Resurrection is Liberation!
Hey Family, It’s the most wonderful time of the yearrrrrrr….let the Easter fashion show BEGIN! Easter outfit–CHECK! Hair DID?! CHECK CHECK! IG photo shoot is starting in….5, 4. 3. 2…because if your family isn’t color coordinating on Easter Sunday, are y’all really doing it right? I don’t know about y’all, but my mother, Dr. Andrea Lena Maria Decuir Rye, is a legendary seamstress. She used to make us MATCHING outfits for Easter. She even made my Pamela doll a matching Easter outfit with us one year. I was laced (literally) all the way down to the white patent leather shoes and the white gloves. Sadly, I am lacking photo evidence of the matching, but not the memories (things the Tik Tok generation will NEVER say). Mommy: you already know this, but the outfits are just one reason you will forever be the real MVP! Back in the day, when Sunday School was not an option and singing in the youth choir was a rite of passage, our Easter experiences served as a kind of presentation to society. Easter speeches prepared us to articulate our voices and proudly share our words and brilliance with an audience, the applause served as an affirmation from a congregation full of faces that looked just like ours, and each Easter picture we took was not just a photo, but a snapshot of our growth throughout the years. For us, Easter is a time for a spiritual rebirth, a resurrection with a literal and figurative change to bring in new life. When I reflect on the power of God’s word and the ultimate sacrifice, I think about how liberating forgiveness can be, and the new life that comes through resurrection. These concepts begin with understanding and knowing that investing in yourself is the true meaning behind resurrection, and for me, one of the true meanings of Easter in the Black Church. The Black Church has a testimony, even in times in crisis, when inequities, racism, and supremacy are looking us in the eye, we have the ability to rely on our faith and the audacity to depend on the hope instilled in us by our ancestors. This Easter I invite you to be diligent in your words, diligent in your forgiveness and diligent in your spiritual, emotional and physical healing. I challenge you to step into a new season with the same precision, tenacity, and diligence we have when we step into the church with our perfectly curated Easter outfits. Forgiveness is Liberation One of my favorite Instagram profiles, Black Liturgies by Cole Arthur Riley, regularly SEES and speaks directly to the Black body. I am so grateful that my good sister shares her gift with the world. This post tells us how imperative forgiveness is–even for SELF! There is so much freedom in forgiveness, for yourself and for others. Forgiveness is a form of liberation that must all experience to fully appreciate life’s journey.. I say this to myself as I share this message with you: Forgive yourself for the moments you had when you didn’t know any better, allow yourself to feel what you need to feel, and leave it there, so that you may indulge in new experiences that will lead to an even better version of yourself. Redemption is Resurrection As many of us take this time to consider the power of the Resurrection, may we also remember the power of the cross. There are things in our lives that must die (literally and figuratively) in order for a rebirth to truly occur. Black people and people of color in particular have lived under the threat of martyrdom for too long. We have been conditioned to believe that our only power comes with our death–that our power is detached from our joy. Like seriously, JESUS ALREADY DIED ON THE CROSS FOR US, SO WHY ARE YOU KILLING US?! Well, that is another sermon for another day. While I am not saying that we will not regularly experience the pain that is associated with growth, I am saying that joy no longer has to be a distant miracle for us. As this year continues to give us opportunities to tap into, discover, and uncover the truest version of ourselves–may we see this important three part process as the resurrection we deserve. We cannot experience the new without shedding the old. We cannot experience the new while holding onto the past. We cannot experience the new by looking behind us. The resurrection is about trusting the present as a gift. The resurrection is about having faith that your latter days will be greater than your former. The resurrection is OUR new beginning. Welcome to YOUR Spring time! Sending you all the love, joy, freedom, justice, and power you can stand. Righteously and cheerfully, In Case You Missed It…
WHM: Black Girl Magic Edition
This one is for the ladies, resilient yet soft, powerful yet peaceful, smart yet wise. It’s Women’s History Month, and I can’t think of another way to finish up March then with the nomination of Ketanji Brown Jackson to the Supreme Court and the confirmation of Shalanda Young as the first Black Woman to lead the Office of Management and Budget. (shouts in happiness) As we seem to be knocking on the door to WWIII, we are also preparing for another historical battle with the US Senate for Ketanji Brown Jackson’s nomination. Be clear: she’s worth it. The possibility (and let’s speak this into existence) of confirming the first Black Woman for the United States Supreme Court gives me chills. And sis will be in several other battles right on the other side of taking that oath! Speaking of Ketanji Brown Jackson, when I reflect on the beautiful moments illustrated throughout the month, I feel so inspired. Inspired by all the women making waves this month, I must honor and show love to the women who inspire