Be a voice that matters
Join the revolution
The needle pulls thread through our finger tips tying us together across decades and oceans, wars and board games. It doesn’t matter that some fingers have had their tips cut off, been broken, and flattened. Palm to palm we are connected.
The thread sews through flesh and bonds us equally through trauma, and blood lines and the trauma of bloodlines. These invisible ties stretch to the limits, but never break. We travel abroad and don’t speak a word, until we find ourselves back in the kitchen where we grew u. But when our thumb pad rolls around the index finger we find the thread of our family tree.
These stitches heal wounds of lies and omissions of the generations before us. We speak of our surname like a symptom of a genetic disorder, one we’ve all learned to treat but not cure. We are lucky to be friends in a family that doesn’t understand us. We are apples that fell close but rolled wide from the family tree. Others have rolled south instead of north. We can love them best from over here.
We found the grove where our women made history, where statues and plaques have been erected in the names of our ancestors for their bravery escaping “indian” kidnapping, their courage as abolitionists and suffragettes. Among these women, the diagnosis is an honor.
We are strong-willed, hard-working, kind-hearted, open-minded, problem-solving, powerful, organized bad ass women.
We are sewn into good company.
We are mighty.
We are the revolution.
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