I feel like a black militant taking over the government/can’t turn my back on the hood/too much love for them/probably end up back in the hood… Nas
Always had a sort of hankering to say that about my home. I feel that way. No matter the cycles my life has taken, no matter the cities I’ve lived in, no matter how clean the suburbs or how white the church buildings I’ve entered in for worship appeared, there was always this feeling…it’s like a swift wind that passes by on a summers night. It’s telling you that fall is on its way, the season has changed. That it has.
Home to the hood – at least for a moment. Home to my beautiful nieces, one I have yet to meet and two who are growing so quickly, it literally makes me cry. One has fancied her aunt ‘N’ to have “made it out.” Ha! On to talk about what that means to her and to entertain her strange interest in Marilyn Monroe? *sigh* Anticipating hugging my mother more and being a part of God’s redemptive plan for my city.
