Wombman, Dawta of the Most High, Mother, Dawta, Sister, Healer & Teacher.
Relationship Status:
My Heart is Free
I'd like to Meet:
All who trod in righteousness
My EarthAge is:
32
I am here to:
Reason with sistren and brethren about how to raise children consious of their roots but still connected to the European society they are living in.
Favourite Artist(s):
Queen Ifrica
Countries I been to:
Surinam, Venezuela, St.Maarten, St.Eustatius, Saba, Curacao, United Kingdom, United States, Germany, The Netherlands, Lugano
Places Id like to go:
Zion, Jamaica, Australia, Angola
Books:
The Goddess Blackwoman Mother of Civilization, Hoe duur is de suiker, Sacred Woman, Heal Thyself and many many more!
Movies:
One Love ;-)
Who Inspired InI:
My mother who as an indian/chinese woman still found it her duty to raise her Black children to be aware of who they are and what was sacrificed for them to be able to trod the world free
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.