My HOME, My RAGE

i am not a visitor

this is My home

this space of love

a shelter for which

i am

grateful

it is Mine

i own it

born with it

i am not a visitor

 but this home is not always

sunny

it is dark

shades drawn in fear

people falling around me

snatched

forsaken

this home has pain

in this skin

there is rage

black rage

in My home

that which you fear

is that which i have become

in My home

in My space

My temple

you bought me here

sold this body

you gave me this black rage

when you violated my space

took me from My home

brought me here

worked me

and when i screamed black rage

tearing myself from your grip

daring to reclaim my home

My space

looking for

My people

My own land

My own language

you hunted me down

beat me into submission

left me on our knees

taught me to pray

and i got trapped

in your gospel

and now you sell me from behind bars

cheap labor

another price for my body

but black rage is not a commodity

it cannot be sold to the highest bidder

you created this rage

you are the birther

now you see me dangerous

regardless of how

i decorate My home

my space

because you never set me free

when you see me

you see My anger

you want to douse that flame because it reminds you

that i may

some day

grow fat with black rage

tear down My own space

because i am afraid to tear down yours

we are not safe

she did not deserve to die

he never fought back

black rage tells me to light the match

my awareness of oppression

tells me to blow it out

for if i don’t

this is my home

My space

i am not a visitor

this is the skin 

i am in

this is my black rage

i have rights in my home

this is my space

My skin

you try to stifle me in my home

but your hidden truths come out

the sore has oozed onto

streets

exploded in our institutions

you cannot spin it in the media

now we use your gift of

black rage

against you

i know this home

this is My space

and i cannot live in darkness

aware of my karma

My humanness

your being

running from end to end

in this space

with black rage in my heart

i am thrown to the floor

i am threatened

pulled from My car

forced down in My classroom

called nigger on college campuses

i cannot breathe

My black rage

in My throat

knocking on the inside of my teeth

holding in my tears

belly tight with aggression

i scream black lives matter

i scream for the children afraid

i scream for church folk dying

in My home

in this body

how can i not be enraged

it is in these still moments

that the ancestors

swoop down from the trees

wrap their arms around me

comforting this home

this body

leading me to the light

they guide me

protect your home they say

face your rage

speak to it

so i call to you

black rage

invite you to stay

for if you leave

i may forget

why you stir

why you hover

in my home

without you

i will not say

hell no

i will not stand

in my black rage

which i have earned the right to have

this is My home

i am not a visitor

i am now the calm

inside the rage

so watch out

this rage is coming for you

Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker.  She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community. Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.

ARTIST CHRONICLES: From Darkness to Inspiration

In moments of self-doubt, I have often spoken of being in a rut and needing to find my way to the light of creating art. As a writer, there have been times when I have fallen into a personal black hole and my projects lagged. In these moments I have struggled and still struggle with working every day to deepen my art practice and to move my projects closer to completion. I have been known to chastise myself because I was once told, if you are a writer and not writing every day, then you are not a writer.  As I begin to sink into the black hole, I can feel myself caving to the day to day bullshit and my own anxiety. I can be so distracted by life. Self-loathing then ensues. Even as I write this blog, I am keenly aware that I am not developing my short story turned novel, AUNT MAGGIE’S MOJO or The Devil in Angel Brown. This story will appear in a book of shorts entitled, Stories from Cool Lane. The collection captures the colorful people who live in the Cool Lane neighborhood. AUNT MAGGIE'S MOJO tells the story of three generations of women who live in the neighborhood who possess clairvoyant gifts and are bound by family secrets. At the center of the story are Aunt Maggie, who heals with her special soups and her niece Angel Brown, who has the blessing and curse of physically touch. I have been developing AUNT MAGGIE’S MOJO for more than five years. But even with knowing the story from beginning to end, I have been stalled on its progression.  Eventually, I recognized that there was a much broader story brewing  in me. This realization was as overwhelming as Angel's gift. I told myself I should be dumping what’s in my brain on paper and moving the story and this collection forward, but the truth of the matter is I had lost focus. I was in a dark hole! It took some time for me to develop an awareness and  to acknowledge that my stimulus is the world around me and much of my ability to practice my art is informed by the very same stimuli that undermines my progress.  I can tell you these moments are brutal for most artists. We need the world around us. The people we love, the places we enjoy and the things we do, contribute to our work, but is often a challenge to navigate. I find there is a contradiction here.  I need the stimulation, but it can be overwhelming and impede my ability to produce. I have often thought if I could master the ability to take those moments and infuse the emotion and experiences into my art, all would be well. But the truth of the matter is, these interludes are paralyzing. 

