“I am still learning – how to take joy in all the people I am, how to use all my selves in the service of what I believe, how to accept when I fail and rejoice when I succeed.”

I learned so much from listening to people. And all I knew was, the only thing I had was honesty and openness.

I am deliberate and afraid of nothing.

Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before.

We have to consciously study how to be tender with each other until it becomes a habit because what was native has been stolen from us, the love of Black women for each other.

I believe one of the hardest things you can do is conquer your fears, but if you have a goal, then it’s your job to open up and let it be real no matter how scary it seems.

I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.

Tomorrow belongs to those of us who conceive of it as belonging to everyone; who lend the best of ourselves to it, and with joy.

If they cannot love and resist at the same time, they probably will not survive.

If they cannot love and resist at the same time, they probably will not survive.

When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.

Construct templates for possible futures, and focus our rage for change upon our enemies rather than upon each other.

How hard it is to sleep in the middle of life.

It’s a struggle but that’s why we exist, so that another generation of Lesbians of color will not have to invent themselves, or their history, all over again.

It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.

To that piece in each of us that refuses to be silent.

The oppression of women knows no ethnic nor racial boundaries, true, but that does not mean it is identical within those boundaries.