me. You know I have a long list of women who have pushed me forward, (there’s Queen Maxine, Empress Oprah, and of course, Harriet whose arrival we eagerly await on the $20), but I, wouldn’t be me, without these three impactful women: My mother When we talk about doing the work, my Mom has done the work. As an educator, activist, advocate and the backbone of my family, I cannot think of a stronger, more deserving person to honor this month than Dr. Andrea Rye aka Mama Rye (I love you, girrrrrl). Her peaceful, calm energy speaks volumes in any room. I am inspired by mother’s intelligence, grace, wisdom, and beautiful spirit. My namesake– Angela Davis is the bomb… And there’s a little of her spirit in me and so many of us. We are still on the journey, together, to demand everything that is owed to us, both as women and as people of color. I’m inspired by her devotion to the ongoing fight for real racial equity. I challenge each of us to tap into her spirit, and continue to change the things we can not accept. Shoutout to Papa Rye for naming me after this Queen! You! Now everyone who’s reading this may not identify as a woman (shoutout to all the family) but when I tell you I’m inspired everyday to keep fighting, keep growing and keep paving the way for you! You all have been cheering me on every step of the way. Thank you for inspiring me everyday. This month belongs to us ladies, and this month make sure you make yourself a priority. Take some time to show yourself and the women in your life some real appreciation. YOU DESERVE IT! I’m always inspired by the long standing support that communities of color gain from Historically Black Colleges and Universities. In February, I took my godsons on a college tour to some of the best HBCUs in the nation. In the midst of them being attached to their phones, and eating ALL the things, we were able to have some real discussions about their academic journey to college and the path after graduation. Thinking I was taking my godsons on a trip to teach them something, I came back feeling like they taught me a few things! (Do y’all know what “keeping it P” means? Now I do…I think! ) The next generation is full of creative, daring, ambitious youth who are ready to make the changes we have been fighting for. I’m inspired by their ability and resilience to march forward and pursue their dreams in life. As part of our own journey, we have to remember to keep inspiring the next generation coming behind us, just like those before us. Even when you think they aren’t listening, they are. On a personal note, February was a tough month since I spoke to you in our last newsletter. After missing for almost three weeks, I lost my beloved Uncle Jerry Rye. Although my grief is ongoing and filled with a range of emotions, I will continue to be inspired by Uncle Jerry’s passionate love for life. I want to personally thank everyone for their thoughts, messages and prayers for my family. I’m beyond grateful for the love and support you have shown me throughout this difficult time. To be Black, elder and presumed poor should not be a fast track to being ignored, and unfortunately, this story is not personal to my Uncle Jerry. There are so many missing people of color whose story has been completely ignored. To honor Uncles Jerry’s memory and to honor him on what would have been his 78th birthday on March 15, please donate to the Black and Missing Foundation, Inc. BAMF is a non-profit organization whose mission is to bring awareness to missing persons of color. I’m inspired by their continuous work to put the spotlight on the inequities around educating minority communities on personal safety. Sending you all the love, joy, freedom, justice, and power you can stand. Righteously and cheerfully,
Black History is Black Love.
It’s February, Black History Month This month is all about us. The year is too… but I digress. Reflecting on what Black History means has me reflecting on my love for the culture, love for the people, love for family… Black Love. The concept of Black Love has sustained black people throughout some of the most challenging parts of our history and too often we don’t give ourselves enough credit for loving on each other the way we do. The truth is, you can not adequately discuss the significance of Black History without talking about the undeniable presence and existence of Black Love. Too often we focus on the firsts or inventors, and repeat the same facts every year–and we should not discount that, BUT imagine teaching our children and the world that our history preceded slavery (hey first lady…I am talking about Lucy– read about her!) and includes more then the traditional ode to the top pick of the week. Growing up, my mom had an Anheuser Busch poster that illustrated Beautiful Black Kings and Queens. She mounted the poster on posterboard (and of cropped their logo) and put it on my wall. It was my daily reminder of the royalty that runs deep in our veins. Together, my mother and I would name family members and friends who resembled the Black Kings and Queens. These moments were a full celebration of the tones, history and diversity that exist in our culture. This moment set the stage for what I still believe today: Black is Royalty. Black is Powerful. Black can never be erased. Gary Chapman enlightened us with his best selling book “The Five Love Languages, How to Express Heartfelt Commitment to your Mate”. Shoutout to Gary for the insight (and possible arguments) these universal concepts presented in our relationship dynamics, but I also want to acknowledge a major point: the culture has more than five! Black