Throw Me a 'Bloody Steak'!

In the last year or so, I have learned that while I thought these moments interfere with my practice, they actually figure prominently in my process. Yet I can’t help but have paralyzing fear. Am I creating viable art? Who will value my work? Is it interesting and engaging? All of these questions make me crazy. I am reminded of when two of my neighbor’s pit bulls crashed the invisible fencing and circled me as I tried to get my mail from the box at the end of the driveway. As they circled me growling, I knew if I made a move I would be attacked. It is this type of paralyzing fear that invades my mind and forces the previous questions that stop the motion of my work. When this happens, I need something to help me to transcend this fear. I need a bloody steak thrown to entice the pit bulls to run away, thus freeing me from fear and paralysis.  The steak is the writing release I need and may be thrown by my professor, a colleague, friend or family member.  

Thoughts Need to Simmer...

My Professor Pete Hocking insists that these moments are a necessary part of my process. However, in the last couple of weeks, he gently mentioned he wanted to ‘push’ me a bit to get back to work while expressing his understanding of what I am going through. I heard him, but this was not enough of a bloody steak to motivate me. I soon realized that the impetus and motivation for me to return to AUNT MAGGIE’S MOJO and The Devil in Angel Brown would come from an object, a reflection, a place, a photo, or a conversation that did not initially appear to be connected to anything. Yet everything is really connected. My graduate school advisers have reminded me numerous times that when I think I am not creating, like the soup Aunt Maggie cooks to soothe in AUNT MAGGIE’S MOJO, my thoughts are simmering.

Inspiration Will Always Bring You Back! 

My enthusiasm to emerge from my black hole and return to AUNT MAGGIE’S MOJO came when I visited ‘Cool Lane’. I had not been back to this street or neighborhood in more than 15 years. While working as an assistant manager at a convenient store in the area, I was inspired by this all-black neighborhood that is steeped in history.  I had not been there in more than 20 years, but the moment I turned onto Cool Lane, I was instantly transported back to what I remembered about the neighborhood and the colorful stories it nourished. I begin to envision a community that was once vibrant with people who had deep family ties and care about their neighborhood. And although my stories are fictional and set in this real place, I am weaving in stories of my own family and the community that nurtured me. Today the neighborhood school is populated by less than 5% of the young people who live there. I would imagine that much of the tradition has been lost. But as I stood in front of Armstrong High School on Cool Lane, I begin to recreate the neighborhood in my mind. This was the 'bloody steak' I needed. Visiting this place was the light that illuminated and renewed my interest in moving AUNT MAGGIE’S MOJO and The Devil in Angel Brown to the next stage of development. I reconnected with how important it is to tell the stories of this community. Without seeking specific stimuli, I found the light. I will remember this moment when the next eclipse appears. I will recognize that moment of inertia and relax in the knowing that I will always find my way back to my stories.

To read more about AUNT MAGGIE'S MOJO OR The Devil in Angel Brown and other works in process, please visit www.patriciarcorbett.com

Patricia R. Corbett is a MFA student at Goddard College in Plainfield,Vermont, studying Interdisciplinary Arts.She holds a Bachelor of Arts degree in English from Virginia Union University in Richmond, VA. Patricia is a artist, storyteller, professional writer, published author, womanist, educator, and motivational speaker.  She utilizes storytelling, writing, speaking and networking to create paradigm shifts in education, business and the community. Patricia's writing and artwork takes a critical view of social, political and cultural issues through storytelling. She self-identifies as a queer black woman whose projects challenge systemic societal problems, stereotypes, conventional thought/wisdom, religion and values. Patricia's quest is to expose and uplift the stories of marginalized populations while redefining what is aesthetically beautiful.