“....coming into my own blackness has been such a journey. And it’s been such a trying journey. It’s been a difficult journey that the process of decolonizing your own mind from living in a society where white is the norm, where blackness is seen as deviant, where blackness is seen as inferior, the journey and the courage that one undergoes to reclaim their sense of identity – so me as an African American woman reclaiming my sense of identity that has been systemically and very intentionally in this country oppressed, that has been dismissed, that has been erased, is such a revolutionary act of courage. ”
Taz Morgan: I’m so delighted to be speaking with Manon Voice. She is a poet, hip hop emcee, spoken word artist, and social justice activist from Indianapolis. She’s also a friend to MHT. She joined us at our first annual retreat last October and basically performed for us one night and led us through some exercises to help us get reflective about love and community. We thought you’d be a great person to interview. We kind of want to continue the conversation around race. In December one of my colleagues Chelsea interviewed a psychoanalyst Dr. Lynne Jacobs. She writes a lot about whiteness in the therapy world. And we thought you, Manon, would have, I don’t know, just help us make this conversation interesting. To continue the dialogue. So yea, I guess we’ll start from there!
Manon Voice: Thank you for having me. I am very grateful to be a friend of MHT, the group there. I was very delighted to be among you all and begin a beautiful relationship – so very, very glad to now be reconnecting a couple months later. I had such a good experience with you all in the beautiful mountains of Idyllwild, California. I had some very transformative experiences there. Even as I was sharing with you all, there were things going on within me, that I’m even just unpacking in my own journey and in my own life. So yes, I’m very, very grateful for that experience with you that just began a beautiful relationship and friendship. So thank you for having me.
TM: Yea, thank you. So I guess I’m curious about how your work, or how you see poets contributing to changing narratives, changing conversations on race. We, MHT, is a predominantly white practice, white women. And you know, we’re trying to contend with that. I think it can feel, you know, I can feel nervous, like I don’t want to make a mistake. I’m thinking, how can we make the next best step in addressing privilege. We really value poetry at our practice. Just wondering how your work intersects with these ideas or these questions.
MV: So, I’ll sort of start with you had asked me about poetry. The poetic lineage, which I always like to pay homage to, is that of African American poets in this country and they start as far back as Phyllis Wheatly who was actually a slave.
TM: Did you say Phyllis? Phyllis Wheatly?
MV: Yes…and she actually published a book of poetry and then was taken to trial for it because they couldn’t believe that she could actually write as well as she did. But she eventually bought her way to freedom because she was so profound and her poetry was beautiful. So, we can talk about people like that. And also people like Paul Laurence Dunbar who has a famous poem We Wear the Mask and The Caged Bird - Maya Angelou borrows from that poem. He was living during the Reconstruction Era and talks about the realities of African Americans struggling through post-slavery society. And then we can go a little further up to the Harlem Renaissance, and we can talk about poets like Langston Hughes and James Weldon Johnson and they were expressing the realities of what it felt like for African Americans at that time to be living at a time when there was such intense racial upheaval, especially living in Harlem at the time, and there were the race riots that were going on in 1919. So they were talking about the brutalities of what African Americans were experiencing at that time. And what it was like to feel like a second-class citizen. We can go a little further up to poets like [Gwendolyn] Brooks - her work talked about the migration of 20 million African Americans from the south at that time; who traveled north and west and east to make better lives for themselves. Then we can go a little further up and talk about the Black Arts Movement, right alongside the Civil Rights Movement. These poets were Nikki Giovanni and Sonia Sanchez and Amiri Baraka and they were talking about that time of also racial unrest. That time where they were willing to take a different stand. They were willing to claim their own power. They were willing to celebrate blackness in this new kind of riveting way. And they were also activists. They spoke the language, but they also walked the walk. And that took them expressing themselves through the art was a vehicle of revolution. It was not separate. It was something that was very integral. And I look at my path as also being very, very similar to those poets who I consider my ancestors who I credit my journey and the work I’m doing now to the blueprint that they left. Audre Lorde, a beautiful black feminist queer writer, talks about how poetry is not a luxury - especially for African Americans, but particularly for African American women. And that’s who she was talking about. The use of language and how we reckon with what’s going on in the world through words, through art, is a powerful medium. It’s a powerful medium that helps us stay grounded with what we know to be true about who we are when we live in a world that wants to denigrate that, that wants to despise our existence. It is a way of staying sane, of looking in the mirror and claiming our own identity, claiming our own sense of blackness, our own sense of queerness, our own sense of womanhood. And then it is also a way to speak truth to power and to confront the systems and to confront the systemic problems that we are faced with. I do view my art as activism and that’s not separate. The ethos of my work...I always like to say that I consider myself a little bit of a poetic journalist, if I can say that. Really looking at the issues that we face, looking at the past, the present, and the future, and looking at the issues that we are being confronted with, especially when it comes to social justice issues. But also thinking about who we can be. So I want my work to always have some hope and to be holding out for hope about who we can be. This is where we are...we have to be honest with ourselves if we’re going to make changes. We have to be able to face what’s uncomfortable, what’s ugly. (Audio disrupted) One of my favorite writers, Toni Morrison, and I’m paraphrasing this genius of a woman, she basically says “This is no time to crouch in fear.” And then she says “We do language, and that’s how civilization heals. That’s how we keep moving forward.” And so I see my work as being in that kind of schema.
