Did my title make you uncomfortable? Maybe even mildly enraged? Maybe it helped you make sense of some of your own experiences? It has taken me years to allow myself to say it out loud. You can’t imagine my relief when this all dawned on me. Sadly, this is the truth of my reality. Lean in and let me tell you a story.

I am a black woman. I live in Ontario. I have 5 sons. When people see me with my boys they jokingly remark,”oh boy, you certainly have your hands full!” I am quick to respond, “nahhh, I have my heart full.” You have to meet them to know them, but to meet them is to love them. I tell no lie. Well, there is the obvious mothers bias but still, I tell no lie.

Through homeschooling and general everyday life doing, My partner and I have had the distinct pleasure of being intimately involved in their lives and we often marvel at their joy, interests, and incredible perceptive on life. For the most part we have managed to curate a charmed existence for them to revel in. But they are black boys growing up in a North American city. So, You do the Math.

I grew up in West Africa. I left my home at 16 and came to Canada to study Microbiolgy at McGill university. I often say, I didn’t know I was black until I came to Canada. Truly. My identify was wrapped up in the countries of my birth and my childhood and there, blackness wasn’t a thing. I identified as West African. And if you pushed me I would say, I was born in Lagos, grew up in Togo, and my mother is Ghanaian and Father Sierra-Leonian. See, I am west African!

I remember when I discovered that I was indeed black. I was a week or so into my time in Montreal. My program was at the Macdonald campus at McGill in Ste Anne de Bellevue and it’s is pretty far from all the action and fun I imagined was to be had in Downtown Montreal. one day I decided to leave St. Annes and visit St Catherine street. My plan was that I would check out the cool stores and also the Eaton Center Mall. It was an exhilarating walk and I remember roaming the streets and subsequently the mall with excitement and no real plan. I just wanted to feel the cities vibe . I had no intention or need to buy. I checked out different stores whiling away time exploring this part and that part as my curiousity was piqued by my new world. Eventually I tired of the lights and crowds and decided to head back home.

As I walked towards the metro, I noticed an elderly white man walking towards me, mad as hell. At first I thought he was yelling at someone that was within earshot who perhaps had upset him. I looked left. I looked right. Nope. Nobody. Plus he was staring straight at me. Perplexed I wondered if perhaps I was doing something wrong that I was unaware of. I didn’t think so. Oh well. I decided I would just avert my gaze and soon enough we would walk past each other and be gone our separate ways.

He was barely alongside me when he did it. He hocked up a thick wad of phlegm from what sounded like the depths of his being and spat on me. Yelling in French, I heard him use the word nigger amongst other hate-filled racial slurs. I was stunned. I was deeply embarsssed. I was filled with shame. For the first time in my life I felt deep shame of who I am. A black woman. As I wiped the phlegm off my face, I wondered, Had anyone seen that? It didn’t seem so. No one stopped. Wow, I thought to myself. It is almost like I am invisible. I guess this is what it means to be black. Invisible to some and or the intentional target of hate to others.

Fast forward a few decades and I am now the doting mother of 5 beautiful black boys. We live in downtown Toronto. Their dad and I who are both crazy in love with the city make sure they catch the T.O love. Like I said we do a good job of curating a wonderful world for them but they are black boys living in a North American city. So, you do thé math.

I expected that racism will rear it’s ugly head it their world. But I thought I would be able to get ahead of its ugly identity wrapping narrative. This was not to be the case. Sooner than we thought, the systemic racial prejudices interwoven into people and the DNA of society found them.

And it found them in the church. Go figure.

See, By now I had fully acclimatized to my identity as a black woman in Canada and learned to live with the racial micro and macro aggressions that come at people of color on the daily. I picked up some coping mechanisms from my husband, who was born and raised in Canada, and, I developed some strategies of my own.

My husband and I we recognized we had to pass on these coping mechanisms to our sons too. We knew it was coming but we didn’t think the church would be the place that would jumpstart this conversation for us, catapulting us into explaining to our boys the truth about the church, the so-called community of peace and justice.

We attended a local church in Toronto called C3 Toronto. My boys, precocious and inte...

