Maroons (Grievers #2)

by Adrienne Maree Brown

The voices of the radio didn’t know how it felt, this inertia, this genocide. She’d never known it before. But now, suddenly, this new voice, equal parts butter and gravel, a river rush of words with no hurry, static humming all around—knowing, knowing how it felt.

H-8 was man made.

She knew this couldn’t have happened in a white city, though she couldn’t explain that logically.

This place may be a dangerous place, but it is such a beautiful place! There is wild chicory, lavender, sage, rosemary, and dandelion root growing freely everywhere I turn. There are houses to burn and lessons to learn.

by being so alive amongst the dead.

until they faced Detroit like gods, or Canadians, seeing the city spiral up and away from them, from the river.

And they sat there, laughing amongst the dead, feeling unbearably alive.

“That we cannot get caught in the past events—even the immediate past. It isn’t possible to heal if we just keep processing and reprocessing, or declaring a singular history.”