___ The online videos making their way around the networks these days show an encouraging trend. Girls who aren't yet old enough to outgrow playing with toys are outgrowing silence and shame. They're speaking up and being heard. They are, as they say, going viral. People are listening.

One video that was especially popular during holiday time was this one of a little girl complaining about the way toys are marketed by gender. Sure, I can grow up and complain about Barbie's role in my life when I was a kid, but it's so much more refreshing to see this child speak up about it now, telling us that she deserves more as she lives through girlhood. When young people find the courage to say for themselves that they need something more, they deserve at least for us to take a moment to listen. 

And here’s a girl who says that all of us deserve better – this thirteen year old talks about slut shaming, what it is and why it’s hurtful. Her insightfulness blows me away.

And, of course, I gotta love little girls raising their voices through music. “My First Hardcore Song” is by Juliet, also known as the 8 year old who’s way more badass than I’ll ever be.

In a more disappointing example of a video gone viral, a Girl Scout named Taylor is using her voice to ask people to boycott Girl Scout cookies, in order to show opposition to the Girl Scouts’ decision to include a transgender child in their organization. I’m glad to see girls finding their voices, but it makes me cringe to hear such a voice putting down others. So instead, in this example I’m applauding Bobby Montoya, the transgender child brave enough to speak up for the chance to be where she feels she belongs. She’s opened the doors for a delicious way to make a difference – all we have to do is eat more cookies to show our support for an inclusive Girl Scouts organization. Sign me up! Also, check out Girl Scouts’ new Year of the Girl campaign.

Overall, I’m loving the presence of girl voices in viral videos these days. They’re not listening to any messages that tell them to grow up before they speak up, or to stay silent their whole lives. Sure, imagine a world full of women who raised these voices in girlhood. But before we fast forward, let’s stop and listen. The girls are speaking to us. Right now.

 

 

Today is the last day of Women's History Month. How did you celebrate?

Here's a poem from a woman who's an important part of my history, Gwendolyn Brooks, the first black woman to hold the position of poetry consultant to the Library of Congress. A poem rich with history.

Who are your favorite female poets?


to the Diaspora

you did not know you were Afrika

When you set out for Afrika
you did not know you were going.
Because
you did not know you were Afrika.
You did not know the Black continent
that had to be reached
was you.

I could not have told you then that some sun
would come,
somewhere over the road,
would come evoking the diamonds
of you, the Black continent--
somewhere over the road.
You would not have believed my mouth.

When I told you, meeting you somewhere close
to the heat and youth of the road,
liking my loyalty, liking belief,
you smiled and you thanked me but very little believed me.

Here is some sun. Some.
Now off into the places rough to reach.
Though dry, though drowsy, all unwillingly a-wobble,
into the dissonant and dangerous crescendo.
Your work, that was done, to be done to be done to be done.

-Gwendolyn Brooks   

This week's Friday Friends are on a road to preserving herstory. Julia Wallace and Alexis Pauline Gumbs are embarking on the Mobile Homecoming Project, an essential and inspiring project for queer women of color of all ages. 

It's inspiring to know that these herstories aren't dying. This is a time when I sometimes wonder if the history of queer people of color vanishes as soon as it's created -- fears echoed by the other folks present at last weekend's Black Queer Society. When asked by co-founder Essex Lordes why a gathering like Black Queer Society is important, we all had our own words for the difficulty of finding other black queer folks in San Francisco, in spite of promises of a city of diversity and equality.

When the Mobile Homecoming Project touched down in the Bay Area last weekend, they stopped in to the Black Queer Society gathering. And I'm so glad they did. In their bright smiles I saw hope, that at least part of our journey to finding and supporting one another lies in our connections to other generations, and in our preserving of history. History, that is, in the form of herstory that is still alive and within our reach if we just open up and talk to one another.

So that's what we did. We shared delicious Afro-vegan food (plus decadent mac 'n cheese), talked about everything from music to gentrification to quirky black girls, and of course fed on learning about what the Mobile Homecoming Project has been setting out to accomplish.

Julia and Alexis are taking a trip in an eco-friendly RV, surviving from the kindness of others and connecting with our elders. They're calling Mobile Homecoming "an innovative and loving response to a deep craving for intergenerational connection" as they set out finding the stories of black women, trans men and gender queer visionaries in the generations before theirs. But I'd refer you to their website to read more, in their own insightful words, about why their journey is so important.

I can share from my experience why spending time with the women of Mobile Homecoming and their friends was so enlightening. It was the reminder that histories that are erased from mainstream circles cannot be erased from our memories. We hold the power to preserve our stories and draw our family trees as we know them. Folks like Julia and Alexis are spreading this idea throughout the country, and once we start sharing our stories, we can't be silenced. It's just as June Jordan said, in words that guide the Mobile Homecoming Project: "We are the ones we have been waiting for."