MY CITY IS HURTING…
Do you see her? Do you hear her?
Lisa Harris ~ June 8, 2020
We can no longer erase her narrative from the story.
In the shadows of my own grieving heart from the passing of my dear friend, Autumn Jones, to a global pandemic to the murder of George Floyd to the nationwide protests for racial injustice, I had to do something in my corner of the world… for women. She must be seen. Her narrative must be told.
On Thursday, June 4, 2020, I did what others advised me NOT to do and yet my heart recognized the urgency. I simply knew that if someone could do it, that person was me. Since I was a child, I have been the bridge between many different worlds and many different perspectives. So there I lay, stretched out from the tip of my fingers to the tip of my toes so my sisters could walk across my back.
You see, I am a WOC, even though sometimes you forget.
I am kind. I am bold. I am brave.
I am a change-maker. I am a disruptor.
I am a bridge builder.
Unveiled Beauty: Holding Hands | Black Sisters
A special one-night only Unveiled Beauty event.
Black sisters amplified.
Everyone else muted.
No Q&A. No comments. No conversation.
No formal agenda. No topics of discussion.
In the fragile aftermath of my hurting city, it was NOT our intention to put our sisters on a podium to educate us. That is NOT her job. Our intention was for her to ‘just be’… be in a safe space where she can be seen and heard in this moment. Where she can remove her mask and not be forced to filter her words, her tears, her posture, or her language. An integrated, diverse, safe space for her to be witnessed. 52 women registered.
Were women uncomfortable?
Were women afraid to show their raw vulnerability?
Did women fight the urge to defend themselves?
Absolutely. Absolutely yes. But THIS is change.
So, what happened next? MAGIC. You see, when we give our experiences and our stories a voice we free ourselves and we allow others to witness us for who we are. And in witnessing, we are able to recognize the human experience and make heart connections. The greatest gift we can offer is our hearts and our ears.
We cried. Truth is I am stilling crying. We offered hearts. Homemade from construction paper and drawn on loose leaf paper. We listened. Afterwards, many of us vowed to keep listening and to educate ourselves. A scheduled one hour gathering turned into two hours. Our non-black sisters sat in silence and opened their arms.
I could not be more proud of this sisterhood.
Fashion Meets Poetry’s mission is to help women unveil their stories and reclaim their personal power through the power of creative expression. And although this event was not a storytelling event, it was aligned with our core values: authenticity, connection, and vulnerability.
Thank you to all those who boldly spoke and signed up. Plus, those who continue to trust me as we explore bravery, beauty and vulnerability together.
Free Your Story!
Bravery is Beautiful!