Inpower Institute Insights

Jamaica was… Like golden brown, homemade pie crust That your Mothers’ Mothers made And the secrets to all its ingredients were Warmly Instilled in YOU. Riding through the mountains on June 23, I realized that if I was in America I would have been afraid. A van load of black folks traveling through rural areas would not be safe. But this was not the woods. We were in the Tropics. We were home. Stopping off in a small town to get water. I was greeted with smiles and called “Sistah.” Jamaica in the mountains felt like a family reunion that happened everyday, and we did not have to be introduced to each other. We all knew we had met before. On the pilgrimage to Accompong, I couldn’t help but notice that the trees’ leaves had skin like ours – vibrant and smooth. I had even been bitten by ants the night before, but my skin was alright. I itched, but I could see and feel how much my skin and hair held all the coconut oil, water, and sun….so I was happy and felt beautiful. As we experienced the fresh food, I thought to myself that God must be a Queer Black Woman the way the fruit tasted and the juices spill, drenched my body, like I was being baptized in the sensual rivers of the Earth’s sweet touch. Only SHE could’ve made that fruit taste that good and flow that way. All I could think of is how I and the woman I love must taste…like pineapple, sour sop, mango, passion fruit, and that tsunami melon, each presenting me with its gifts of vibrancy, clarity and intention in every bite. Jamaica brought me HOME. Within myself With my Kindah Happily, Organically, Maternally, Energetically – H.O.M.E. I learned how to Come Back