Giants Sleeping and the Rhythmic Mourning While Black
The Life and Death of our Giants
2020 has been an oscillation between life and death, with the latter as the present reality, lately. The past few days prove no different as we mourn the transition from life to the death of Congressman John Lewis and Reverend C. T. Vivian. As they restfully join the Trailblazers of our Black community, we encounter a heartbreaking yet awakening experience. To mourn while Black presents a dance that teeters between the recognition of the barbaric nature of America while audaciously hoping for a new life to come. In the middle of this dance, we find ourselves currently demanding the right to be acknowledged.
Congressman Lewis, who represented Georgia’s 5th district, was one of the significant leaders in the 1960s Civil Rights Movement and a sharp advocate for voter registration nationwide. Likewise, Reverend Vivian dramatically transformed the Civil Rights movement through his strategic insights into leadership. Throughout his lifelong ministry, Vivian utilized his visionary skills towards social justice. Both were authors, leaders, visionaries, trailblazers, teachers, amongst many more, but most of all, they were our Elders.
Elders, by their presence alone, can bring comfort and peace. By hearing stories of their past or listening to language coated in wisdom, our community thrives together. In the delicate balance of life between the Elderly and the young, we wish that death was not our reality, now more than ever.
What happens when either the expected or unexpected transitions of our Elders occur? What happens when death seems to have a hold on our community? When do we breathe? When do we have space to mourn? When do we have the chance to live entirely like the rest?
Our Continual Mourning
Our mourning’s rhythmic presence brings a multitude of feelings in our community that many of us can resonate with. As our Giants sleep, so too (but not limited to) have our loved ones, jobs, relationships, and expectations for 2020. Coupled with the increasing presence of the coronavirus, a heightened awareness of both police brutality and the crisis of Black women’s maternal mortality rate, even our mourning is viewed as an opportunity to spectate.
Deriving Power from our Mourning
For our Black community, “Prophetic lament allows us to actually ritualize, memorialize, [our grief] in some kind of tangible way,” says Reverend Gregory Edwards. As we navigate this middle, it is that our grief and mourning are sound-cries to the injustices we face daily. Our grieving process is active as we balance the complexities of our identities and daily living. Our mourning gives volume to our tears as we vote, march, rally, and speak with a holy indignation. Our grieving process remains in tune with our inner being, prioritizing self-care, and communal wellness. Most of all, our mourning’s power lies in the dual ability to confront complicit individuals/groups and have a futuristic hope in life without mourning that burns within our hearts.