Blood at the Root

by LaDarrion Williams

This is dedicated to the seventeen-year-old Black boy who the world told he doesn’t have magic. Lemme let you in on a lil’ secret: you do. It is in your blood; it is nestled deep in your bones. It is in the very soil you walk on that’s been blessed by the sweat and tears of your ancestors. Walk in it with pride.

The late, great Toni Morrison once said, “If you find a book you really want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” I carry those words with me everywhere I go. Black boys surely deserve stories filled with magic, wonder, and warm summer rain. Black boys deserve to have their origin stories. Black boys deserve to have the fullness of their power revered.

Let them spin magic from their fingers. Let them hold stars in their hair. Let Black boys be the alchemists in their stories. Let Black boys be seen. Let them be colored softly. Let them fall in love. Let them have adventures. And let Black boys be the heroes of their own stories.

Life is your birthright, they hid that in the fine print. Take the pen and rewrite it. —BEYONCÉ, “Bigger,” from The Lion King: The Gift

When it comes to Black folks in Helena, Alabama, the Fourth of July ain’t got shit to do with patriotism.

A whistle, then a loud pop, sizzles through the humid air. Right after, a trail of smoke follows. From my perspective, the Fourth of July ain’t changed for real. People doing the same old, same old. Barbecuing. Drinking. Playing loud-ass music and popping firecrackers. Carrying on like their lives can’t be destroyed in a single night.

Autumn-baked streets paved with privilege and newly soldered tar. Stupid-looking yard gnomes and lawn chairs spread out in the manicured front yards, taunting us outsiders with a bullshit sign about All Are Welcome. Perched just right for everybody to see their fake-ass activism. Just like the rest of the South, they try to hold on to things they should’ve let go of a long time ago. I guess we got shit in common.

This country boy from Helena, Alabama, ain’t never teleported a day in his life.