People’s Love Languages have been in existence for generations! You want something to eat? A love language. Ride with me down the street real quick. A love language. Dancing? A love language. Singing an old school cut? A love language. Dap, Handshakes, Laughter, and our compliments?! Absolutely love languages! The resilience of our people to show love and support to one another surpasses society’s continuous efforts to downplay the power of Black Love. When I say “we’ve been doing this”, we have always illustrated a form of love to and amongst one another that honors the power of Black culture and our ancestral connection. Food is the foundation for keeping us together. When we consider the concept “there’s a seat at the table” Black people mean the dinner table. When asking for forgiveness it’s often “you hungry?” In moments of grief: we send meals to our grieving loved ones. Food for us is a reflection of the comfort and safety we provide one another when we are together. During the Civil Rights Movement the table served as a place for Black people and allies to strategize and formulate their next move while eating our favorite soul food dishes. Black food not only represents our love for food, but it also represents the deep desire we have to feel connected and heard in a space that tries to silence our voices. The way Black people compliment one another during a hype session is the energy we all need (and deserve). Being Black means thriving in a language that is often unspoken but completely understood (from a head nod to an eye roll). The way we deliver a “YAASSSS” followed by “YOU BETTA” solidifies that you are in fact “killing it. ” While our Black affirmations serve as the ultimate confidence boosters, these colloquialisms have become a survival tactic to navigate through a society that treats us as invisible bodies. Black Music can stand on its own. Our music reflects our love for each other, for the culture and for the pride we share as a community. The root of our self expression relies on the creation of Black art in so many forms, including music, art and movement. As soon as the intro to “Before I Let Go” hits the speakers, Black people know exactly what to do. The song is the epitome of Black JOY! And speaking of Black joy…this month’s playlist is a reflection of the rhythms and melodies that have served as a soundtrack for our remarkable journey. Take a listen and enjoy! The connection we have with words comes from our ancestors. For me, reading serves as a gateway to the learning that was once denied them. When we have antagonists of Critical Race Theory (a concept they have taken completely out of context and attached a negative label to) attempting to dismantle the strides we have made, educating each other becomes a top priority. The distinct nature of our movement, the rhythms of our bodies combined with the beats and melodies of our music are unmatched. There is a form of wellness that comes from having the ability to dance and move through your frustrations. The classic choreography in Alvin’s Ailey’s, “Revelations”, takes you on a journey of Black history through Negro spirituals, gospel and rich melodies. Without words, these movements perfectly align with the emotions we all feel. Here’s the thing about love: you deserve it. Here’s the best part, Black Love is like 90s R&B, it’s real and it’s beautiful. My journey has allowed me the opportunity to sit in places that are beyond the dreams of my ancestors. I have learned that there is no greater love than the love one has for self. Black Love exists because our people chose to write, read, move, dance, create and inspire. Incorporate your black joy into your day, and be reminded of the power you have in controlling your own narrative. We deserve love and we will continue to fight for the freedom that belongs to us. The rhythm and soul of our spirituality encompasses the ancestral love that is forever present in…
Happy Soul-filled Christmas!
Happy Holidays, Fam! It’s the most wonderful time of the year and I am so grateful to share some reflections` with you this holiday season. My favorite Christmas memories normally begin with Thanksgiving meal prep. Papa Rye historically sees that day as an open invitation to blast [Luther’s Christmas album title] loud and on repeat. Historically, the album plays on repeat right through the New Year. When I moved to DC after law school and my first holiday season separated from my parents commenced, I felt grounded and at home when I played Luther. What I have realized is that the music (which has always played a very important role for my family and friends), the treats—from pralines to magic squares, the lights and decorations, and even the tree are all examples of something many of us talk about without real intention—the reason for the season. As many of us celebrate the birth of Christ among us, we are also living out the most important manifestation of His coming—love. Cooking in my family? A love language. Singing and humming holiday songs together? A love language. Admiring the dopest Christmas lights in the community? A love language. Taking care of those who may have a little less? Definitely a love language. How are you spreading love and joy this Christmas season? For me, this Christmas is about honoring my incredibly strong and loving roots especially because my maternal grandmother, Annabelle Decuir, who will be celebrating her 104th Birthday this Christmas. We are SO blessed! I am counting my blessings specifically and by name. As we find ourselves still navigating the COVID-19 pandemic, I realize—like many of you—I did not