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A golden glory

Oh Freedom, oh freedom, oh freedom over me. And before I'd be a slave I'll be buried in my grave and go home to my lord and be free. 

Freedom. Desired by all. Born to few. After having visited the Old Slave Mart Museum in Charleston, SC I am now reminded of how fragile the idea of freedom truly is. How vaguely far the concept must have seemed to my enslaved ancestors. How quickly the dream of freedom could collapse, within an instant taken away. I think of myself. A Black Woman. Intrigued by the past. Amazed by the strength of my people. Saddened by a golden glory hijacked. 

I descend from a long line of people whom were stolen from their home land. Forced into slavery, then cut loose on a world and society that would make them out to be violent, ignorant and worthless. I come from a culture so rich and full of rhythm and soul and struggle and strength. A people so vast yet so tight knit. A culture who's future would be hijacked. 

Freedom. Desired by all. Born to few. But what does it mean to be free? One fact to be evident and true; the mind of the black is strong, enduring, and able to withstand hundreds of years of oppression. But Mental freedom, that's a tough concept to grasp. As a black woman, I never knew I could have mental freedom. That the bondage of insecurity and self worthlessness could be lifted. That I could break free from the chains that society has placed on me. That I could love me, for me, with every inch of me. To love you, with all of you is to be free. 

Millions of young black girls suffer from mental bondage. They feel worthless. They feel inferior. Society tells them that they are lesser because of their golden, chocolate skin. That somehow their melanin makes them insignificant. They belong to a culture that labels mental illness as an unimportant fantasy- a myth. And then these same girls are expected to live fulfilling and glorious lives. Yet they have no true hope. No true freedom. They are free to come and go as they please, a luxury not granted to our ancestors, but social and mass media confine them to mental cages. They dream
of the freedom to be who they want to be, to do what they want to do, to be great and prosperous and successful. They hope for a life with a golden glory.

The power of the black woman, in particular, is mighty if only it can be channeled. The coming together of Black Women is significant. It signifies and symbolizes support. It builds a community of beautiful brown ladies who want to love and uplift each other. It gives hope to those of us who struggle with loving ourselves. It shows us that it is possible to be black and free. Free from depression, from social oppression, from insecurities and self hate and labels placed on us by those who donot understand us. 

Generations of black women were plague by slavery. They were born into bondage. Their worth deminished. Their dignity stolen. And yet they persevered. They kept their spirits high. They dreamt of freedom for their children's children. We owe it to those women to break free of mental disease. To love ourselves with all our might. To uplift one another. 

Freedom. Desired by all. Born to few. I descend from a people physically bound, yet mentally empowered. I am a member of the society of black women who love and encourage and uplift one another. Who donot tear down their fellow sisters. Who want to see other girls find mental freedom. The black woman is centuries worth of strong. She is bronzed. She is supernatural. Her glory is golden.

This post first appeared on Me, Myself And Symone, please read the originial post: here

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A golden glory


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