TM: There’s just a... I don’t know...there’s humility in what you speak of in paying homage to this lineage...this love for the people who came before you or your ancestors.
MV: Absolutely, yes.
TM: That just seems like an important element of your activism, or that idea of an artist being an activist – knowing where…how you got to where you are, where you come from. My introduction to you was through watching your video where you’re performing Dark Matter. Could you just talk a little more about that? You know, “Blackness is a Miracle” is a line that’s repeated. I’m so curious as to how you birthed that, how it came into being, what it means to you.
MV: Sure. Well, it’s definitely and unequivocally a celebration of blackness, an elevation of blackness. There’s a lot of, I think, probably mysticism that is also sort of threaded through there as I’m talking about how everything starts, right, the world as we know it, or the world as we comprehend it, how everything sort of began in darkness and the world was formed from that. So I’m sort of using that as this theme about everything comes from the dark womb, how everything comes from blackness, and how civilization as we know it began in Africa, right? What we call the mother country, the mother home, that’s where the cradle of civilization began - somewhere in Northern Africa. So we have started with blackness, we have come out of the darkness of the universe, being a dark people, and how we have, in this country particularly, when we talk about whiteness there is the contrast, this illusion that has been created to benefit one group of people over another. The premise of that was that darkness, dark skin was demonic, was of the devil, was bad, and that white people, just for having white skin, a white complexion, that they are superior. That white people are superior based on just that, which is just a huge and a grave deception. Living in this country as a black person of African descent, who, you know I think about - I think I talked a bit about this – my great grandmother being a sharecropper and being from Mississippi, and Mississippi was one of the states that was one of the worst record keeping states. In fact, there were people in my family who thought that their birthday was one day, and then maybe found out later. So, I’ve been cut off from a lot of my history. From my own personal experience, coming into my own blackness has been such a journey. And it’s been such a trying journey. It’s been a difficult journey that the process of decolonizing your own mind from living in a society where white is the norm, where blackness is seen as deviant, where blackness is seen as inferior, the journey and the courage that one undergoes to reclaim their sense of identity – so me as an African American woman reclaiming my sense of identity that has been systemically and very intentionally in this country oppressed, that has been dismissed, that has been erased, is such a revolutionary act of courage. And it’s a necessary and revolutionary act of courage that every day, when I see myself, when I look in the mirror, that I reclaim my own identity. That I reclaim my own beauty. That I reclaim my own lineage. That I reclaim my own heritage as a black person in this country. And that that blackness is beautiful, that that blackness is brilliant. What I do know about where we come from as African Americans is a history of genius, and it’s a history of exploits, and it’s a history of miracles, and it’s a history of people making contributions to history, people making contributions to civilization in ways that we are still studying and trying to figure out. So that poem really came out of that, that blackness is a miracle, to live in this country every day and to survive it as a black person is miraculous, I feel. And I don’t think that I’m alone in that sentiment. When you exist within a system where there is, not only just a threat of physical violence, but there’s the psychological warfare that’s going on everyday.
TM: Yeah, it’s psychic warfare too.
