Just Breathe

Each morning, after bonnets had been removed and durags untied, they would stand at mama’s feet while she gently brushed waves and double-checked barrettes. Her plaits weren’t ready until she could hear the click. Then they would try to dash out the door when the last snap was heard, but mama would wrap her arms around them before they could move and begin to pray. This part of the morning routine didn’t bother them so much, but it was always followed by their least favorite part. Each one having to take their daily dose—one tablespoon cod liver oil and two tablespoons ether.

Until one morning, mama realized he wasn’t standing there with brush in hand. She walked into his bedroom and found him wrapped up to his eyes in sheets and comforter.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“My stomach hurts.”

She peered into his eyes, searching for the truth because his stomach never hurt. This is the same child who would shovel full scoops of dirt into his mouth and cared nothing of retrieving a fallen snack from the floor.

“What’s really going on, baby?”

“Mama, it really is my stomach. It hurts.”

“What did you eat?”

It was at this moment he broke, and tears began to roll.

“I can’t eat it anymore.”

“Boy, you have been taking your morning dose for years and it has never bothered you.”

“No, not that.

It’s the school food.

Microaggressions swallowed in halls make my belly swell; piercing pains from the lies the curriculum tells. No matter how much I try to wash them down with milk from the cafeteria, even my favorite, chocolate.”

Her cheeks began to pull her lips into an easy smile.

“Aww, baby. I knew this day would come. There is no need to worry or feel hopeless—you have fire in your belly. Fire that can burn all that away. That’s why I give you your daily dose.

When you find your stomach aches from the lies they tell and from hate forced down it swells, remember, you have fire in your belly.

When you feel as though your flame is not steady, remember my dear, there’ll be others standing at the ready. Your ancestors, too, had fire in their belly.

In the moments when it feels like the embers have been extinguished, breathe in; and as you exhale, you’ll feel fire from across generations work its way through your chest.

When it hits your tongue meeting nouns, adjectives, and adverbs igniting each one, you’ll take the power of words and burn down the room.

Just breathe.