I Come From A Place

We hold the memories of the places and experiences most precious to us. We carry the strength of those places. We carry the tenderness, the lessons, and the good wishes of our loved ones still there. We share its goodness wherever we go. We protect it and hold space for it. It is us. 

Love Letter, July 8, 1954

(Black Love and Resistance) 

Lynda Grace Black

“Just as the Civil Rights Movement was taking center stage, my parents fell in love and began raising a family establishing a foundation of love, devotion and faith for generations to come.”

After my parents transitioned, I found a few of their handwritten love letters, some with airmail envelopes postmarked 1954, were such a beautiful find documenting their love story. 

Rachel Dugan’s Frying Pan 

Athena Dugan

“The family's treasure, a hot pan full of fried chicken, fried fish, cornbread, and many other goodies a Southern mother can make with an old, old cast iron pan. A great traveller, from one house to the next. Mom, pictured here, is from Hartsville, SC, then moved to South Philly, 16 S. 6th street. She loved to dance and was stylish. At 18 or in her 20’s, my mom worked for a white woman who denied her an education. She worked with her until her mid-30s. Mom was not educated and gave up learning to read. It weighed on her. Of course, people don’t want you to learn because it disadvantages them - the folks that don’t want you to learn. She was an excellent seamstress w/ a great green thumb.”

- Athena 

Marie-Monique Marthol

Inez’s House

“This outfit, inspired by one worn by my grandmother, Inez Sebastian in a 1912 photo of my maternal grandparents, reflects some of my deep ancestry. The skirt and ‘waves’ on which she stands, symbolize the many oceans crossed by my ancestors, myself, and countless family members before and since. I was born in St. Kitts to Haitian and Kittitian parents. During my childhood, my immediate family migrated to the United States; Philadelphia is now my home. Our collective legacy exists throughout the world.”

Inez’s House

Let the circle be unbroken

As we break this fertile ground

For "Inez was here!" her children say

 That's why the Earth spun round and round

This house is not the same, having lost its Center

      Fruit falls early to the ground

      Children exit under "ENTER" 

But the garden must be tended, leaves painted on the tree

     For we all dwell in Inez's house

     As Inez dwells in me.

by Marie-Monique Marthol (Granddaughter of Inez & Joseph Sebastian, and Lucita & Antoine Marthol; Daughter of Elise and Joseph François Marthol)

c.1995