MV: Yeah, it’s been necessary to look at the physical violence and the physical brutality, it’s been so necessary to look at that, but what really cracks, I think, at the soul, even beyond the body, is the psychological warfare that is endured day to day to day to day, the microaggressions that are endured. You know, at this point in my life I have worked many many jobs. And I’ve worked for people who claim to be liberals and claim to be inclusive and culturally competent who had no idea of some of the distasteful language that they were using around people they deemed other than them, and the way that we survived that, and the way that we endured that, and the way that we sometimes feel like how much – the way we have to make daily decisions about what do we fight or what do we not.
TM: Right.
MV: Yeah, and so it’s like, what do I put my energy into fighting today because my coworker just said this, or my boss just said this, and even though it hurts, but I still have to keep my job, maybe I have children at home, I have bills due so I can’t quit…
TM: Right, or the taxing nature of being like “I’m becoming the representative of everyone that looks like me.”
MV: Yeah, and you know sometimes it can just be, aside from that, that people have not reckoned with their own sense of othering others, you know?
TM: Yeah.
MV: And so, you know, they don’t realize some of the harmful things that they’re saying, they don’t realize some of the harmful practices that they are carrying out that are really harmful to the spirits of people of color and of marginalized people. And I’ve existed within that. I can tell you I have two friends that don’t know each other - this is really interesting because they worked for the same organization and they were in the same role as the person who was responsible for diversity and inclusion, and these were two black women, and both of them left. And both of them when they told me why they left, they really had almost identical stories. Like how they were sort of used as puppets for this organization to appear that this organization was diverse and inclusive, but when they challenged some of the decisions, some of the policies that were going on within the organization, then the powers-that-be refused. They just wanted to kind of look diverse and look inclusive on the face, we wanna put you on the flyers, and we’re gonna have you at the events as the black face, but we really don’t want to do the root work, you know?
TM: Yeah, yeah.
MV: So, we’re coming up against, and the challenge that we have is the performative justice vs doing the actual root work.
TM: Right and I think that’s why at MHT, we’re trying to ask ourselves what that work - real work - would look like. That’s what we’re trying to ask ourselves internally at this point. I don’t know. I think some of what you were saying earlier about having the courage, or to kind of get out of these illusions, I mean some of what you were saying reminds me a little bit about the courage to start going to therapy - to kind of face things about yourself that feel scary or ugly or whatever. I’m trying to put words to, I don’t know, we’re just trying to figure out what kind of conversations do we want to be having, and how to walk the walk and not just think just in general. There’s this movement in the psychotherapy world to take stands on social issues – whether it’s therapists or an organization saying separating kids from their parents at the border has detrimental effects or whatever.
“I truly believe that love is the strongest force in the universe. And I know how love can sound like a cop-out when we are facing really threatening issues. Everyone wants to talk about love. But I don’t cheapen love. Real love challenges us to grow. It challenges us to transform, to change, and to live up to who we can be as human beings. And I believe in that.”
MV: And I think that we’ll have to talk about who, because you know we also have to reckon with access to mental healthcare.
TM: Yeah!
MV: Talk about who in this country is able to use mental health resources and the hierarchy of who we believe deserves it even. I think that’s a conversation that we have to have, and quite unfortunately we are still wrestling with the fact that there have been a lot of people that have benefited from the system within mental healthcare services, and you know, I’m not an expert, but I do have friends that work in these fields, and I’ve also gone to therapy for years, and I know that just like very profession deserves, it has its rank in as far as how long a person has gone to school, but there’s also this conversation about so many people being left out of receiving mental health care services because of poverty, and poverty is systemic. And it’s a vicious cycle because the people who are most traumatized in this country, and are the most marginalized in this country, often feel like they don’t have access to mental health. And that is really unfortunate because of the amount of trauma that one endures day to day to day. And even when they do go to see a mental health professional, they feel like “you can’t understand…”
TM: Yeah! They feel the compounded trauma of being othered in a space where theoretically you’d be understood.
