Healing Through Justice

“I haven’t been challenged intellectually like this in a very long time. My beliefs have been challenged and I have also reinforced old beliefs I once held to be true… I am continuously learning and unlearn- ing an overwhelming amount of knowledge.” This was my response to a reflection question we had to answer on day six of the John Lewis Fellowship. I remember I hadn’t participated once in lecture/ panel discussions up to that point and was hoping I wasn’t going to be called on to reflect about my feelings. Then Hanane calls on me. Of course. Feeling numb, but shaking, I read my response out loud to everyone. Sat back down. And over-thought about how I executed my response, whether it was too “real” or “emotional,” or if I needed to say more or say less. All of these thoughts running through my head, none of them were telling myself to relax and just be. No one else was deconstructing my personal reflection but me. This was a raw interpretation of how I felt for the first three weeks of the program. What bothered me more was that I had been in spaces with other people just as passionate as me about human rights abuses and social change. Although I am introverted and awkward most of the time, I had also been in spaces where I could talk about myself and be comfortable with being uncomfortable. So, I didn’t understand my outward feelings of fear and reclusiveness.

My personal reflection presentation was dedicated to the fluctuation of emotions that I felt through- out this Fellowship. I had four slides, all of which represent the four weeks I was in Atlanta. I assigned an overarching feeling that I experienced each week.

Week 1: Intimidation and Loneliness. During the first week of the program I was definitely overwhelmed, more so by feeling incredibly intimidated by the other Fellows. Many of the Fellows intellectualized the material we were learning, and I felt like I couldn’t keep up as someone who is accustomed to taking time to process my thoughts and content. Therefore, I found myself mostly in my room reflecting about my place within the group and what human rights work meant to me.

Week 2: Robbed & Cheated. I felt robbed and cheated of my own history. Learning about voter suppression in the South with Dr. Carol Anderson, to talking about racism, law, and voter ID’s, to how to practice forgiveness in social justice work with Dr. David Hooker, to watching the slaughtering of Native Americans in The Canary Effect. I was heartbroken at the fact that so much history I was kept from knowing. My trauma felt silenced as I was trying to get through each day, which felt like I was being smacked in the face constantly.

Week 3: Hope. As I was beginning to lose hope, and honestly feel debilitated, I met an incredible group of people and their names are Taliyah, Kaitlyn, Yanique, Angilene, and Ianne from viBe Theater Experience in New York City. I spoke to each of the young girls after our workshop together about their ambitions and the current conditions of their neighborhood. One experience that struck very close to me was the story about gun violence and death Angilene shared with me. I am from NYC. We all occupy the same community yet share different stories of grief and trauma. I saw a sparkle in each one of their eyes when they were talking to me. Despite the struggle in each in of our communities, they find community within each other and use their history to guide their path for the future.

The women from viBe reignited a fire within me that I thought I lost at the beginning of this Fellowship. It has inspired me to do my action project with viBe Theater on a performance piece about youth experience with gun violence in the context of NYC, with spoken-word said throughout the piece.

Week 4: Everything and nothing at the same time. After a friend from back home asked me about how my experience as a John Lewis Fellow has been thus far, this meme directly describes my mind in that moment. The scribbles represent a combination of thinking, overthinking, exhaustion, and just process- ing everything I have felt, seen, smelled, and absorbed during this program. I think it is okay to be in this frazzled phase. I think it is actually a part of the process and shows that I have taken a lot from the other Fellows. What I wanted to highlight in my presentation and reflection is the cycle of thinking you know yourself + your place in this world, but then being faced with unexpected challenges that you are not sure how you will survive. It is in the struggle where you find your true sense of self. Just remember that your community will always be there to uplift you.

As I close my reflection piece, I want to give recognition to Coleman G. Howard. He was one of our speakers and the organizer of the Under My Hood spoken-word project. Coleman gave me the space to “own my story” during this Fellowship. I remember sitting in the classroom shaking, not wanting to share my spoken word poem about my father and the pain he has caused me.

But Coleman believed in me and challenged me. He allowed me the space to be vulnerable, fragile, and strong all at once. I told a room full of strangers about some of the trauma that has hurt me the most. However, after I claimed my story, no one could hurt me. Through this process I gained a new perspective about forgiveness, self-care, and the power of storytelling. I am looking forward to seeing what grows from this experience and how I will be able to implement these teachings in my action project and public health work within my community.

This last part of my reflection is a poem that I wrote during the program. I hadn’t written poetry in a couple years, but our session with Coleman inspired me to go back to writing. I came across one of my old pieces that I had written about racial justice and decided to make a part two to it in the context of my experience in the John Lewis Fellowship and the theme of the repetition of patterns in our history and our role to stop the pattern of injustice.

My Pantoum to You (part two): Carry On

My scars will only serve as a reminder that I got back up again

But I want to be fragile

Scars hurt when people pour salt on them…

Shaped by my trauma + unable to heal past scars– I was afraid to see what a liberated Dariann looked like

But I want to be fragile

How do I allow myself to heal and move forward?

Shaped by my trauma + unable to heal past scars– I was afraid to see what a liberated Dariann looked like

The pain inside of my chest grows… I was fed a false conception of my history. But how must I re- claim it?

How do I allow myself to heal and move forward?

The pain inside of my chest grows… I was fed a false conception of my history. But how must I re- claim it?

Cold shoulder. Heartbroken, Misspoken. Alone. And still…

I rise…

Cold shoulder. Heartbroken, Misspoken. Alone. And still…

Scars hurt when people pour salt on them…

I rise.

My scars will only serve as a reminder that I got back up again.

Thank you for reading.

In Love and Solidarity,
Dariann Rickerson

Image Sources:

Woman silenced: Pinterest – Iyawo

Webcomics: Oh, just my mind