A few weeks ago, I was babysitting my 3-year-old niece. This was the first time she was spending the night with me in my own space. She asked me to go to the bathroom with her and I happily obliged. I love that she trusts me and I’m always happy to support her, even in the slightest endeavors. While handling her business, she shared that she was scared, and I asked her “what are you scared of?” She told me that she was scared of monsters. I looked her in the eyes and told her monsters don’t exist and more importantly “you’re safe with me and there’s no monsters in this house.” I said it with so much conviction that she didn’t question it or push it any further.

This pic was taken when my niece was still a baby. I loved how symbolic our handshake was. I meant it then, and I mean it now.

I remember as a child, being afraid of the dark, monsters and having these horrid dreams. My brothers would tease me, innocently, yet earnestly, often saying “that man” or would imitate the horrid “tales from the crypt” skeleton laugh. In our home, we had a long dark hallway that I feared. All the liveliness happened in the living room which was in the back of the house. The hallway led to the front of our apartment. It was where our rooms were, the bathroom, and closets. Though they couldn’t have known, what they teased me with really did manifest itself into something years later. A man did invade our home, for years and I was tormented by him. Thankfully I survived. The other things that I was afraid of, darkness, isolation, loneliness, I had reason to be. I was 4 years old, in foster care and away from the woman and man I loved. I was away from my siblings. In order to see my mother, I had to wait once a month and travel far away to reach her. I couldn’t hear my dad’s voice when I wanted to and was eventually kept from my dad for years. My brothers, whom I had known and was used to waking up to were in different homes and I couldn’t see them when I wanted to. There was little safety and no conviction, anywhere.

This interaction with my niece made me think about generational curses and how, even as an adult, I was afraid of being alone, afraid of the dark, and how these fears manifested in my daily life. At one point, I couldn’t enter my home without doing a full home inspection before I felt completely safe in it. I couldn’t be in a space alone without feeling like someone or something would pounce on me. Being separated from people I love due to the “the belly of the beast” is an agonizing feeling. As a child and into my teens, I was so angry for so long. I couldn’t look people in the eyes who were being sincere or serious. I was insecure about my body for years. I was always ready to fight and defend myself and I still am. The difference is now; I don’t have to.

I remember hearing Jay Z’s beach chair, off his 2006 Kingdom Come album.

“See I got demons in my past so I got daughters on the way
If the prophecy's correct that the child shall have to pay
For the sins of her father so I barter my tomorrows
Against my yesterdays and hope that she'll be okay
And when I'm no longer here to shade her face from the glare
I give up my share of Carol's daughter and a new beach chair”

At 14, I wondered what me and my siblings were paying for.

A lot of the “sins” of my parents have affected me and my siblings’ lives. We were/are plagued with depression, incarceration, PTSD, poverty, etc.

We must break these cycles though. We can no longer pay for their past because we can’t afford it. Our peace can’t afford it. Our mental health can’t afford it. Our joy can’t afford it. Our sanity can’t afford it. How I got over… Prayer. And crying. And writing. And friends. And family. And self-reflection. And being honest with myself first and others. Evaluating what we went through and vowing that I wouldn’t put my peoples through it any longer.

No more isolating family members due to their sexual orientation or their appearance.

No more protecting the family pedophiles.

No more calling little girls “fast” or shaming them for their developing bodies.

No more missed opportunities due to not having money.

No more ignoring signs of depression or suicide.

No more making fun of PTSD or fears.

No more shaming our dark skin babies and kin while exalting the lighter skinned ones.

No more going to jail and leaving our babies and families exposed and unprotected.

No more domestic violence.

Not in this house. A few months ago, my niece revealed one of the sources of her fears. She was watching YouTube and a witch appeared on the screen. She immediately became afraid. I soothed her than and I will continue to sooth her fears. That is the only thing I want to be the source of her fears.

If I ever raise my own children, it won’t be in our house. And I can say that because God thrives within me and around me. I can say that because I’ve taken some lessons from Jesus. I can say that because I am attuned with my ancestors and those who got us over. I can say that because I mean that shit. I was able to speak with so much conviction to my niece because I truly believe and will do whatever in my power to ensure that these generational curses won’t affect her. I truly believe that I have divine intervention by my side. My whole life is a case for divine intervention. I can say not in this house because I feel protected, I was able to create a safe space out of all the chaos. I was lifted out of self-doubt and fear and hurt and sorrow and anger. My journey wasn’t easy and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone and no one should have to go through that. So again, I say not in this house. Because God lives here. Peace lives here. Love lives here. Joy lives here. Acceptance lives here. I live here and I am finally able to embody all of that. When you work that hard for that, you want to protect that and share it with others.

I implore you to make it so that it won’t happen in your house, your space, your presence, your mind, your circle, your squad, nowhere.

Not in this house.