Why I Write...

My great grandmother could not read and her daughter could not write. My mother passed me the pen and told me to fly. When I write, I unlock the diaries belonging to the hearts of all my mothers. I, most times unknowingly, explore the pain and pleasures of Black womanhood. I am sure this is my calling, though once upon a time, I was too hesitant to accept it. Brown, Black, skin coated in ebony… Girl, Woman, a Female I am. I did not always find these to be my attributes but rather my downfalls. No one wants to hear the echoes of Black womanhood. But this is the responsibility that I was given when I stumbled across words.