create the room

I sit down with a group of elementary kids every week. These kids have walked through more challenges in their 8–10 years of life than I can comprehend some days. Each one comes from a broken home, some even to the point of experiencing homelessness. Before spending quality time with them each week I had begun noticing how tight of a bond these kids have developed with each other. I will never get tired of seeing how friendships progress in the 5th grade world, and how they justify having a new best friend every Monday morning. I do think it’s beautiful to see such young kids bond over the shared stories that society doesn’t even begin to admit happens in our under-resourced communities. Watching how similar experiences have led these students to consider their whole lunch table as “4-lifers” often makes me think of the ways in which we as adults choose those friends that turn into family and how we connect to the community that accepts us as we are. Although some people wouldn’t consider elementary friendships the most secure, I know a real bond when I see one and I knew these connections were something worth building upon.

So, regardless of the many topics we cover during these times, I always make it a point to seek how their day was. I’ve started prompting them with “On a scale of 1–10, how would you rate your day?” and each time I remind them that if they want to share why it was a 10 then they can do so, but if they rather say it was a .00001 and move on, that’s cool too. A couple weeks had passed when a handful of them told me how much they’ve started to love this time together. Matter of fact, one 10 year old interrupted a group discussion to say “I know you love when we get all descriptive and use our words but sometimes I don’t have the words to explain why it was a bad day…I just know it wasn’t my best and you guys always make me feel okay for not knowing why.” In agreement, another kid yelled from across the gym “Yeah! It’s kinda like y’all hear me out even when I’m not talking.” Then she paused and walked closer saying “Well, does that even make sense?” And one by one, we all shook our heads to show we were understanding her. Whether they realized it or not, what they were really saying is how they feel seen and heard regardless of what they choose to express. Now, did I shed a few tears after I clocked out that day? Of course. But after I wiped my face, I started thinking about how many of us — whether child or adult — deserve to experience that, as often as possible.

As adults, we are not exempt from the common predicament of lacking the words to fully express why our day, that job, this relationship or why our current season of life has us “feeling a way”. Choosing to outwardly express is challenging enough on it’s own, so wanting that expression to land in a space where it would be accepted is something we all desire — whether we know it or not. Not everything is expressed but what is, we hope to be accepted.

After a while of thinking I began asking myself why acceptance of expression is so important. Answering that question only led me to think about the power that lies within the black community, it’s the kind you can see and you can feel. The most beautiful quality about this community is its ability to outwardly express. Whether it’s in word, movement, or design, it never fails to paint this world so beautifully. I think that ends up being the most attractive force of it all — as I stated before — we all desire to find a place where we feel accepted. When we find those who provide safety, patience, and acceptance regardless of how much or how little we bring to the table of expression we have then found a space we can be free. We all have a role in making room for that freedom, we all have a part to play. It is easier said than done, but we know progress won’t happen until our intentions and our actions become the same thing. So we ought to remember that although it is expression that attracts us, it is the support we feel within that acceptance that keeps us. That combination serves as a safety net and if nurtured the right way, it can become a paradise for our fellow brothers, sisters, lovers and partners. I truly believe this is the way it should be, a community in its healthiest state reflects this in our closest friendships, our tightest circle, and our most trusted connections. If we’re calling it home, it should point us towards freedom. I often ask myself, how real is my liberation if my people are not by my side during my breakthroughs?

The breakthrough for the kids I work alongside is having vulnerable conversations with their classmates. Your next breakthrough might be opening up about a part of your story that you never thought your friends would appreciate. My next breakthrough might be sharing a piece of my work on a display for people. Everyday I’m learning that the sooner we create the room for real acceptance, the sooner we find real expression. When we freely express, we inevitably attract our people. As we find our people, we find paradise within a community that we’ve always needed.