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This zine is dedicated to the Sistas of the Sistahood (Ntozake Shange, Toni Morrison, Alice Walker, June Jordan, Lori Sharpe, and Audrey Edwards) who knew it was special to sit in a circle and create among other Black Women.
Iresha Picot, M.Ed, is a proud southern Black feminist, currently residing in Philly and grassing her roots as a Prison Abolitionist, a practicing photographer, a newly trained Doula, and book lover. She loves to create and has mothered many projects such as Summer for the Sistas, Zami: Sistography Collective, the Assatas Daughters Project and Ntozake Shange School of Literary Thought. Shanika Thomas is a 29 year-old school teacher from Brooklyn, New York. She received her B.A in Childhood Education and is looking forward to doing her Master's in Women/Gender Studies with a concentration in Africana Studies. She is currently residing in Copperas Cove, Texas.
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taught me especially not to trust men. She admonished me to be prepared at all times to escape. All men were potential rapists in her eyes; including my daddy. I was scorned by her if I sat on a mans lap as a little girl. You can never be too safe. You should never get too close. Grandma died when I was twelve, but when we became teenagers, my sister and I could still hear grandmas teachings resounding through the echoes of time: Always carry a little extra money with
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water. I appreciate grandmas willingness to challenge the old adage that blood is thicker than water. Grandma understood the need for a sense of community beyond the immediate family. She knew first hand that your loved ones can be guilty of stabbing you in the back, of hurting you in a way that no friend ever would. This didnt mean that she devalued family. She just understood that while family comes first, friends can often be like family. Grandma valued her friendships. She made time for friendship. She valued sisterhood. We grew up calling many of
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Granny: Little girls dont talk loud nor do they sit around a lot of boys. They dont sweat their pressed hair out or make lots of unwanted noise. They will go to school. Climb the ivory tower and when they come down, they will get married, have babies, and make Granny prouder. Iresha: I was invisible so long, that my voice is now louder, and men arent thrown to me Granny, especially as I climb this ivory tower. And see I do not just write on my myself. One tattoo speaks of home, Africa. The other speaks of Blackness, Power. And my hair never grew with all those relaxers or hot combs. Now see how it swings because it has been release to a freedome.
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