2023 taught me endurance— ”the fact or power of enduring an unpleasant or difficult process or situation without giving way.” Oxford Languages Dictionary defines the word endure as such: to “suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently” and to “remain in existence; last.” The etymology of "endure” is Middle English: from Old French endurer, from Latin indurare ‘harden’, from in- ‘in’ + durus ‘hard’.1
There were many moments throughout the year that sought to destroy my spirit, and there were people who wanted to “humble” me rather than be a true friend to me. I endured periods of deep isolation from misunderstandings and my own mistakes. I had reached my mental breaking point, and it felt like the world had turned its back on me and deemed me unworthy of care. At moments, it felt like there was not enough grace for me. Yet, I continued on with the support of my most trusted loved ones nearby.
While I have enjoyed my time at Temple in some ways, it has also changed me in ways I do not like. For a while, I felt on edge, anxious, and constantly apologetic for existing as I am. I forgot who I was, I didn’t trust myself, and I made a lot of mistakes because of it. I allowed false friends to mistreat me and manipulate me to not face the loneliness and isolation I was experiencing.
Endurance taught me accountability—it taught me that my mistakes and missteps have consequences for others and my reputation. Endurance taught me wisdom, understanding, and empathy towards myself and others. Instead of feeling ashamed or fearful, endurance helped me return to myself and realign to my purpose. Endurance reminded me of the power of transformation—and the time it takes to undergo change. Endurance taught me to own it all and to keep it the fuck moving.
Because the other option—to cower under the judgments of others, to allow my shame to eat me from the inside, to eliminate myself from this earth—was never an option. And, so, I endured.
I continued to create work that meant something to me. I pushed past my fear of failure and being perceived to create my first narrative film, originally titled A Visitation. It is a love story that centers on an older Black woman who is moving through the grief of her dead husband, Xavier. As she practices drumming, she conjures his spirit, and he gives her important messages that help her see how free she really is.
I had been ruminating about “divine love” or “soul mates.” I wondered if I would ever find “my person” on this vast earth. This made me consider the social expectation to have only one person you are meant to be with, “til death do you part.” We are meant to have multiple soul mates–platonic, romantic, familial–in our short but long lifetime. I believe we meet people we are destined to meet because of a spiritual connection and a mutual commitment to each other’s growth, happiness, and well-being.
A Visitation is a story rooted in Black spirituality, love, and the heartache of grief. At the center of this story is my grandmother’s experience. My grandma and grandpop married when they were young–in Washington, DC–she was 17, and he was 20. They had babies very young and endured many hardships, but their commitment to each other never wavered.
In 2014, shortly after my Grandpop died, my grandmother saw him sitting at the edge of her bed, beaming at her. Bewildered, she touched his shoulder twice and felt solid flesh.
This story stuck with me because it shows how our ancestors appear to us when we most need them — they help us to endure the grief from their absence. Grief never goes away, instead it lingers and transforms as we continue to cope with the absence of a loved one. A key part of African cosmology and Black spirituality is honoring our dead and giving reverence to our ancestors. My grandmother’s experience opens up the possibility of staying in contact with loved ones who have transitioned. It’s a reminder that they are always near.
Another part of this story is an exploration of sensuality in older Black women. In a 2021 study by researchers Margaret A. Salisu and Jagadisa-Devarsri Dacus2 that explores the convergence of race, gender, age, and sexuality, their findings revealed a nuanced “exploration of the various dimensions about how they understand themselves by providing invaluable insight into their world as older Black women.”
This film problematizes the controlling images3 of Black womanhood–specifically Black matriarchs in America–to grant older Black women the self-expression of sexuality and sensuality. In Dionne, I see a Black woman breaking away from the mundanity of her everyday life to reach for desire and reclaim her independence. She lives a solitary life, yet she yearns for connection. However, she feels guilt for having this yearning due to her commitment to her deceased husband, Xavier. Consequently, it is Xavier, in spirit form, who reminds her of her freedom as an act of love–because “love liberates.”
At the heart of A Visitation is the bittersweet reality of loss and death, yet the power of love that keeps our hearts tender and open. Although this story is rooted in Blackness, I hope many can feel and understand the central theme of love as a pathway toward liberation.
You can watch a rough cut of this film below.
This film is a child of Eve’s Bayou, The Color Purple, Beloved, Daughters of the Dust, Cette Maison, and many others that depict Black spirituality and femininity. This film is rooted in my own connection to the spirit realm, dreams, and visitations from loved ones. This film is a testament to my endurance.
During the production of the film, everything that could go wrong—went wrong. Although the pre-production had gone smoothly, nothing prepares a filmmaker for the production chaos. My director of photography ghosted me the week of my production. During production, my lead actress fell and sprained both wrists, which cut our production short due to her health and safety. Yet, me and my team endured.
While I am very sad that the full breadth of the story I wanted to tell was disrupted, I am very proud of my team, and for the amount of connection and joy, we all felt while on set. I had a crew full of Black queer folks supporting this story from the top to the bottom, we had location, cast, wardrobe, “craft services” all secured. It was a beautiful experience. That day showed me what was possible when you had the right people supporting a vision. My spirits were with me through the whole project and reminded me of the joy of filmmaking.
2023 taught me endurance and resilience. It was a year I both lost and found myself. It was a year that brought so much clarity after months and months of confusion and anxiety. Now, I root into a calm fearlessness, excited for the blessings that have yet to unfold for me and my loved ones.
“Living in a Paradox: How Older Single and Widowed Black Women Understand Their Sexuality. J Gerontol Soc Work. 2021 Apr-May;64(3):303-333. doi: 10.1080/01634372.2020.1870603. Epub 2021 Jan 5.”
“Mammies, Matriarchs, and Other Controlling Images” by Patricia Hill Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment.
“Endurance reminded me of the power of transformation—and the time it takes to undergo change. Endurance taught me to own it all and to keep it the fuck moving.“
whew - a word and a wisdom. I’m so excited to watch! You did that!!!!
Congratulations on this project. I’m watching now. Hopefully one of many. ❤️