skin & bones: a novel

by Renée Watson

Want older boys not to look at her with wanton gazes, want White teachers to hear the tenor of her voice and not mistake it for attitude or sass, want her curiosity to be seen as innocent as it is. Want her purity protected. Want her girlhood preserved.

But, Aaliyah, you’ll always be my baby girl.

DEI. Director of diversity, equity, and inclusion. Right. I pour another glass of wine. I’m trying to get everyone to rethink what it means to curate spaces for the public to feel welcomed, seen, and validated. I have so many ideas, I tell them. They keep trying to erase us, but I’m not letting that happen.

Sometimes Aspen is the calm after a storm, sometimes she is the storm.

(And I refuse to say only; there is no such thing as only in reference to a life, a love, gone, gone.)

and yes to enjoying food not as a guilty pleasure

but as the nourishment it is and yes to enjoying food not only because it is nourishment but because it tastes good.

Does a Black woman’s strength always have to be at the ready and on display?

why she’s willing to go backward after coming so far.

I am screaming at you right now Lena!!!!

they left behind—their bigotry, their hate, their fear. This too is an inheritance passed down, and down, and down.

There’s a look in Dad’s eyes that I’ve never seen

there are tears, definitely tears.

The thought of me and Bryan going out on a date doesn’t bring joy to her eyes, but tension.

Even the baby knows this is wrong

afraid

But I loved you. I loved you well. That ought to count for something.

No matter what we as mothers do to love and protect our daughters, there’s no saving them from heartbreak.

Sons too

You can also teach her what forgiveness looks like. You can also show her that love is hard work. That true love—real love—is not only romance and good vibes. You can show her that it takes strength and wisdom to know who to give that energy to.

Aspen for the win!

january 1

All of tbis!!!!

I miss Kendra—for many reasons—but right now, I miss that we didn’t go shopping together to find something for my TV debut. I miss her okaying my hair and makeup, miss her telling me, You got this, you got this.

Some conversations are for family only. Even

We are not a monolith, yet even in our individuality, we are one.

am not opening that closed door. Honey would be proud.

I surrender, let myself feel everything I’ve been pushing away. I love him. I forgive him. I want him.

A whole room of Black sunshine.

putting a handle on an elder’s name,

LIke Ms. Pat orf Ms. Barbara?

play cousins, uncles that ain’t your uncle, aunties that earned the title because of how much they love you,

risk

but I keep worrying that I’ve ruined her.

Said every parent at some poibt on the journey

There are no getting-to-know-you-questions, no declarations of love, no deep commentary, not even any heavy flirting, there’s just us. A regular date on a regular morning. A Wednesday kind of love.

She is gone, gone but here still.

I have my momma’s wisdom too. She left me herself.

I belong here. My big, Black body belongs here, and everywhere I choose to go.

My takeaway from Portland: Black is that not only do the stories of my ancestors matter, but my story matters too. They were here, and I am here. And I will make good use of this breath.

I am starting to be who I always thought I was.