have to be here. SIDENOTE: please stay safe, wash your hands, and go get vaccinated, y’all. To all of you who may have lost a loved one in this crisis or for any other reason this year, please know you are in my thoughts and prayers. As we prepare to move forward in 2022, the year we’ve had is not lost on me. The beginning of this year brought about a change in presidents and a terrorist attack on the Hill instigated by the former president. Our voting rights are experiencing the biggest threat since the original Voting Rights act was signed into law in 1965 and women are being told through broad overreaching legislation and lawsuits that we don’t have agency over our own bodies. Oh, what a time to be alive! My hope remains though. We saw one prophetic word from Dr. King come to fruition with the guilty verdicts in the trial of the killers of our dear brother, Ahmaud Arbery: “Let us realize the moral arc of the universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Yet, we find ourselves waiting, wishing, praying, and hoping for the arc to bend in so many other ways on SO many other issues. I pray we forever hold on to the hope that results in our collective push for better. One of the most hopeful and eternally optimistic people I know, Papa Rye, recently had shoulder replacement surgery–a reminder that my superheroes are aging and most importantly, are human. Watching my fiercely independent father call on us for support is humbling for both of us. It has also grounded me on the significance of interdependence. We are created to belong, to support, to love, and to respect. I thank God that I am able to offer support to the human beings who made my life possible. If that is not a reason for the season, I do not know what is! So, when the frustration of holiday travel, traffic, shopping, and whatever else gets on your LAST NERVE comes up–remember…love. In this newsletter, I share some of my favorite things: my best friend, Leonetta, created a beautiful advent guide to help us focus on what matters most during this holiday season. I had an incredibly uplifting podcast conversation with my sisterfriend, Devi Brown. My team pulled together a list of our favorite holiday cuts. AND you know I love to support Black owned businesses, so I give you a list of some where you can purchase dope gifts this holiday season. Check it out and share your thoughts! Fashion and Apparel Pyer Moss by Kerby Jean-Raymond Hanifa by Anifa Mvuemba Telfar by Telfar Clemens B Fyne by Buki Ade Fear of God by Jerry Lorenzo Stoop and Stank by Brianna Downing Cosmetics and Skincare The Lip Bar by Melissa Butler Liha by Abi Oyepitan Wine & Spirits Brown Estate by Deneen, David & Coral Brown Health & Wellness Maktub Studioby Ashley Brabham AARMY by Angela Manuel-Davis Slay Athletic by Olympian Louise Hazel Ahura Apothecary by Genyii Queen Afua Products by Queen Afua The Sable Collective by Shanti Mayers Plants & Floral Arrangements Queen Plants by Paulette Hogan Old Vine Florals by Itika Grimble
Happy Birthday A. Rye!
Something’s gotta change/ Sounds of laughter and happiness turns my teardrops to rain/ Been bearin’ this burden for too many of my days/ Looks like breezes of autumn done finally blew my way/ Like memories of yesterday…Trees bright and green turn yellow-brown/Autumn caught ‘em, see all them leaves must fall down/ Growin Old.” -Outkast, 13th Floor/Growing Old Hey Family, Que the music! It’s my Birthday (and my work Dad, Rep. Cleaver, and Hillz, and Mahalia!). I am so grateful to be celebrating another year of love, joy, and freedom with you! This year has reminded me of all the beauty of life, and I am so humbled to be able to step into another year. What is better than one October Birthday? TWO! Happy Birthday to MAMA RYE! I am so grateful for your generosity of spirit, deep compassion, everlasting love, immense wisdom, and unwavering brilliance! My mom and I share my birthday month with some dynamic people, who unfortunately are not able to celebrate it the way they deserve. To Brittney Griner, we are sending you all the love, and the late George Floyd, you will always be in our hearts. October is my birthday month and always provides me with an opportunity to reflect on the things that made me. Each year, there are things I focus on shedding and others I cling to in deep gratitude. I have amazing memories with my loving parents and the joy I had growing up with my cousins and grandparents. I am still working on shedding traumas I carry from infidelity in relationships to seeing addiction destroy parts of my larger family. And still, daily, I thank God for abundant life! This year, I just want to get free ya’ll! And the path to freedom is a remarkable and challenging journey. Deform. This is the second element in this five-part series on how our humanity, if we are fortunate, unfolds and evolves into true freedom. To deform is to force, alter, or make something adapt from its intended nature. These twists, turns, bends, contortions, and distortions can be painful, and we have all experienced them. After we are formed, we begin to take definition. If we are not careful, we will be molded and defined by the hands of others and before we know it a lifetime has passed by and when we come to ourselves, our reflections are unrecognizable. Deformation is not about transitions or seasonal changes like the one we are in now—autumn when the temperature drops, leaves change colors, and we eat and drink things that warm us up from the inside out. Here, I am not talking about the kinds of shaping and refining that is a result of God’s hands on our lives. We all must endure