Abstract
Jobs are harder; days are longer; more is at stake—
(Our sons kept us each up half the night and there’s reading to do, data to clean…)
We are not complaining.
Mixed invisibility, queer-ed politics, feminisms of color—
(“Who are you and what are you bringing to our community?”)
Our identities are implicated and implicate us, too.
Conversations filled with shouts and whispers, exclamations of joy, sighs of sorrow—
Pain is part of this process; practitioner identity shedding/peeling/reeling;
A researcher will emerge.
Forms to sign, reports to write, funding to seek—
I am spinning, searching for my feet beneath me, swept up.
There is, however, a familiar rhythm to this grind.
It is the heartbeat of collaboration.
It is the momentum gained as purposes unite.
It is the theory driven by the flesh,
That listens from the heart to the questions that cannot remain unanswered.
It is accountability. Response-ability.
It is the powerful force generated by a
Womyn of Color in the Academy womyn-toring another
Womyn of Color in the Academy—
(sometimes struggling to breathe, sometimes desperate to sing)
Voices (re)telling herstories remembrances, hope.
She is schooling me as she dances, as she teaches, as she learns.
She is giving me more than she was given.
She hopes for more in return.
