Sit A Spell

We gingerly choose our seats throughout our life. Sometimes we are trying to avoid sitting next to someone. Sometimes the seat does not look inviting or comfortable to our gifts. Sometimes the seat looks perfect and inviting and we rush to it before someone figures out it is open. Sometimes we sit to be by ourselves in deep solitude. Sometimes we sit at a table to speak up for people that do and do not look like us. Ultimately, the seats we choose offer each of us a different view and vantage point of all around us.

12 years ago, I hated everything I saw around me. I was a freshman at Wellesley College experiencing some awful culture shock and deafening imposter syndrome. I was walking around campus at night and I called my mom and told her that they had made a mistake letting me in this place. I never felt I could keep up with the boarding school-trained valedictorians I was in class with. My mom told me that there was a reason why I was there and that even if my path there looked different from others, I deserved to be there and that my story at Wellesley was not over yet. At the time, I did not believe her but I stayed, adjusted, and fought hard to finish and graduate on time with a 3.4 GPA which is no easy feat at an institution that proudly promotes its grade deflation policy.

12 years later, I found myself back at my collegiate alma mater standing at the same exact place where I called my mom. So many things have happened since then. I got my Ph.D. and became an Assistant Professor in the middle of a pandemic that had brought unending heartbreak, grief, and loss to the entire globe. I walked past that patch of the quad, walked into Green Hall, and gave a lecture on the love of Black women and girls. I was incredibly nervous but did an amazing job. I was able to talk to current students of color and tell them my story, not just the perfect ending but about the self-doubt that still lingers and the second chances, I had been afforded along the way that led me to be back on campus to speak to them.

I walked back outside at twilight and found a green lawn chair and sat a spell on that formidable plot of the quad where I almost gave up on myself. I called my mom to ask if she remembered that memory we shared. I told her that we made it through together and I made it back and I was better. I thanked her for talking me off the ledge and for honoring my worth way before this institution could see the gifts in intelligence I had inside of me. I got off the phone and took a deep breath. I realized that that scared little Black girl was still inside me but she was no longer alone. My black woman self sees her, comforts her, and can let her know that we make it intact but not alone. So many people along the way offered us good love, healthy choices, and second chances (Laymon, 2013) and that is the spell that we are able to chant daily and gift to others in turn.

Our newest exhibit at the museum is tasking you to do the same to “Sit-A-Spell” and honor your inner child, attend to the grief and rage inside of you, and revel in your many joys and victories. We encourage you while at the museum to take a selfie of yourself sitting with the hashtag #SitASpell or complete our google form for us to keep an archive of the seats you choose to take up. Also, use that same hashtag, #SitASpell, and google form can be used for you to write down any affirmations, micro poems, or spells you might want to share with other colored girls. We have some exciting ideas to share back your photos and words with you.

Whether you come to the museum soon or not, we hope that you find rest, refuge, and reflection in the seats that you take up today, and know that when you are ready that they are special seats at TCGM prepared, waiting for you.