tests and trials, but I have got to believe I am not the only one who subjected myself to some testing that did not necessarily have to happen! Taking on the shape, the mentality, and the ways of another for sure bring us to the brink of becoming someone other than ourselves. And the truth is that kind of deformation is always painfully unwarranted. Yet somehow it is a part of all our lives—it WILL happen. Trying to become something we are not is an experience we all have growing up. We have all had that revelatory “I don’t fit in” moment—and sometimes, multiple points—in our lives. We face the harsh, but beautiful realization that we are different and called to that uniqueness. Too often I made the decision after sitting with that revelation to adapt, to morph into something I was not in order to fly below the radar. I would model myself after a prototype instead of resting in the knowledge that I am the prototype for me. What resulted after the distortion is a person I did not like because I did not really know her. And sadly, sometimes it takes years to realize the construction work we have done on ourselves did not get us any closer to our essence. In middle school I found myself wishing for hair that was a different texture and thinner (SILLY RABBIT!!), so I could have the styles that I loved the most in Hype Hair Magazine. As a result, most of my traumatic hair stories come from some idea I got from the magazine and begged my hairstylist, sister-cousin, Mia to do (even if she warned me that said style would not work because of the length/texture/thickness of my hair). I was in the eighth grade during the resurgence of finger waves and pin curls, and the slick was brought to you by Let’s Jam! I had never had a single finger wave nor pin curl despite my ability to do snake wave baby hairs. I was ready for the revolution as was magazined in Hype Hair. There was one particular style I absolutely had to have. The girl had blunt cut bangs, the top half of her hair with precisely laid pin curls, and the bottom half was pressed and down. My hair was long (past my shoulder blades) and thick. My hair was so thick that every other beautician with the sole exception of Mia complained the entire time they styled my hair. I had been saving this doggy-eared Hype Hair Magazine image all summer and right up until picture day eve. This was the look. I had my striped crew neck long sleeved shirt and insanely baggy jeans from Jeans West. Your girl was ready for the world—well, at least picture day—and all that was standing in my way was these pin curls because as soon as I excitedly tore open this magazine and showed Mia this hairdo the protest began. Mia was emphatic that my hair was way too long and thick for this hairstyle. It would take too long. The style would not last until tomorrow because it would immediately come apart. The pin curls wouldn’t even sit on my scalp—and I tuned out the rest. All I…
This is 42…
Hello Framily (friends and family), This is such a significant time of rebirth in my life. I experienced a difficult breakup, had some major shifts in my career (perhaps you’ve noticed I have not been on CNN since January), and what in the WORLD is this pandemic doing to us?! I was left questioning: “Who am I?” and for the first time in my life, I found peace in not rattling off accomplishments to get to who. My identity was almost always wrapped up in what I could put on paper, awards I have won, and making my parents proud–rather than what cannot be taken away and what is in my sole control–my character. It took many therapy sessions and healers to get me to this point in my journey (shout out to Yadi, Devi, Dr. Mariel, Queen Afua, and the IG therapists too–I see you!). I traveled to Ghana in March of this year with Queen Afua and some other amazing souls. Everywhere we went, we were met with an “Akwaaba” or “welcome home”. Those words filled a deep void inside me I didn’t know existed, but felt deeply as tears dropped from my eyes as the plane landed amidst visions of red clay dirt in Accra. The pilgrimage to the continent deepened me into another, equally important journey–the road to returning home to myself. The road to get here has not been easy and really started in earnest about a year and a half ago. I have spent a lifetime constructing a protective character for little Angela to hide behind because the little one is far more sensitive and vulnerable. The character I built is someone many of you have come to know and love. She is strong, honest, unfiltered, and fiercely protective of herself, her loved ones, and her community. While she is not a lie, she only represents a part of me (*cue En Vogue*). A lifelong perfectionist (at least, until now!), I generally like to have things figured out and be an expert before I share, but that won’t help me (or you!) this time, so I am leaving that old pattern behind me. I am more free than I have ever been and I still have so much to learn. Thank you. I am so grateful you signed up to bear witness to this imperfect journey to freedom–filled with highs and lows, ebbs and flows, and everything in between. May this number, this year lead us to acceptance of what IS. May we break unhealthy generational cycles and toxic patterns. May we focus on ALL we have and not what we do not. May we reflect the kind of compassion that ensures equity and access for ALL. May we heal, learn, grow, and love together. May we be our best and highest selves. The world is waiting for us! This is 42, y’all. Welcome to my rebirth! I pray you experience one too. Sending you all the love, joy, justice, and peace you can stand,
