So my boy wrote this in his status:
“Name” is queer and brown. today is indigenous people’s day and national coming out day. you betta believe this jota is takin the day off. shout out to all the jotitas coming into their own skin. adelante mij@s!
So, that if anything, lifted me up this morning/afternoon. This is the type of inspiration that I don’t get from graduate school. The type of inspiration that comes from the trenches, that comes from the heart, the gut, the soul, the pit of your stomach … the inspiration that’s bold and demanding. The fight in the struggles of queer communities, the fight in black folk before black folk got comfortable, the fight in community projects where your hands get dirty, your body gets sweaty, it’s hot out, the sun’s out, your white shirt is now gray black brown – useless in any other situation that doesn’t require you being dirty! Shit! That’s the type of inspiration I want … and man, I love the privilege that this place gives me but this place has no heart. It has no soul. It just is what it is, no root, or at least not a root that I’ve been culturally and historically a part of. Whose torch am I fuckin carryin? … anyway, this is it for now.