MV: Yep. I have a friend who just had a general practice where she was just sort of seeing whoever would come. And then she changed and she decided to focus on – she said “you know what, I want to make my practice focused on the most marginalized – people of color and people who are queer,” because these are the people who are undergoing a lot of trauma that is very specific to their sense of identity in this country, and who also feel marginalized when they go into their normal therapist’s office who is probably white, who they feel like can’t relate to what they’re going through. And so I do feel it is important for therapists, for white mental health practitioners and clinicians, to start having these important conversations. I am glad to hear that MHT is taking steps towards understanding that. Like I really am. And I think the tools, I think that we have tools. I think it’s a personal and it’s a spiritual journey, and it’s also a practical journey – sort of undoing your own bias, your own racism.
TM: Yeah!
MV: There are implicit bias classes that at least give you an access point to know that this is some biases that you have. I know where I’m from, Indianapolis, we have an undoing racism course that I know it used to be free where it’s like anybody could come. Whether that’s the board of organizations or that was just a person who just walked off the street and was just sort of interested in taking that journey. And so...I was looking at the last interview that was done with the doctor…
TM: Yeah, Lynne Jacobs, yeah.
MV: And I saw the list of books and resources that were there at the end, so there’s a lot of knowledge out there, and there are a lot of ways for people to kind of get started on taking that journey.
TM: I know on Instagram there were a lot of people following Layla Saad who did the Me and White Supremacy workbook. And I think she now has a book. White followers were going through this course...it was about implicit bias. There is a real self-reflective thing that is being called for.
MV: Yeah.
TM: What you said about language...giving voice...really naming things also resonates with my idea of psychoanalysis or psychotherapy...is the idea of “speaking the unspeakable” and giving voice to things from the unconscious. Also, you were saying that your work is hopeful. There’s hope in it, too. To close our conversation a bit....How does hope...I don’t know...What do you envision for the future of this country? Gosh, that feels like such a BIG question!
MV: We’re in a deep time of reckoning. What we are seeing and what we are experiencing....we talk about polarization and this intense socio-political climate that we’re living in where folks feel so divided; feel more separate from each other. Honestly, I look at that because... As psychotherapists, you do the work of taking people through the journey of the subconscious, through the ego...of getting through that deeper sediment that blinds us all. And we have to get through all that ugliness sometimes. Right? And I’ve been in therapy…
TM: Right, you generally feel a lot worse before you start to feel better.
MV: Miserable!
TM: Yeah, miserable. (Laughs).
MV: It can take a long time. You feel miserable. You are confronting your shadow. In this country, we have not done a good job. We have wanted to jump these steps when we need to go back. And we have to really….I use this term “repentant.” [We have to repent.] I know it’s gonna have a religious connotation. But when I look at the root meaning of that word, it actually means “to turn.”
TM: Oh, wow.
MV: Yeah, making a turn. The only way to do that is to reckon with what’s been done. And we don’t want to do that as a country. Some of us do and some of us can’t help but live in that reality. The white majority in this country….the systemic oppression and the problems we have in this country stem from this idea of superiority, colonialism, and “white is right” and through that belief there were Native Americans that were decimated and displaced; there were Africans that were stolen and brought here for free labor and who built this country for hundreds of years and who are still second class citizens. We have to start from the very beginning and go back and say “Wow, this has been done. And we have been responsible.” If I’m living today, I feel like “Oh no…”
TM: Right, that idea of “it has nothing to do with me.”
MV: I think white people have to reckon with the fact that they have benefitted from a system. That reckoning has to happen. It can start small. It can start within an organization, within a church, within a neighborhood. It’s not gonna trickle down. Looking like our government now, it’s not gonna trickle down. Maybe it will make its way up. I think that sometimes….I know for sure what we are seeing is a result of what we have not been willing to deal with. There are so many of us asking: How did we get here? Why are we here? Why are things so divided? Why are things so intense? And doing that [the work of reckoning with our racist history] means doing the long, deep shadow work and that’s where it has to start -- taking that long, honest look at what’s been done and who has benefited and who has not benefited. And so, I was getting to the hope in that….
TM: I was thinking about that...Yeah, hope can be so loaded. I’m thinking of this interview that Stephen Colbert did with Ta-Nehisi Coates. Where Colbert asks Coates what he is hopeful about with his divide and polarization [in terms of race relations in the US]. And Coates said “I don’t have any hope.” I was thinking “Gosh, hope is such a loaded term. ...I love the language of repenting and turning. And I think your poetry...it’s like….there’s delight and joy and pleasure in it, too.
