honoring

My parents were born in Kenema and Pangoma, Sierra Leone. They were raised in the same village of northern Lebanon called Rahbe. My mom told me that my grandmother kept their doors open and unlocked with an extra pot of something delicious to eat on the stove in case neighbors came by. My grandfather was known as a man of great wisdom. So much so that people in the village would seek counsel from him with problems they had. He even helped families through disputes they had.

I inherited hospitality and the desire for peace-making from my family. I am grateful for them, the ways they held onto joy at every turn because they knew at the end of it all our memories, relationships and love are what we have from this earth. My parents remind me to be the salt ملح and noor نور (light) in this world, as we are spiritually called. This also means admitting when I’m wrong and to learning to be accountable. It also means to committing to loving myself through the eyes of the Creator, so that I can love others.

I chose the name “salt and noor” to honor part of this legacy and calling.

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acknowledgment

I can do this work because of ancestors, elders, youth, mentors, friends, wisdom-keepers and so many of those living as, dedicated to and organizing for indigenous, Black, trans, disabled, immigrant, refugee, economic, environmental, racial and social justice; for global & collective liberation;

because of those working toward ending carceral & colonial systems while building emancipatory ones.

I consider myself a life-long learner and never an expert of this work. To me this is never-ending heart work. Culture-shifting work. Personal transformation. Communal alchemy. I learn from each and every practice & process I have been a part of and believe we are all a part of knowledge production.