There comes a time when I grow beyond saying: “That’s just old.” “Just something from back then.” “Just music, just fashion, just dancing.” No. O
There comes a time when I grow beyond saying:
“That’s just old.”
“Just something from back then.”
“Just music, just fashion, just dancing.”
No.
Our art is memory.
Bessie Smith Big Mama Thornton and Muddy Waters
Our art is survival.
Our art is intelligence carried through rhythm, color, fabric, voice, and movement.
When I study our cultural art — not casually, but with depth — I begin to see what so many others already discovered in us:
Depth.
Wisdom.
Imagination.
Spiritual power.
Joy that refuses to die.
Other cultures have been watching our work for generations:
They slow down with it.
They study it.
They protect it.
They let it add meaning not only to their art — but to their lives.
Meanwhile, many of us were taught to dismiss it:
“That’s outdated.”
“That’s embarrassing.”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.”
But as I mature, I understand:
That art carried emotions we weren’t allowed to speak.
That music held prayers no one wrote down.
Those dances helped bodies remember freedom.
Those films and fashions recorded how we loved, dreamed, grieved, and survived.
Our art was never “just entertainment.”
It was medicine when medicine wasn’t available.
It was dignity when the world tried to strip it away.
It was community, language, courage, humor, grief, and hope.
And it still is.
And I remind myself:
There is no need for me to feel lost
when I can look back at the ones who lived before me.
Their lives are lessons.
Their art is guidance.
Delta Blues Museum 7
Their creativity lights the path forward.
I choose not to resist those lessons.
I receive them.
I let them teach me who I come from, and who I can become.
Affirmation
I honor the art that shaped my people.
I study it with curiosity and respect.
I will not minimize what carried us through the storm.
I let myself feel the music.
Feel the paintings.
Feel the films.
Feel the dances — deeply, without shame.
Others already recognize brilliance in us —
and I choose to recognize it too.
Our culture is not frozen in time.
It is a living river.
When I learn from it, I find:
-
grounding
-
creativity
-
identity
-
meaning
-
connection
Everything I need isn’t far away.
It is right here — in my inheritance, my memory, my art.
I am done resisting what was meant to bless me.
I am growing.
I am rooted.
I am proud.
Our art is worthy.
And so am I.