A special poem presented to the Indianapolis Recorder:
And so we Record….
One hundred and twenty years’ worth of records unbroken and safely kept in between the spaces on our pages,
This isn’t just news
It ain’t just paper,
This is historical advancement
People of color gathering together to collectively enhance the empty air between stars, banners, spangles and
US.
We have voices
…Cries that turn murmurs without a soapbox to stand
…Exclamations that mirror periods without these writing hands to communicate our excitement,
…Our days that bleed into nights of children missing, lost, killed, fathers in need of appeals, mother searching for help, communities, depending on themselves,
We have voices … that need to not just be heard,
But to be read
Stories that beckon to be told to eyes blinking as pages turn
Teachings and scribes,
Pains that cripple us
And drives that push us,
It is a necessity that we be immortal in the publishing world
And so we Record…..
One hundred and twenty times three hundred and sixty-five,
We are consciously alive here,
Operating weekly, African dancing on the cutting room floor,
Purposeful in discussions,
Recording in hallways that lead to editors’ offices,
Interviewing from West 38th Street to the Obelisk in Washington, D.C.
This is not a lightweight print of Free Press,
Or something to protect your hair from the rain,
You won’t find us underneath the litterbox,
This is Indianapolis and beyond
120 years,
Thousands of stories stretching like arms yawning to the heavens for a listener
We Record,
Because if we did not, how in God’s name would the people know we are even here
We record,
Fearlessly
In sections and classifieds,
Front pages and back sides,
We Record
We are Recorders
This IS
The Indianapolis Recorder, taking journalism from the 1800s through the millennium and outside the orbits of Eternity,
This
Is Black immortalization
This is freedom of type
Free to write,
To empower, to recite
To inspire, and recount
To Remember
Receive,
Relive,
And ultimately
To Record
To be
Recorders
Indianapolis Recorders.
Black Lives Matter in physics, emotions, in theory and in print.
The revolution might not be televised,
But 120 years later,
It’s a safe bet that it might be paper sent.
