The L Word
A Word That Comes and Goes
What we knew about love as little Black Girls clad in fluorescent scrunchies and butterfly clips in the 90s, was the love of Jesus. My two sisters and I sang gleefully about it around the house dancing like David danced to Fred Hammond, crooning about it to Kirk Franklin’s Nu Nation album and two stepping in reference to it to anything Hezekiah Walker. We’d recite 1st Corinthians by the age of 4, not truly understanding the gravity of what we were saying, rather a muscle memory of being born to a Preacher’s Kid. My father would always remind us, “It is your job to protect each other”. The love of family was one that was instilled within us though not explicitly. Beyond scripture and family, I never really understood the entire concept of love whether it was romantic or platonic.
The Sweetest Thing
“Why is sis in the rain for this brotha”? Doesn't she know her hair isn't covered? There isn’t a bonnet or CVS plastic bag in sight I mean really girl”!? A perplexed 13 year old me watched the screen intently, marveling at Black Love on the silver screen, where the Black man wasn't some sort of dealer or gang banger. Love Jones quickly broke up the monotony of the endless 90s romantic films that always seemed to star Julia Roberts or Sandra Bullock. While I loved While You Were Sleeping, I never truly understood why there weren't many movies like it starring people who looked, dressed and sounded like me. The first time I ever saw Nia Long and Larenz Tate kissing in the rain, I immediately proclaimed to myself, “Oh I want that”!
Sprung
Nia was possibly the most beautiful woman I had seen since Halle Berry in Boomerang. Her strong cheekbones were complemented by her short jet Black bob she’d put behind her ears, that I’d later rock in my 20s. I.was.hooked. This love story also starred the incomparable vampire esque ( he just refuses to age okay!) Larenz Tate who had been my male on screen crush since he kissed Jada Pinkett in The Ink Well. For me, this display of Black Love was a match made in literal heaven. I watched the two 20 somethings fall in love through incense, cigarettes and poetry, I’d play and replay my Fathers VHS tape until the black film almost fell out of it’s cartridge. Watching the two slow dance in the dark to Coltranes’ Sentimental Mood put me in a fantastical trance convincing me that love was solely about romance and kind gestures. I never once stopped to realize that what was on screen was not necessarily true in living color. At 13 however, I began to develop a sort of idealism that would affect my relationships for better or worse. Like many other Black and Brown children, emotions and feelings were not at the top of our parents priority list, therefore many of us began to grapple with our emotional intelligence with each other and were naturally impacted by what multimedia defined as love or a loving relationship. This emotional awakening was both impactful and dangerous for many.
They Say I’m Hopeless
The first time I entered a therapy session was about 2 years ago. After 6 months of scouring the internet for a therapist of color I finally found a great fit on therapyforblackgirls.com.. I was so elated that I’d finally found someone who would “get me” in a way that I have never felt like a non POC would. Sitting on her couch one of the first questions she asked was, “What were you explicitly or implicitly taught about love”? Stumped, I may have sat for a few uncomfortable minutes searching the crevices of my memory for an answer to her nuanced question. I began to wonder, how don’t I know the answer to this? The actual teaching piece of the question, had my mouth gaped open so hard, I am absolutely certain a fly went in and out. I began to ask my sisters, friends and acquaintances the same question that my therapist had stumped me with. I would regularly hear that same awkward pause as they tried to reach back into their childhoods, attempting to recollect a time when they were spoken to about emotions such as this. Throughout my discussions, I would often find that most were not explicitly taught about any kind of love and would rather observe those around them within their households, through music lyrics or via television and/or movies. Many people said that it was not spoken about at all, while others said they learned through observing their parents, aunties and uncles relationships which were often toxic. This begs the question: If you are not taught about love, how are you able to teach others?
Sumthin’
Multimedia influence is stronger than ever before and the emotional labor of it all makes it difficult to live and understand love in this skin. Many search for love through control, acclaim, attention and other avenues that allow them to be both seen and heard. When I speak to my students, many feel love is solely steeped in how much pain one can endure to “deserve” this mystical achievement. As an educator and a mother, I know that children are always watching, grappling for their own emotional understanding and their skewed perceptions are rooted in their optical views. Quite simply: Children don’t follow what you say, they follow what you repeatedly do. As an adult, I now understand that some parents who did not explicitly teach their children about love may have been more concerned with their children's survival in a world set out to destroy their physical bodies, than the preservation of their emotional wellness. Like me, many POCs are now seeking healing from various emotional pitfalls and resurfacing a new, seeking to rewrite the narrative for our children. In a world where we are told everyday implicitly & explicitly not love ourselves nor those who mirror us, Black love is indeed a revolutionary act.