“For my dad, who didn’t graduate past 8th grade & got sick working in the underbelly of ships for a country that forgot about him after the cargo was delivered; for my mama, forced to migrate outta her town to clean up after ungrateful white people, who got cancers from all the chemicals scrubbed into her bare hands only to crack jokes from sick beds; for my trans people of color siblings who are underemployed, working in the streets, hustling, exposed to unsafe conditions & doing jobs amerikans never really think about; for the sick people who go unbelieved & beautifully self-doctoring themselves to breathe again & again.
Some people work their spirits to the bone in ways that aren’t considered valuable. Sometimes, the amerikan dream is actually a nightmare you inherited & now, disown. Every year I challenge the limited notions of labor & productivity. Every time, white cis amerikan ableist expectations on brown, poor, transgender, and sick bodies get a little more obsolete and I feel us getting closer to holding one another whole, getting what we need together, like we deserve.”
Contact Kay for amazing workshops, performances and speaking gigs at www.kaybarrett.net.
[visual description: watercolor & ink image of a brown round boi with a cane, wearing a white t-shirt that says “every cane is a drum on the earth” in front of a background of swirling stars.]