Issue #04: Unlocked
A monthly curation of Black, Global Indigenous, and POC voices
Welcome to Unlocked, a monthly selection of content from Black, Indigenous, and POC creators on Substack. Unlocked is a project from Locked In, Substack’s unofficial BIPOC writing community. Each month, Locked In members share work that they’re proud of to be considered for feature in this publication. If you identify as BIPOC, request to join Locked In.
This month’s issue is curated by Locked In member Ricky Denham.
Hey y’all! I’m Ricky, a member of the Locked In community. I write Ricky Denham’s Words, a newsletter where I share a collection of my thoughts, poetry, short stories, recommendations, dreams, and nightmares. One post that I’m excited about from this past month is a collaborative piece I wrote with John Noire, LaChelle Chrysanne and Jacquie Verbal paying homage to music videos, and its cultural significance to society.
Here are a few other community submissions from August 2024 that resonated with me.
FOOD
Stories I Wrote While Waiting for You To Tell Them To Me, by
This essay provided a personal character development with food. From the feeling of fulfillment through cooking in the kitchen, to eating with your Loved ones, and the importance of camraderie and intimacy all in between. Food often has more personalities than we give credit for. Even the names of certain dishes hold significant meanings. The sacred moments around food, and the subject of food are oftentimes taken for granted too. From a cultural and a familial standpoint, Tan beautifully shares her visionary storylines using food as a template. This spoke to my Taurus placements heavily.
Writing about food has helped me realize that a large part of the way I feel and understand the world, myself, and myself in relation to others, is through food.
There is a food I associate with every person and memory of significance in my life.
That food becomes a mirror, reflecting to me my inner world of my past, present and future selves, co-existing all at once in this body. That food reflects the way all those selves that are me, relate to a specific person and memory.
COMMUNITY CARE
The practice of preservation requires sincere delicacy. Too many brilliant and one-of-a-kind artists through all platforms unfortunately don’t get the recognition they deserve. And due to the lack of recognition and respect, preservation could become scarce. And so much beautiful art sadly becomes extinct due to multiple obstacles outside of control, such as the lack of access to resources in order to sustain the time, the health, and the energy to produce your product you come to love, in the midst of continuous hyperactive misogynoir. Due to multidimensional hardships, it’s imperative to hold on to your soul, your heart, and your work. If we cannot hold on to our work due to an unbearable amount of obstacles beyond our control, then we need hold on to the idea and the memory of our work. But it’s easier said than done. And losing alchemized parts of yourself because they are no longer physically sustainable nor righteously protected could cause a heavy amount of grief like losing a friend, or a close family member. Brown poetically delves into the call for action to properly and attentively care for our imagination while referencing the craftsmanship of ancestral artists, such as the sculptor, Augusta Savage, and poet Lucille Clifton to keep the legacy breathing, respectively.
There is no doubt that Black Women tend to our work with immense care. However, there are obstacles we have no control over regarding whether that care is preserved for future generations to witness. It is possible, in some cases, that artists whose names I do not intimately know felt that the perseverance of their work was not a necessity. It is a possibility that the process of making their art was what enabled them to persevere from day to day & their culmination of those days—their life was enough. Indeed, our lives are always enough. The ritualist process of gathering to make their art empowered them to live life as art—an Assemblage. Indeed, our lives are always enough.
COMMUNITY CARE
Summer of love, by
A couple of months ago, Hurricane Beryl tragically brought ill-fated circumstances to the Caribbean. As a regular visitor, Vivekandan and her 11-year-old son, Rohan, turn lemons into lemonade by providing relief the best way they can. But it was how the community beautifully responded to the disaster by bonding with each other through intimate activities and moving through the pain. That work brought the people closer together and I found those moments absolutely touching. Vivekanandon closes her essay through an anecdote about the Divine Order, affirming that their time and dedication at Treasure Island, Jamaica was needed, and necessary.
I myself experienced a masterclass in what is possible with solidarity, dynamic leadership, vibrant civil society, cooperation and coordination between community groups, partnership and support. Not to mention what it can mean to rebuild with stewardship of the environment as a guiding vision, alongside the idea of building back with love. Love is indeed at the very center of the Treasure Beach ethos.
THERAPY
The Retreat, by
How often do you shield yourself from yourself? Have you ever unraveled yourself to the point where you realized the personal issues within you come from deep circumstances from childhood in which you never realized affected you until a given moment you weren’t prepared for? Samira shares a gravitational experience through her captivating story during a cult-like retreat.
I do not save money. I earn it and I spend it. I live my life on my terms, finally free from my mother's burden and my own shame. But here’s the truth – the one that you all want to hear. No matter how much I earn and how much I spend, I am still that young college girl, unkempt and ungroomed. I cannot escape her. And that’s why I hate money. It prevents you from seeing yourself as you truly are. It makes you into a sham version of yourself. Feel free to judge me. There is nothing you can say to me that hasn’t been said before.
LIBERATION
Tifanai’s rawness is impeccable. This particular segment of her deep 4-part narrative is a heavy subject matter. However, the quality of essential healing, and joy remains in the promised land, even when the situation seems almost impossible. Tiffanai does not hold back the weight of her tongue and amplifies the message of maternal community and the safety within it, and the compassion for self while listening and being patient with your heart and body. Please take deep breaths while reading this one.
Abortion (and miscarriage) are forms of birth, with physiological and psychological experiences that intersect in sacred ways. It astounded me to experience, with the most intimate parts of me, how the legal system, and the religious systems that sustain it, change the relationships we have with our bodies, each other, and even our own tongues. Our movements, e.g. pro-choice or pro-life, that center the law or the legal system, sterilize our most sacred experiences and we all suffer for it. Millions of people, who are experiencing miscarriages and abortions every year, are birthing in silence, shame, and without the community-love we are each entitled—and need. The law is not a guide. The law is a gatekeeper, a barrier, and even an illusion. How am I allowing systems that cannot love me to define me and my experiences?
MIDLIFE
This Is 55, by
The beautiful thing about getting older is the wisdom you bring along the way. You get to choose what kind of figurative materials you want to keep in your spiritual briefcase along your journey, and what you choose to let go. For many of us, being alive is expensive (and getting more expensive) and we continue to fight for the joy to live. Natividad’s self-reflection in turning 55 years old details her triumph through her trials and tribulations. I’m glad she is still here with us.
Sometimes, I can’t believe I’ve made it this far. Despite the depressive episodes, I try to live my life one day at a time. Sometimes just an hour or even a minute at a time. But when I wake up each morning, I’m grateful to have another day.
This issue of Unlocked was curated by Ricky Denham, who writes Ricky Denham's Words, and edited by Zefan, who writes VERY LOST. To be considered for feature, request to join the Locked In community.
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Yoooo, @Ricky chose some heaters for this months post!
This looks amazing! I cannot wait to dig into all this gorgeous, important writing.