I come from the ocean's side

Nje nshoona (I come from the ocean side)

Nnyemi ke nyekwe, wo fee wo je nshoona (My family both nuclear and extended, we all come from the ocean side)

Bie ji wo shia ( This is our home)

No word of a lie, this is where my dust was drawn

Right here, By the ocean side

All I have to do is to sit by the ocean side.

History aside.

Connection inside.

In this spot right here, its second nature, though i contemplate,

to bear no question as to my place

Instead, I just assimilate

here I know and I am known by my his-story

But first lets take mans-story

Since times inception

before mans conception

My home, the waters,

where my dust was drawn from

has, been.

A strange relationship no doubt, between the created and the curator

Different languages

But both very much communicators

Now give me a babel fish and let me finally hear

hear the words of the oceans deep

What story pray tell, are you telling?

Crash, roar, splash, silence!

Now I hear, I am enraptured as you tell of creatures unimaginable,

Crash, roar, splash, silence!

I hear a song of praise to a God unfathomable,

Crash, Crash, silence!

I am educated of times unlinear, yet of beginning and of end

and

and..

Silence!

And therein the knowledge that this is where my dust is from

Where my strength is drawn

By me and those before me

Nkee nje nshoona

I said I am from the ocean side

Connection aside,

Now my history inside.

Bet you didn't know that I am a part of a fisher folk

Fearless Ga people sustained by the bounty of waters deep

Traversing the ocean with an ease that bespeaks of timeless meets

Long before the crack of dawn

With wide nets and high hopes

With silent prayer and inner song

It is here that we connect with the three

Beneath us, the ocean, on whose horizon the sun overcomes

Over us, the sun, as she journeys outside of time

Around us, time, cocooning our existence

In our vessels we hail all three

Mentally pouring a little libation

In honor of the water, In Memory of yesterday

In honor of the sun, In Memory of tomorrow

In honor of time, In memory of none

Witness to all, Yet witness to none

As we chart familiar ocean highways with no names

History trodden boulevards with no landmarks

This is the daily pilgrimage of my people the Ga, the fisher folk

History inside,

Connection outside

And now both

side by side

I Ahmeda, daughter of Gbese, born on Tuesday

Through birthright, AND through spirit

Unrestricted by time or space

I claim my place

Nkee nje nshoona (I said i come from the ocean side)

N Nyemi ke nyekwe, woo fee wo je nshoona (My family both nuclear and extended, we all come from the ocean side)

Bie ji wo shia ( This is our home)

Ahmeda Mansaray 2006

Welcome to the Dove in the Details podcast. In this episode Ahmeda gives the first of a 2-part introduction by sharing a spoken word piece, Channeling Densu. This piece was inspired by the book “The healers” by Ayi Kwei Armah, a world renowned Ghanaian author. You can buy some of his work here. The full text of the poem can be found in the blog. It is also copied below.

channeling Densu

I can sense my supa-powers
rekindling time-honored internal fires,
releasing barely-suppressed, spiritually-encoded desires
I am channeling... Densu.
Inspired by the healers, I make no more excuses.
with boldness and a humility that is yet to come,
I am unsure, but willing
exposed but hidden.
Nevertheless I carry on
finding courage cocooned in my knowledge
This decision was made b4 I stood.
If truth was one to be told
I re-member the story be-spoken from old
I am chaneling.. Densu.
retreating into the sound-box of my mind
I am led by the melodic timbre of his voice.
Ahhh! I clap my hands with unbridled delight
Light of foot and quickened by earnest
I joyfully journey into my eastern forest.
I am channeling.. Densu.
A captive pigeon, I am now captivated!
released by the shot of a wise inspirer,
freed by the choice of a healer-admirer
Yes!!! Once again I hear the melodic timbre of his voice.
A divine design I know this to be unfolding.
I am channeling.. Densu.
Embracing my journey as it unfolds
I finally conclusively shun my manipulators hold
An elusive understanding of self is manifesting..
Open minds, Open hearts,
a soul bared, a spirit shared
I am channeling... Densu.
With effortless grace I unfurl my wings.
Seeking unparalleled heights I begin to Soar
knowing and growing
A change has come
This beautiful one yet to be, is finally born
I am channeling... Densu.

Sep 7 2008.