Excited Zygote Theory: Suburban Atlanta late 1960s
My comfort, peace, and happiness, while being surrounded by the folks at the #forfreedomscon in LA a few weeks ago, brought back these connected snippets ...
Sly and the Family Stone performance of "Thank You Falettinme Be Mice Elf" on the new, to Atlanta, Soul Train. Was it the song's message, Sly’s moves, smile or his red jumpsuit that found my 11 year old self blurting out "I think I want to marry that man!"? It wasn't the first time that my southern-raised mother muttered, "where DID you come from?"
A group of young adults sitting on the ground, singing songs, playing guitars, wearing long strands of beads, smiling in Lennox Square. I paused, intrigued by their energy and spirit and was handed a newspaper with a psychedelic butterfly on its cover, causing my soul to respond with an 11 year old version of "these are my people!" My mother grabbed my hand, returned the newspaper to the the group and repeated her question about my origin.
The seeds of my transition to long hair, beads, Indian print tops, bell bottoms, taking up the ukulele and guitar and learning freedom songs had been planted.
My sociology professor later shared, jokingly, a theory: When the stork is flying around with its load of zygotes, some of the fertilized ovum are so excited that they jump out prematurely, landing in the wrong womb and, thus, wrong family.
Though my mother, as many mothers then, struggled to understand me or my pre-adult passions, I am grateful for the places, including large cities, my father’s job took us, my ancestresses, the tough yet open-hearted survivors, and, that this milieu engendered in me a happiness when in the midst of a rich mosaic of voices, stories, generosity, kindness, and soulful conversations.
A place to decant my brain, to capture inspiration and share fresh insights. [Posts from 2015 onward]