(CC) Tim Lumley via Flickr
When I think about what community means to me, I return to the definition set forth by the organization Alternate ROOTS. ROOTS defines community as communities of place, tradition, and spirit. The root of this definition for me is community of place, because it is in these specific geographical areas that our traditions are created. It is in these places that one encounters the spirit of the community, that intangible thing that makes them unique. I recently moved away from my home town of Knoxville, Tennessee to New York City for graduate school, and living in NYC showed me just how much my hometown has shaped my Affrilachian* identity and ways of being. Moving away made me appreciate my community of place. What follows is a haiku poem about my community of place, Knoxville, Tennessee that is nestled at the foot of the mighty Appalachian Mountains.
Peaks that stretch sky high
Great Appalachian Mountains
Affrilachian strength
Oh Sunday dinners
Food that nourishes us all
Sustains body, soul
We made one fabric
With my little bit and yours
Sustains everyone
Music from the folk
Sustains spirit in the hard times
Sing our melody
We created ways
When they told us we had none
Spirit moves through us
Affrilachian strength
Our story won’t be silenced
Like those peaks, we rise
*Affrilachia is a term coined by Frank X Walker to denote Appalachians of African descent and their culture and history that often times gets silenced due to the dominance of the white Appalachian narrative.
