Kwanzaa 2011 and the New Year 2012

January 1 is the last of 7 days of Kwanzaa, a celebration of African and African-American culture, a tradition created in 1966 by Dr. Maulana Ron Karenga. Its roots have grown strong, nurtured by many who resonated with the idea that we descendants of Africa in the Diaspora are worthy of celebration, along with our culture and our ancestors. Its branches have extended out of the homes where Kwanzaa began into libraries, museums, community centers, schools, and even the media now include "Happy Kwanzaa" to well wishes for other traditions celebrated around the same time. Yet, much of its richness remains untapped, much of its potential fruit, unripened. I speak here of the principles of Kwanzaa, the heart of this celebration. They are at the core of how we have survived as a People, flourished even: Unity, Self-Determination, Collective Work and Responsibility, Cooperative Economics, Purpose, Creativity and Imani.

I have been blessed to be part of a community of friends and family over the years who have pursued these values in our living and share a commitment not only to our immediate community but our larger community. Each of us in our own way has attempted to add to the beauty of our community, small and large, to add to the healing in our community, mindful that there remain many who live on the margins of survival, of feeling connected and valued, and even of feeling human. We have raised our children to feel connected to and care about our immediate and larger community and to bring that mindset and heart to their chosen work.

I once worked with someone who said to me, "Love is the most powerful force in the Universe."

Over and over, I find it so true. And a communal love that includes love of self and love of the collective can part the fiercest fog of oppression, and dissipate the ugliest of self-destruction. To love is to value oneself, to know in one's marrow that you have a place at the Divine table that is not earned, but freely given, despite all the messages coming at you that it's money, title, brand of sneakers or muscle mass that bestow your worth.

In 2012 it is my hope that the branches of Kwanzaa will reach deeper into our communities with a purpose to empower more of us to resist the mentality of street life, to make a way (as we always have) through and around the brush/the predatory landscape/and the pain of so many losses to something that affirms our value, a deeper love, a wider loving.

In 2012, it is my intent to love with both a ferocity and gentleness as called for, and to open more fully to receiving the abundance of love in the Universe.

Ase.

Kwanzaa -- The Principle Ujima

Today is the third day of Kwanzaa. The principle is Ujima, the Swahili word for collective work and responsibility. When I reflect over the year to when I observed this principle, my mind goes to the last weeks of my mom's life. So many of us -- family, friends, hospice workers, pulled together to enjoy and honor her. One weekend stands out, one particular project -- taking down the king size bed my mom slept in, with her beloved king size electric blanket, and setting up the hospital bed that was to take its place. Bending over to care for mom had begun to take its toll on the back of the bubbly home care worker, Suzette. I had been put off by her at first--her super sunshiny manner--and she had suddenly replaced the Kenyan sister, Annie, I had grown to like. Who knew that I would fight to keep Suzette as long as I could, when the hospice nurse informed us that Suzette's agency did not allow her to give medicine? Suzette had so endeared herself in our hearts because of her loving way with mom. "I feel like a Queeeeeeeeen," mom had said one day after a foot massage.

The day of the bed dismantling the crew that assembled went to Cracker Barrel for Sunday breakfast, where we tossed around what to do with the king bed once it was down. Should it be put up in the other room, where two twins beds were, should one twin bed go into mom's room along with the hospital bed? Where would the components of the king size bed go, or the twin beds if disassembled? We're talking a 2 bedroom apartment here with a furniture filled den. These logistics may seem trite but with a variety of opinions and a need for a decision, it was an impressive task. But over food, the negotiations ended with an agreement that the king size bed would replace the twin beds in the other bedroom and mom's room would only hold the hospital bed--offering more room for visitors.

Back home, the labor began. My son-in law and son, took off their shirts and got to work. Mom was entertaining friends up front in the living room. My daughter, Annie,(there for the weekend), Bernadine, a family friend, and I turned our attention to the folded up hospital bed. Annie informed us it was an old model. Great. We didn't get far because we turned out to be in the way of the parts coming in. I was amazed how quickly that giant bed went down, followed by the twin beds. Slats, mattresses hugged the hallway but slowly Bernadine began stowing them, against the den wall, in the back of a closet,and behind the couch. That hospital bed proved the most difficult, for a good while we just couldn't figure out how to get the crank to work. But then Annie came up with the right placement of metal and niche.

It really did take a village that day. We worried that mom would not like her new accommodations but she responded well, and made it clear that the king size electric blanket meant more to her than the bed. So we folded it to fit her new bed.
UJIMA -- it felt good that day!

photo courtesy of The Insider