Just now a older lady (I mean only 50/60yrs) got on the bus. I watched her in passing noticing her neat but 'messed up' hair. It obviously had a relaxer some time ago, and not any time since as her nappy locks were peeking out from beneath her roughly shorn unstyle.
From the back I quickly identified her as some kind of African extraction, at which I felt instant kinship, or connection.
As she turned to walk to a seat her eyes locked on mine momentarily and she stretched out her hand, I stretched out mine and firmly shook it, as we both smiled then the lady walked to the rear of the bus and took a seat.
Two young caucasian men were sitting near by and one remarked "did you see that woman she just shook her hand....?"
I felt the pride swell in my chest, and sat back and observed how honored and special I feel to be part of the brotherhood and sisterhood. Their is a type of kinship that seems to envelope us all no matter on which continent we reside. Whether its a nod of the head, a private smile, a meeting of eyes, dap or a hand shake - there is the acknowledgement that I am connected to you my brother or sister.
I know there are a million other conversations that stem from this one comment, but for now I'm just going to leave it at this shared moment and how egotistically or not I'm SO happy that I am part of this tree and Black is part of my journey this time round.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:On the bus, rainy day