Charm

How do you define “mothering” in your own life—and has that definition changed over time?
Mothering in my lifetime has evolved to include the ways in which I care for myself during the primary parenthood process. Learning to tend to my heart, head, and harvest are at the core of my ability to show up as the best mother I can be.

What has mothering revealed to you about who you are, beyond the roles you play?
Motherhood has revealed that my purpose as a righteous teacher and spiritual guide goes beyond my womb, onto the children in my home, and through them expands into the world. My children often reflect back to me that which I have nurtured, as well as the areas of growth that I must continue to gracefully and gradually cultivate.

What parts of your journey feel unseen, misunderstood, or unspoken—and deserve to be named out loud?
I was raised by my Aunt, who was also a single parent/guardian. I never once imagined that I too would parent my children as a single woman, and every day I acknowledge the reality that while I have an amazing, abundant community of supporters and contributors to our lives, the sacrifice, the work, including all of the invisible labor that comes along with parenting, belongs to me.

How has your experience of mothering been shaped by your lineage, your culture, or the community around you?
My experience as a mother is actively repairing and restoring the rightful place of mothers as guides, healers, teachers, and nurturers in my lineage. The intentionality that I strive for—whilst also being honest with myself when I make choices that don’t align with my highest parenting principles—propels me forward in writing my own story, my own “mother book.”

What was your postpartum experience like—emotionally, physically, and spiritually?
My postpartum experience across two children was quite different. With Malcolm, I had to truly reconstruct my core due to medical negligence on the part of a midwife at Ochsner Baptist Alternative Birthing Center, but I was blessed to be able to be present to my body’s healing, engaging in Kemetic yoga training, mind-body yoga, and personal training. I breastfed both of my children and benefited from maternity leave. I was well-loved and supported during that first year following Malcolm’s birth. However, with Mecca, I had a VBAC (vaginal birth). I did bond with both of them; however, Mecca and I did not have nearly as much holistic support from her biological dad.

If you could design the ideal postpartum care system, what would it look and feel like?
The prayer is that an ideal postpartum experience emerges not just for me, but for other women. I would love to see a universal basic income for mothers who give birth to children, supporting all aspects of child development. I would love to see the option for in-home care and smaller hubs for women’s health check-ins that provide access to restorative health practices—practices that honor a mother’s need for privacy but also intentionally create communities around postpartum mothers.

Can you share a moment of deep joy in your mothering journey—one that lives in your body?
Choosing to reclaim extended close contact through the practice of using traditional cloth and fabric to wrap my children onto my body and wear them close to my heart and their food source is an experience I will never forget. My children are very affectionate, aware of their need to feel safe, and still seek close contact as a form of bonding and connection. They embrace as a means of thriving and accessing the nurture they deserve.

What grief, loss, or transformation has shaped the way you show up as a mother?
I still mourn and grieve the loss of matrilineal practices stripped away from my Afro-Indigenous ancestors. Additionally, I often sit with the fragility of my own relationship with my mother, due to distance between the two of us so early in my life. As a result of this reality, I strive to actively reclaim and re-center the matrilineal magic bestowed upon me. I strive to activate my memory through self-study, observing my own children, and collective memory. I work to heal from the inside out, grow myself beyond what I was taught is “effective parenting,” and I remain responsive to my children’s emotional and social needs.

How do you access healing—emotionally, spiritually, or ancestrally?
The depth of my connection to God and my most benevolent ancestors keeps me grounded in the higher purpose of mothering, as well as acknowledging what is truly a divine assignment in the natural order. I feel honored to share, teach, preserve, and pass on the spiritual practices and spiritual determination of my foremothers and forefathers to my children.

Are there any rituals, practices, or traditions that keep you grounded?
Engaging both of my children in the act of giving care to the plants, herbs, vegetables, and fruits in our garden—as well as cultivating an enthusiasm for eating from the land and being in right relationship with the land we are on—has been an incredibly important cyclical ritual for my family and me. Family spiritual baths, healing teas, and the children learning to lead our daily prayers are also a special medicine for myself and my children.

What does community care mean to you—and how do you invite others into your mothering journey to help bridge gaps of support, understanding, or visibility?
Community care is responsive, timely, and consistent. Prior to having children, I was more likely to self-isolate under certain conditions or be hyper-independent. I’ve learned to advocate not only for others but also for myself and my children.

To mother within systems that weren’t made for you is an act of resistance. How do you navigate, push against, or reimagine those systems in your everyday world?
One way that I resist oppressive systems is to continue to self-define my identity and align my values and actions to create structures and systems I’m comfortable with, especially as it relates to our health and well-being. I always tell my children that I am their first doctor and that soon they will be their own first doctor. We go see “Dr. Mommy” when ailments arise, which really brings us back to respect and honor for her gifts to us.

What do you want the world to understand about mothers like you?
I really want the world to understand that mothers like me are capable, but not at all overly invested in conventional definitions of strength and resilience. Mothers like myself deserve care that is coordinated, intentional, and in alignment with restoration and repair. For mothers like myself, every ancestral mother inside of us is resisting “superwoman” tropes that decenter our well-being. We are worthy of rest, respect, reparations, protection, provision, and pleasure. Women like myself are striving to redefine our relationship to labor.

What do you hope your child—or future generations—inherit from your story?
I want very much for my children to be loved so well that it empowers them to easily recognize when they are not being loved adequately, and to shake or get up from tables where love is not being served. I pray my children continue to embody the essence of God’s love for all our relations, including humans, bodies of water, animals, and so on. I want them to live in such a way that liberates them from fear.