I am convinced that most people do not grow up… We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias. — Maya Angelou, Letter to My Daughter

This, my friends, was a very challenging post to write. I struggled. Mightily. And so you will note that comments are closed for this exhibit. Sometimes words are not necessary, but rather to just stand in the stillness of the memories and be tender with the child inside.

I do not remember ever having a dream wanting to be anything growing up… I really just wanted to live in a safe place. A place with no violence. No uncertainty. No feelings of pending doom.

I wanted to survive.

I do not recall any “what do you want to be” conversations happening in my youth. And in looking back, I realize that those conversations/dreams/ideals are for the privileged.

Sometimes survival is the dream and I did survive…in the very best way.

Thank you so much for visiting the museum this month. I want to thank Kym for providing thought-provoking topics for us to unpack.

I will see you all back here on Wednesday with a bit of Unraveling!



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