The Long Journey Home To Mother

Vanna Venturi house under construction

As a former student of architecture and design, I am not unaccustomed to writing or thinking about journeys and home, in fact, I have previously written an essay entitled The Long Journey Home to Mother for which I reappropriate its title for this blog post. I explored lineage in architecture using the Vanna Venturi House as a point of departure with its simplistic facade and complicated internal structure, eerily this speaks to our now. The house was built in the 1960s which is considered to be a period of liberation, however, in 2020 we are still talking about liberation and how to obtain it, and home and as it relates to space and place has become a central part of my curatorial practice.

I paused on my scheduled posting of the Home From Home series because I am tired, I am exhausted. In the midst of a global pandemic which disproportionately affects black people in part due to the occupancy of roles as essential workers, black communities around the world unite in a continued collective grief. The faceless killer in the form of COVID-19, which was initially deemed as an equalizer due to its supposed non-discrimination of victims is transposed with well known and experienced police brutality. The names of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tony McDade and George Floyd ring loudly in our ears - we continue to weep collectively.

As I think about the heaviness of the past week; the way in which our time continuum has been distorted through this pandemic, I wonder what is different this time? Why have people taken notice now? The names that I have mentioned are not the first that we coin hashtags for or cry over. When speaking about the Home From Home series I mentioned the concept of collective trauma experienced by the world, I attribute part of this difference to a collective viewing and consumption of live news.

In the past when we have witnessed the same senseless blighting of black lives, there have been two things at play; carefully constructed media narratives and the distraction of “life happening fast”. The carefully constructed media narratives will never cease to exist, but they now tussle with a global audience who are disillusioned at the hands of their respective governments over the COVID-19 pandemic, the trust of the public hangs in the balance. To the latter regarding life happening fast, there is now no escape. Prior to a global lockdown, many were able to seek refuge in excuses of work and busy social lives to avoid speaking on the systemic injustices experienced by black bodies globally and frequently. However, in the face of mass furloughing and connecting with those we love and care about via social media in unprecedented levels as we are prevented from occupying physical space with them, we are forced to pause like no other period in living memory. We are forced to see the humanity in others.

What does home mean? To me, home means sanctuary, it offers shelter from the ills of the world. However I am acutely aware that the pandemic presents a dichotomy, home exists as either a place of safety or fear. As I think about Breonna Taylor, we cannot deny that her sanctuary turned into an instant hell as she was shot and killed in her bed. The same bed that she slept on night after night as an essential worker in her role as an emergency room technician who’s work was vital during this pandemic.

Donald Rodney In the House of My Father 1996-7

In a conflicted contrast, I think of those who leave home never to return. I think of the countless black men, women and non-binary folk who question whether they will make it home safely each time they leave home. My heart breaks as I think about the intergenerational pain experienced, the palpable emotion and the sonic etchings of the weakening voices of parents and relatives who will our young people to stay alive and try and figure out a better way to organise and strategise as they reflect on their mortality. My mind darts back to the numerous captions I have read on Instagram over the past few days which recount how George Floyd called out for his dead mother in his last few moments before leaving this world to join that of our ancestors. It is this that I refer to as the long journey home to mother.

The pandemic is far from over, yet many find the strength to go out and protest. COVID-19 literally brought the world to a screeching halt, if people who are at increased risk of dying from this are out, what could cause a person to doubt the urgency of matters arising? As the world takes notice and many of us try to decipher between the heartfelt and the performative, people have started asking what can I do to support? How can I help? There are many who potentially ‘don’t feel equipped’ to be apart of this conversation/action, but for centuries black people have occupied spaces where they have not been equipped, but have had to keep on keeping on.

The help starts with educating yourselves, speaking to friends and family, donating and doing the heavy lifting. There are numerous well documented books and resources out there which are available and reduce the emotional labour attached with asking black people for answers.

Additional steps that non-black people of colour or white people can take to support black colleagues in the workplace are rooted in care:

• Reach out and ask how someone is

• Be cognisant of the space you have and continue to take up

• Reduce the amount of meetings that take place - the pandemic has decimated the the line of demarcation between home and work for many. Waves of emotion are common for many and this is yet another low - please take it easy

• If a black colleague shares ideas or strategies during this period and beyond, do not be complicit in deceit by usurping said ideas and strategies without credit - say our names, acknowledge the source

• Mind your language - yes many black people are outraged and upset, but an offer to shout, scream or vent doesn’t necessarily indicate safety as historically and in our present context, we are characterised as angry or aggressive - nobody wants to feel set up

As Angela Y. Davis said “In a racist society it is not enough to be non-racist, we must be anti-racist”.

Let us remember that our liberation is tied up together and your silence is compliance.

Inequality for some is inequality for us all.

Black Lives Matter.