Projects In a Pecan Shell

I move work in various ways that always center on my people. My people are educators, farmers, Black folk, poor folk, queer and trans people, and people who have and continue to make a way out of no way. 

Throughout my work as an activist, storyteller, and researcher, I have a reverence for the past and its influence on how it can propel us forward. I also have a deep love for the South as a place; as an "Afro-Carolinian," a term I learned from Michelle Lanier, South Carolina is my home, and North Carolina has become my nesting ground.

I remain rooted in the South as a place, but I also find myself feeling rage, grief, and yet, hope. As James Baldwin says, "to be Black in America and be relatively conscious is to be in a rage almost all the time." And I am infuriated, mad, pissed off at so much of what I see and its impact on folks who live on the margins.  I have lost so many people and loved ones due to violence, illness, or time. Much of how I navigate the world is with them on my heart and mind -- every pen stroke, tap on a keyboard, or word spoken is a testimony to all they have poured into me. My work also gives me hope; in every space I curate, whether written, verbal, or visual, I have hope in those who show up, who listen, and who share their truth. 

These people, feelings, and places move my work in unexpected ways, with the hope that someday we will all be free.