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Conservatism, Reaction, and the Elder's Responsibility: A Message to My Age Grade

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Conservatism, Reaction, and the Elder's Responsibility: A Message to My Age Grade Great Day, Fam. This one right here? It’s not for everyone. If you’re not at or approaching Eldership—defined in our tribe as about 55 years old and up—you might not feel all of this. But if you’re curious, or if you’re one of those younger souls already walking with wisdom, you’re welcome to keep reading. This message is for the Elders. For those of us who should know better. And yes—I’m including myself. Let’s Start With the Mirror I’ve got to confess something. I’ve been guilty. Guilty of being reactionary. Guilty of falling into the trap of conservatism. Guilty of romanticizing the past. Guilty of looking at our young people and calling them “soft”—as if we were born warriors, as if we didn’t have to become who we are through fire, failure, and guidance. Many of us Elders are stuck in a loop. We remember only the highlights of our youth—the toughest times we survived, the boldest moments ...

The Baba- chapter 9 part 4

After this I began my libation. Having no water available, I just did it with words.
“Calling on the Creator of all things. I ask you to be with me on this sacred journey and I welcome your presence on this sacred ground I am standing on. I call on all of the celestial ancestors that are known by many names. I welcome your presence in and your protection in this sacred place. I salute you for you are the energies, spirits, and power that directly serve the Creator and the creation. I call on all of my ancient ancestors. I welcome you here in this sacred place. I aspire to accomplish all that you have accomplished from creating civilization to building the great monuments of old.” I paused for a second waiting for some names to come to my mind. “Imhotep, Shaka, and all those that I can’t name. I call on all of our ancestors that died during the Maafa. All those that died in Afrika, all that died during the march , all those that died in the dungeon, all those that died during the middle passage, all those that died during our captivity and were buried in unmarked graves. All those that have been suffering up to this day. I welcome you into this sacred place, and I am a living testament that you have not been forgotten. I call on our universal ancestors. All of those that rose to struggle after our Maafa. Those heroes and heroins that let us know that we were more than what the world told us we were. I welcome you warriors  -Malcolm, Martin, Harrier Tubman, Tousant, Elijah, Marcus, all those I called and all those I didn’t call. I call on my personal family ancestors. I only know of one to call and I do it with a heavy heart, for I miss you grandma. You were my guardian angel.” At this point I started to feel sad. Doing libations is a way different experience pouring by yourself than in a group. I felt overcome. I don’t know how to describe this feeling, but I started crying. “I welcome you to this sacred space, I need you in this sacred space. I pour for this moment for the moment is all I have and I hold it as sacred. I call on my future generation to come in the circle and bare witness for all I do in this moment is for you. I pledge to better myself and this world so that you will have a better world. I call on the elements that combine to make the fifth element. Fire, earth, air, and water—they combine to make life.” I threw my hands up and looked at the sky and yelled, “Axe’, Axe’, Axe’!” I turned back to west and felt a gentle wind hit, all over my body. Don’t ask me to explain it, but it hit me on all sides at the same time. I sat down and admired the beauty of the sunset. The colors were beautiful. First the light faded to orange like color, and I could look directly at the sun, and truly admire its beauty. It looked like a giant basketball surround by a dark cloud. As the light began to fade, I saw reds and eventually it faded to what seemed like a dark purple all the way to blackness, and as soon as it faded the orchestra of life began again. I could hear a symphony of crickets. I could understand how my ancestors could have a love affair with the sun and all of nature because it was beautiful, powerful, and mysterious.
Then the fear hit me. There were no street lights, no light switch. I was alone in the darkness of nature, and the only thing I had to protect me were my ancestors. At this point I began to realize why faith was so important to our ancestors. Many times that would be all they had to hold on to in a world where they had no control.




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