“Behind my eyes, there lives a me
That I’ve been hiding for much too long
’Cause I’ve been too afraid to let it show
’Cause I’m scared of the judgment that may follow”
As I write this, I sit in front of Kali Ma, form of the Divine Mother with skin as dark as night. Flames in her eyes, her gaze pierces my chest to the center of my heart. Her love is ferocious, unyielding, cutting through all the bullshit constructs the human mind creates. She cares not what family or country you were born into, how much money you have in the bank, the gems you wear, or what shade of skin covers your bones - She seeks to move past all that separates - all the ways you think you are special, or all the ways you feel you’ve been hurt - and bring you straight into the heart of Truth.
Last weekend, I went to a concert 25 years in the making.
Twenty-five years ago, I was a baby flight attendant. I knew there was something greater that I had yet to experience, so I left all I knew - growing up in a cult, in a small rural community in the Deep South of Alabama - in search of something True, in search of myself.
In 2000, two months before my 21st birthday, I moved to the Big Apple. There in Queens, I shared a 3 bedroom apartment with 4 other young women. Within my first six months of flying for Delta Airlines, I had visited many countries in Europe, Central and South America.
New York City truly is a melting pot of races and cultures, of peoples of all colors brimming with hope from the opportunity to “make it”, to provide their family with a different life. That year, I was immersed in the experience of different cultures, different food, different languages, from all over the world. I loved it!
In the Spring of 2001, during my first year of flying, an incredibly talented artist and song writer released her first album - “Acoustic Soul” became the soundtrack of my life that year. Even though I connected deeply with her lyrics and sound, India Arie wasn’t writing about my experience. She wasn’t recording this album for me. She was sharing her experience as a beautiful, vibrant black woman, while at the same time sharing that pulsation of Truth that lives beyond skin tone.
“The time is right, I’m gonna pack my bags
And take that journey down the road
Cause over the mountain, I see the bright sun shining
And I want to live inside the glow
I wanna go to place where I am nothing and everything
That exists between here and nowhere
I wanna go to a place where time has no consequence at all, yeah
The sky opens to my prayers”
As I sat in the concert hall last week, I gazed around the room. There were a few people in the room with completions mirroring my own. Mostly, I saw a beautiful sea of shades of brown - a most beautiful tapestry.
As we waited for the performance to begin, I reflected on my journey over the last 25 years.
Twenty-year old Pennie had no clue who she was. She lacked the community that her heart so desperately longed for. What she did know was that there was something greater yet to be discover. Thank Goodness she was brave enough to take the leap into the unknown.
“I wanna go to place were I can hold the intangible
And let go of the pain with all my might
I wanna go to a place where I am suspended in ecstasy
Somewhere between dark and light, where wrong becomes right”
Over the years, I’ve spent time in Japan, Kenya, Peru, Guatemala, India - all areas of the world with humans who look different than me.
At the heart of these cultures is a rich fabric of community - something my own background and upbringing lacked. They work together to support each other, offering connection, resources, protection and respect.
In all of my travels, in each of these communities, I have been welcomed, embraced. I’ve never felt out of place - even though to look at me from the outside I am.
This brings me to my knees - the kindness, the acceptance, the generosity I have received even though I am cloaked in a skin that matches the tone of so many men (and women) who have done so much harm to peoples whose skin tone is rich in warmth and color - this is proof that in the goodness of humanity.
As India performed every track of her album start to finish, incredible (visceral) memories flooded my field. This is the power of music - to transport us to a different time and place, to connect us to the intangible beyond time and space, to evoke incredible emotion and feeling, to reflect. Her music was so influential to me that season of my life, as a looked towards my future with curiosity - as I befriended and fell in love with people who didn’t share my background, my skin color - as I learned about their life, their cultures, their values, their desires.
Twenty-five years later, I’ve sat in many spaces as the sole white person - and never once have I been made to feel as an outsider - quite the opposite, I always feel I belong. Not that I have the same lived experience as the humans in these spaces. I am certainly still on the outside in many ways.
As I sat in the concert hall last week, I understood on a deeper level that to be black is so much more than the color of someone’s skin.
It is a vibrant culture and community, one that knows the hardships of a race that lives in a society where whiteness is blanketed over everything. Where greedy white men have worked to control the narrative, to control everything, to erase your stories, your history, to keep you separate and subservient.
Regardless of how at home I feel in these spaces, I will never know the human experience of being black in this lifetime. As white woman, I will never face the same fears of discrimination and hatred that people of color face, especially here in “the land of the free”.
As I write this an orange tinted lunatic of a white man threatens to obliterate an entire race of peoples from the planet. The leaders of the nation of my birth are supporting a radical Zionist government to eradicate another land of people of color from the planet. History we swore would never happen again, repeating itself, only a couple of generations down line.
All while I sit here in front of the Dark Mother.
“I am ready for Love
If You’ll take me in Your hands
I will learn what You teach
And do the best that I can”
In this world, I am okay with being an outsider.
I don’t identify with a whiteness that places itself superior to all other peoples.
I don’t identify with a whiteness that is defined by colonialism and capitalism, a culture that keeps peoples of the world impoverished and inhumane conditions just to get the cheapest fast-fashion possible, or the next electronic gadget.
I don’t identify with a religion that uses God’s name to incite fear or destroy other civilizations and peoples who think and look differently than them.
When I am visiting a sacred temple to a form of the Divine Mother in India, I am often the only white face among the crowd. Yet, when I look into the eyes of the beautiful brown faces around me, I see Her. I see what makes us similar, and I see our differences as beautiful expressions of the Divine. Glimmers of Light of our Mother’s Love. She looks at us all the same, she pulls us into an embrace with the same love and acceptance.
As India sang, I felt the same. As we sang along to “Brown Skin”, I wasn’t connecting with my neighbors over the shared experience of having the same amount of melanin, but through a commonality beyond skin. This only occurs because through my eyes shines a respect and acknowledgment of the beauty and challenge of peoples of color. I am an outsider. I’m not trying to fit in. My experience will never be the same. And I can connect with you regardless of your skin tone because I see the God in you. We both innately belong.
To close, I honor all the beautiful people around the world who have invited me into your families and communities and shown me there are many beautiful ways to live this life. Thank you to all who have allowed me to see and experience your beautiful culture - your delicious food and music, your art, your language - and saw me as worthy to receive this gift even though my skin is the same color as the people that have caused so much harm in the world in this epoch.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading. I’d love to hear your reflections below. Please feel free to ask any questions you have. And go listen to the incredible works of India Arie.
And, if by some miracle this finds its way to you, India: You inspire me. You have touched my soul, you are wonderful. Thank you.