ll admit, not so lonely.Vulnerability is even more tough in collaborations when we trust people with our work so much that they get to have a say on how the craft should turn out. The last day before the residency, there was an amazing bonfire where we got to sit round and listen to every piece we created. In one, I was asked if I could trim down a poem to make the full piece fit within the standard duration of a track. Now here’s why this was hard: I was confident every line in my poem was well thought of, each very relevant to the telling of the full story. Having to remove chunks of one’s work feels as though some parts of the poem’s body is being cut off- which is really what happens. It was a tough decision but one that had to be done to create the masterpiece we all wanted. It spoke so much about making room just as had been made for me.After everything was over and we were bundled together heading back to our separate homes, I kept thinking about how different this experience would mean to each of us. For me, more than coming together to create a brilliant piece of art, I have been challenged to grow out of myself, my comforts. To show up and do the hard work- even if it scares me, even if it isn’t fun, even if it only gets messier. There’s more to lose in doing nothing at all than doing something little.
None of us, including me, ever do great things. But we can all do small things, with great love, and together we can do something wonderful." – Mother Teresa
