Sisterhoodverb, Inc.

Last week was one for the books! 📕 🎙️
Thank you for the opportunity to be of service in the best way! 💛
And to all the featured poets who showed up to the workshops and trusted and I with your stories, artwork, and hearts: Thank you from the bottom of mine. 💛
It was an honor to serve the community this way and now that Ade and I founded our non-profit, COMMA (Community Organizing and Multidisciplinary Mentorship through the Arts) we are just getting started!
Stay tuned! 💛

MOTHERHOOD SPEAKS IS FOR YOU IF...
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+ You are a mother, a mother-to-be.
+ You used to write - or always wanted to - but life got in the way
• You’re craving a community that actually gets it, not just the highlight reel of motherhood
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DETAILS
Every Thursday, 6:30 pm-7:30 pm PST, via ZOOM
All you need is a paper and a pen! First class starts Thursday, March 12th
Reserve your spot TODAY or gift it to a mama you know needs it! ❤️

My daughter added this to my journal and she's right…

Life can definitely feel like this. Especially right now. Her artwork screams what I sometimes think: WTF is going on?!? Where am I in the timeline? Where is common sense, common decency, community healing? Where’s the anchor that assures me there are decent people out there and the light always wins?

Within my daughter’s scribbles, I identified with the chaos and the concentrated corners where lines crashed, as if certain areas were escalating and might explode with all that friction. So many questions, both personal and more universal, are begging for answers night and day. The personal ones are quiet and atomic, and the universal ones are urgent and constantly changing…

You can read the rest on substack! 📖

SISTERHOOD IS A VERB!

It’s an action we can share with others but mostly ourselves…

Sisterhood gives us courage to investigate those dark corners of our past and present so we have a clearer future…

These narratives and timeless tales of black women not getting along and not having meaningful connections are intentional and born out of a trauma, your trauma, my trauma, our trauma…

When we sit down and really begin to have discussions on what community looks like and what we need from our community as Black women, I think we will find an understanding of where our healing begins and long lasting connections can start…

What stories are we telling ourselves? What stories are we telling the world? How do we tell our truth and connect with other women outside the noise—the expectation that they already know our story?

That’s the discussion I want to be a part of…

As the adventure continues
and the journey expands
The turn of the clock
won’t erase the magic in your hands
Some questions need time,
they need a version of you that’s incoming
Continue to create from Divine
And you’ll see the abundance come running
2025’s sun is setting
Her gems shining on the shore
She loving nudges you to 2026
Be brave, open the door 🚪


a future that excited you
As the new year starts

Postpartum depression would have us mothers think that we aren’t enough, not worthy, not prepared to love and raise our little ones… but then there are days like Christmas, where I can get a closer look into my daughter’s world, and you know what’s in it?

Music
Dancing
Hugs
Family
Laughing
Drawing
Colors
Make believe

It’s when I see her pull her books out one by one from her reading corner and share them with us (“Read, please!”) again and again or flip through the pages on her own while singing a song that I realize her world is not preoccupied with my worries about what it could be, should be, or who I need to be to make it better or perfect. Her world is a place of joy, and I intentionally prioritize and protect it, even when I feel like I’m not.

She didn’t notice the wall of presents on Christmas morning. She went to her djembe and did a solo, waited for applause, did her morning kitchen inspection, and inevitably found herself back at her bookshelf. She picked a book and brought it to me: “Read, please!”

She looks to me, and my husband, mommy, and daddy to narrate the world she is creating, and it’s my greatest honor that I know doesn’t last as long as I think. It’s her smile and the way she loves hugging as a sport and reading about the world that tells me the truth:

I am enough. I am worthy. I am prepared to be her mommy; that is why she chose me. Everything else is just noise.

That goes for you too, momma!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all.❤️