By Shanize “Byrd”
A few years ago, I was scrolling through my Facebook timeline and came across a stunning portrait of a familiar Black woman. Her body was full and adorned with mixtures of paint. There were crescent moons, midnight skies and stars draped across her. She looked like a beautiful painting; like one you’d find in a posh gallery. Her eyes were deep and her smile was warm, which made me feel joy. She stood in a forest surrounded by lush green trees and while her head was tilted to the sky, I saw something special. I knew this Black woman, we met in our circles of Black educators around New Orleans. Her energy has always been infectious and she effortlessly pulls you near with it; making you want to know more. A few months ago, I saw the portrait again on my timeline. But this time it was a beautiful illustration on the cover of a book titled “The Clearing”.
Naomi S. Daugherty is a poet, spiritual healer, educator and servant to Black women. She sat down with me to share her journey of writing her book, The Clearing and what healing means to her. Naomi was very candid and vulnerable about the dark memories that she channeled through her poetry. She mentioned how Toni Morrison’s “Beloved” sparked her inspiration to write her own collection of poems that told a story of a Black woman owning her pain. Specifically, she felt connected to the Baby Suggs character.
“To see Baby Suggs be called an ‘unchurched preacher’, immediately made me feel ‘this is not the sanctified woman.’ This is not the woman whose shirt is clean. This is not the one who thinks themselves as high and holy. Or who is going to pretend like they ain’t neva been through shit,” said Daugherty
And when she said it, I understood why she felt connected with the idea of being an “unchurched preacher”. Throughout the entire conversation she gave me a word like I was her Moses, who she called to the mountaintop. Naomi is no stranger to Spirit. She told me how she grew up in the Baptist church and how the adults around her spoke prophecies of her being a healer; a shepherd to God’s flock. But, she knew her whole being wasn’t in complete alignment with the doctrines of the Church, especially as a proud queer woman. She connected with Baby Suggs because she was a woman who knew God and wanted her people to know God well enough to achieve their own healing.
“To see Baby Suggs, who was an unchurched preacher, who was a slave. To say not only am I going to move my heart for the spirit of myself. Not only am I going to use this love I got to give for my family. But I’m actually going to invite the collective of Black folk to come to a place where I have been so that we all can get in on this loving. So that we all can get on this healing”
Like many of us, who embark on a journey to heal with others, the journey first begins with us recognizing our own pain. Naomi talked about how choosing healing was literally a matter of life or death. She boldly shared how she has carried heavy thoughts of suicide around with her for years. From losing her father at a tender age, bullied for her full-figured body to being molested and abused, Naomi is quite familiar with pain. Her therapist helped her to realize how she uses art to take her destructive thoughts and turn them into something constructive and beautiful.
by age 12 i was already
a dead daddy’s child
a bitch according to grandma
molested
evicted
poor
somebody’s burden
A forgotten memory
[Excerpt from Naomi’s poem Beloved]
The way Naomi speaks of her pain is quite interesting and intriguing because she does it with so much grace and humility. And you can see this glow in her eyes and her teeth are coated with shine when she shares her revelations. It’s the confidence for me. I inquired about how she came into her confidence and how I can get it capsulated and bottled up for me to take on my worst days. She proceeded to tell me a sweet story of one of her earliest memories of when her mother instilled confidence in her.
“My mama made sure I was loved. I remember there was this one time when I was in school. I was getting bullied really bad and I came home and was like ‘Mama, I’m ugly.’ And we didn’t have a lot of money. When I say my mama called off work, took me out of school the next day and we pampered ourselves. She just wanted me to witness my own self and nurture that self.”
That coated bright smile appeared again while she recalled the memory and my heart smiled right along with her. Hearing Naomi talk about how she felt ugly at such a young age triggered my past of feeling unworthy of beauty. I had a similar moment when I was a child; around eight years old. I was staring in my mirror, examining my brown face. I looked at how round my face was because of my meaty cheeks. I saw how wide my nose spread across my face and my eyes weren’t an exotic color. I thought I was ugly, so I began to cry about it. My mother came into my room to find me crying in my mirror. When she asked me what was wrong and I told her, she blasted me for basically being an “ungrateful” girl. I immediately felt shame and I buried it deep in my psyche. I shared this story with Naomi, but not as a way to condem my mother. My mother and I discussed this in therapy last year, so I wasn’t calling her down to the carpet at this moment. I wanted to lift up the polar opposites of how our mothers reacted and responded to our shared pain and the impact of it all. Naomi let it be known that her mama didn’t always react with such kindness, but knew those tender moments of softness nurtured her. She continued to say how often Black girls are not shown tenderness because we are expected to be strong and take pain.
“They like to deny Black girls of gentleness! We don’t get to be fragile! It’s like, shit, we come out of the womb expected to be Ruff Ryders.”
She shared ways she practiced taking back her power by finding moments of pleasure in the midst of pain. Naomi proudly talked about the significance in discovering masturbation. Self pleasure allowed her to gain a sense of ownership over her body, especially after enduring a traumatic sexual experience. She captured it in one of her poems, “first time.”
“My actual first time was not mine, it was taken from me. So, this moment where I gave this pleasure back to myself, when I found comfort in this own and pleasing this own body. Even though it (the poem) may make auntie uncomfortable, I pray that it brings comfort to a 16 year old girl, who still ain’t told nobody.”
The author continued to express some angst around her family’s response to her book because some of her painful memories are entwined with relatives. I could relate to her deeply on this because some of my own literature involves the mentioning of my family. I am learning that I do have to be mindful of the potential impact, but to not neglect focusing on my intention. I want to honor the stories of my relatives with integrity, but some of their actions causing me pain is my truth. I have to honor my truth as Naomi honored hers in The Clearing. I was humbled when she said that she wanted to steal my gem, “My intention is not of malice.” And ma’am you may utilize my words any day!
Lastly, we agreed that there is a divine responsibility in sharing your truth. The responsibility is first to yourself because “the truth shall set you free.” But there is also a responsibility to others, who can resonate with your story. We had a “sister-girl” moment over our shared appreciation for Solange’s “A Seat at the Table” because of the way it helped us to release and tell our own stories. I asked Naomi what she wanted her readers to receive from her book.
“My deepest wish is that this brings someone closer to themselves. That this helps someone purge out something else, some of their own things.”
The more this woman before me talked and preached her gospel, I could see why I was drawn to her. It was more than her confidence, it was the light of God upon her. We rounded our conversation with my favorite question, “why you wanna fly Black bird?” When I told her the context of the question, deriving from Nina Simone’s song, she turned her back to me to show her tattoo of Nina and James Baldwin. In that moment, I felt like that was a signature from our ancestors; letting us know that this moment between us had been ordained for a higher calling.
“I think about what Malcolm said ‘by any means necessary’ and what it meant for me at this moment. I was like ‘oh ima protect this spirit by any means necessary!”
And may your spirit continue to guide more people, especially Black women, to there place of healing.
You can purchase The Clearing by visiting Naomi’s website naomischerelle.com and follow her endeavors on her social media pages @naomischerelle.
The FULL interview “I Became My Own: Healer” is now streaming on our YouTube page, make sure to subscribe @blackbyrdinitiative.
