Beloved Toni

Fierce, intelligent, determined queens - Women’s History Month is a meaningful celebration to highlight these pivotal figures. It always excites me. I’ve always been surrounded by women who inspire and motivate me. However, the recent loss of a American writer, Nobel Laureate and overall badass Black woman has left me yearning. Chloe Anthony Wofford Morrison, also known as Toni Morrison, joined the ancestors on August 5th in 2019. Her loss has left a gulf in the writing world, in the intellectual thinking spaces and the African American community as a whole.

While her death was more than two years ago, it seems fairly recent to me. For, I had imagined her as this Auntie figure or a close family friend. Her work truly ushered me through some dark times. So, when I heard of her passing, I jotted down some thoughts and decided to turn them into a letter.

Since you’ve been gone, I’ve thought a lot about your writing and how I’d discovered it as a young woman. I was attending a high performing parochial school and was surrounded by students who were from different ethnic, social and religious backgrounds than me. It was extremely competitive and I found myself feeling completely out of place. Then, I picked up The Bluest Eye.

I instantly connected with the story of Pecola Breedlove growing up in Ohio during The Depression far more than the novels that were being introduced to me as “classics”. The themes of ‘whiteness as the beauty standard’ and ‘seeing vs being seen” really resonated with me. It seemed as though those words were written to me exclusively. The imagery and the language was wholly familiar and each character felt like kin.

After that, I sought out your writing. This powerful quote from Beloved affirmed my sisterly connections. (the few that I had) “She is a friend of my mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.” You were a friend of my mind. Your stories led me to other writers who played a part in my growth as a young woman. Sonia Sanchez, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni and Gwendolyn Brooks are a few of the others who helped shape my fierce love for literature. This circle of sister writers provided me with a lens to see the world.

Your speeches and interviews gave me the courage to speak after trauma had driven me to silence for almost a year. I’m reminded of the discussion with Charlie Rose...how people repeatedly asked you if you’d ever write about white people. You immediately rendered the question as illegitimate and explained how it had no basis in literary discourse. I nearly fell off my chair when you spoke of the “white gaze” and the notion that it need not be centered.

A strong Black matriarch who spoke with her back straight, shoulders square, chilling eye contact and the same calm demeanor... You taught me that I didn’t always have to be loud to be right. And that’s a much needed skill to use as armor against the “angry Black woman” trope. Your impact is enduring.

I wonder if you knew how you inspired an entire generation and contributed to the culture or that your words would be timeless and timely. I’d like to think that you did and am comforted in the knowledge that I can access your writing at any time. Who was it that said that a person never truly dies as long as there are people alive to speak their name? We speak your name Ms. Toni.

These are words I know you’ll never read but they provided me with comfort. Flowers are for the living and I promise to give them to those who deserve them...in your honor.

Rest well Ms. Toni. May the ancestors be pleased.

La’nee