MV: Thank you for that reflection. That’s honestly so important for me, Taz. It’s important for me to also be a part of beauty-making.
TM: Yeah, it’s so moving and so beautiful. It’s aesthetically beautiful.
MV: Thank you. I truly believe that love is the strongest force in the universe. And I know how love can sound like a cop-out when we are facing really threatening issues. Everyone wants to talk about love. But I don’t cheapen love. Real love challenges us to grow. It challenges us to transform, to change, and to live up to who we can be as human beings. And I believe in that. The reason why I get up... If I get up in the morning...existing in this world, as tragic and disheartening as it can sometimes be...The reason why I walk out my door and say hello and good morning to someone that I don’t know is because deep inside, I want to believe in the best of humanity - that we all have something divine; that we all have something in us that is truly, truly good. If we can get through this shadow energy; if we can reckon with ourselves...if we can do that true repenting and that true reconciling, then we can create a better world. To call myself a social justice activist or advocate, but then not believe it could get better, I feel like it’s counterproductive. I’m working for a future that I want for generations...when you and I are no longer here...like in 7 generations...I want them to be so further along in this conversation. All of us can commit to that day by day...whether we want to call it hope or something else. The truth is that when we work for change, that’s exactly what we are doing - we are working to create something better. Even if I don’t see it in my lifetime, Taz… I want my grandchildren’s children, children, children... to be able to see; to live in a better world; to see a world where they are not threatened; where have a sense of belonging. If I want it for them, then I have to truly want that for every human being on this earth, no matter what color they are. I have to truly want that for every human being. In my deepest heart of hearts, I really do want that. And that’s where that hope, that beauty comes in. So, at the same time I’m speaking truth, it’s also undergirded with love and hope that we can really do better as human beings. Every day we are being called to do better and to make those small decisions. It can start in your neighborhood, with your friend, with your co-workers to have those conversations that allow us to heal these deep rifts that we have. I believe it’s possible.
TM: That feels like a good place to end, too. Again, that’s so moving. Affectively….ahhh...I can keep going. What you were saying about waking up...Like, Why wake up everyday and just be an adult?...it’s for the love of humanity. That was very moving. I wondered if you had any closing thoughts for now. Anything else on your mind?
MV: I live among beautiful people who are doing things everyday to move the notch forward. While it’s so easy to look at the news and be discouraged, you can also just look around and see….There’s a no-questions-asked food pantry in my community that just celebrated their 1-year anniversary of providing food to people without needing to ask all these questions about where you live, how much money you make, and if you deserve it. I have a friend who is doing that. And I have friends who are challenging policies that are harmful to the most marginalized. I have friends who are talking to city officials about responsible policing. I have friends who are running after school clubs to mentor young people. I have friends who are using their art to provoke dialogue around issues and who are using their art to beautify neighborhoods. My best friend is a brilliant teacher. I look around in my world and I do see the good. I think the good is contagious. The bad is too (Laughs). But the good is contagious. We can all do something. If we can look at the turning...I do see some important dialogue. We can argue about how late we are. But I do feel like we are having more dialogue about race relations in this country, at least from my purview and my experience. And about all kinds of other issues about who benefits and who doesn’t. I think that the turmoil is part of the process. I think if we stay focused on that...I think that focus has to be really intentional, not just complacency. All of us can do something. I just want to encourage others to be part of the change and to also look around at your community to those that are doing the work and trying to help. I see you doing this...or I see you started this non-profit organization where you’re helping the homeless...Can I join the board? Or can I help spread the word? Or help in some way? Seeing the good, valuing the good, and coming alongside the good!
TM: Those are helpful, small, actionable things. I love that idea of a turn - a turn to love, a love turn. Thank you so much for your time. And for your energy and your mind and your heart.
MV: I’m happy just to share. And grateful for the work that you guys are doing there. Let’s keep healing. Let’s keep at it!
Manon Voice is a native of Indianapolis, Indiana and is a poet and writer, spoken word artist, hip-hop emcee, educator, social justice activist and practicing contemplative. Manon Voice seeks to use her art and activism to create a communal space where dialogue, transformation, discovery and inspiration can occur.
Taz Morgan, MA, is an Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #99714, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. She has trained in Depth-oriented psychotherapy and works with adolescents, adults, and couples.