delise

How do you define “mothering” in your own life—and has that definition changed over time?
Mothering is like gardening, a stewardship of future hearts, minds, and souls. I have been the garden to many mothers in my early years - taken under their wing and shown how to nourish and take care of the community. It is through this necessary tending that I bloomed into the mother that I am today.

What has mothering revealed to you about who you are, beyond the roles you play?
Motherhood has illuminated the full spectrum of my being, revealing the inherent coexistence of good, bad, and indifference that shapes my perfectly flawed nature. Whether I raise my voice or speak softly, I am always expressing my true self, and I have come to embrace every facet of who I am.

What parts of your journey feel unseen, misunderstood, or unspoken—and deserve to be named out loud?
My path to motherhood has been a beautiful yet chaotic experience. What frequently remains unacknowledged is the immense effort required to maintain well-being and sanity while navigating single parenthood. This journey often goes unmentioned, forcing me to bear the perpetual weight of both my own world and that of my child. We carry this burden with apparent ease, revealing neither the outward signs of strain nor the internal struggles. However, during my time as a single mother, I developed traits, habits, and beliefs that entrenched me in survival mode. It has taken over three years to reconstruct my identity and to embrace the assistance, guidance, and care offered by my wife. I am so grateful for my wife who consistently sees me and offers support for some of my deepest wounds. Along with overcoming single motherhood habits, I am also coping with the daily grief of child loss. Life often goes back to normal, but the deep wounds stick around without enough long-term support.

How has your experience of mothering been shaped by your lineage, your culture, or the community around you?
I watched my mom work endless hours to provide for the five of us while also neglecting herself majority of the time. Before having all of us, my mom was in nursing school and she forfeited her dream of becoming a nurse to be a single working mother. What a trade-off, right? It is this persistence toward care and family that shapes my mothering. Nothing she did for us was for her own self gain - it was selfless and ripe with unconditional love. Although I will not forfeit my dreams and ambitions for the reins of motherhood, I have gleaned the invaluable lesson of unconditional love and care from how my mother chose to mother me. With flaws and all, she always made a concerted effort to show mothering as an active verb and not passive.

What was your postpartum experience like—emotionally, physically, and spiritually? What kind of support (or lack of it) did you receive during that time?
My postpartum experience following the birth of both of my children was beautiful. The community genuinely supported me and my babies with food, time, and love, for which I am eternally grateful.

If you could design the ideal postpartum care system, what would it look and feel like?
Postpartum care would bring together a group of women to support new moms in understanding the deep meaning of motherhood. This service would be free, offered in a loving space focused on radical care and reproductive health. Just like menstruation is often not talked about, many transitions in womanhood go unmentioned. So, postpartum care would include talk therapy and nourishing food. It would be both a celebration and a ritualistic welcome into the sacred journey of mothering.

Can you share a moment of deep joy in your mothering journey—one that lives in your body?
I find deep joy in this present moment where I have been chosen to care for my mother so intimately and tenderly - to return all of her sweetness back to her ten-fold and with a little interest packed on.

What grief, loss, or transformation has shaped the way you show up as a mother?
In 2020, I lost my daughter, Asahli Noelle, a loss that profoundly altered my understanding of motherhood. Preparing to be a single mother of two, her sudden passing broke me, leading to deep isolation and a period of intense self-mothering. My affirmation, "I am actively mothering the parts of me that were silenced as a child," became my healing medicine. More recently, my mother suffered a major brain injury and heart attack, leaving her fully dependent. This experience has highlighted caretaking as a deeply spiritual practice, teaching me discernment and compassion while also deepening my capacity for self-care. Observing her suffering is painful but strengthens my resolve to show up fully for her.

How do you access healing—emotionally, spiritually, or ancestrally?
I am a soul activist. I access healing through all of my artistic endeavors - birthwork, writing, singing, poetry, culinary arts, and sound science. Sound is my alchemy. I access healing through my voice, instruments, and through the Word both spoken and written.

Are there any rituals, practices, or traditions that keep you grounded?
I practice Lucumi which grounds me in all the forces that are conspiring toward my continued elevation and enlightenment. Furthermore, my maternal great grandmother was a woman of great spiritual power who I often venerate to keep me grounded in the work I am destined to continue. She would pray and heal the community in the Lower 9th Ward and host a Harvest Feast every year where she would feed thousands. It is her presence in my heart, mind, and soul that keeps me steady in my soul’s work. Giving thanks to Alice Lastie!

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 to me means having the difficult conversations and powering through the tumultuous moments with true love at the center. I have found that when things “hit the fan,” I am wired to retreat and I have been challenging my heart and mind to power through to truly build community. Our communities are so fractured and mothering can be heralded as one of the main reasons for the fracturing. I was mothered by many women who adopted the “Strong Black Woman” trope oftentimes to their detriment. I invite others into my mothering by asking for help and allowing my vulnerability to guide and support me.

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?
I am no longer interested in pushing against or resisting; however, I reorient my relationship to this system by holding true to my values and not wavering on the care we all deserve. Care is not always pretty and packaged in flowers. Sometimes care looks like telling a friend when they're wrong at the expense of the friendship or stepping away from a space that did not serve your purpose. Nonetheless,

What do you want the world to understand about mothers like you?
When bees make honey, they are creating this sweet nectar for 7 generations ahead. Similar to the bee, I am mothering with legacy in mind. Who will my Sun become and how will his essence become an elixir of love and radical joy for generations to come?

What do you hope your child—or future generations—inherit from your story?
I trust he will inherit the joy, the alchemy, the unconditional love needed to shapeshift this world into a space where his heart, mind, and soul can live freely and with ease. I trust he will inherit the principles of spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical wellness to impact his children and his children’s children. I trust he will preserve his essential nature and if he gets lost in the worldly things, the stories of his ancestors will usher him toward the path of least resistance always just as it has for me. I trust my story will be a consistent reminder of how legacy always prevails.