Ten Thousand Cowries for Claudia
TEN THOUSAND COWRIES FOR CLAUDIA
Sometimes, despite all evidence to the contrary, we have to take charge of our own lives and shape our own destinies. We all been there before, and that’s where I am right now.
I started designing in my teens. I was lucky enough to be a teen when we were all “Young, Gifted and Black”. Almost forty years after the incarceration of Marcus Garvey, my generation discovered Africa. We wore dashikis and Afros; we danced to the rhythm of congas, shakereys as well as the James Brown Band. We read J.A. Rogers, WEB Dubois and Chinua Achebe, and we wore cowries as a symbol of our pride in being reconnected to our historical roots.
We understood the importance of a good education. We demanded to know our own history; we went to college in unprecedented numbers. We inspired others to know themselves as well. We formed valuable alliances and enriched our communities by taking care of each other.
In the 1970’s we continued to learn about our African heritage, and we made great strides in “freeing our minds”. We wore cowries in our hair, styled in cornrows, braids and dread locks. Not until our communities were flooded with crack cocaine and assault rifles did we return to fear and shame, straightened hair and an all Western couture. We wanted gold, not seashells, and diamonds soaked in the blood of our cousins dangled from our ear lobes. That was the eighties, the nineties and the question is, is this the legacy for our children and grand children? Will they have to rediscover Africa as a place of something more than disease, starvation, corruption and interminable war?
In the face of some much evidence to the contrary, I say NO! Our children and grand children will learn of the threads that link the tapestries of Dahomey to the slave quilts of South Carolina. They will learn the same way my generation did, through fashion, art and music. We will create a cultural medium they will see daily; we will immerse them in pride by our own example.
When I started designing, I was told that I could not major in design, “because there was no such thing as a Black fashion designer.” Thank God, we have not returned to that state of dysfunction. Since I graduated from high school many long years ago, I have been active in the politics of our community, raised a child and worked as a medical assistant for over two decades. Now I have a daughter of whom I am very proud. I also have a host of ailments, including coronary artery disease, but due to a recent denial of SSI, I have very little income.
Now is the time for me to become a designer and a Fine Artist. To be one of those who create works that we can wear, display proudly in our homes and see in galleries and museums. I started this journey before I had the heart attack, but then I was also working. I had two part time jobs, a website, and was a part time college student. I have lost both jobs and will soon change to a less expensive website provider. In the face of all evidence, to the contrary I refuse to abandon my educational aspirations.
“Ten Thousand Cowries for Claudia” will pay for my MFA degree. Five thousand pair of cowry earrings over five years will help pay tuition, fees, and living expenses. This is a realistic goal; I done the math and lived the history to know it will work, if we work together. You can see the earrings and other jewelry I create at http://sistershebanaturally.com. I also have a listing at http://sistersheba.etsy.com.
Sometimes, despite all evidence to the contrary, we have to take charge of our own lives and shape our own destinies. We all been there before, and that’s where I am right now.
I started designing in my teens. I was lucky enough to be a teen when we were all “Young, Gifted and Black”. Almost forty years after the incarceration of Marcus Garvey, my generation discovered Africa. We wore dashikis and Afros; we danced to the rhythm of congas, shakereys as well as the James Brown Band. We read J.A. Rogers, WEB Dubois and Chinua Achebe, and we wore cowries as a symbol of our pride in being reconnected to our historical roots.
We understood the importance of a good education. We demanded to know our own history; we went to college in unprecedented numbers. We inspired others to know themselves as well. We formed valuable alliances and enriched our communities by taking care of each other.
In the 1970’s we continued to learn about our African heritage, and we made great strides in “freeing our minds”. We wore cowries in our hair, styled in cornrows, braids and dread locks. Not until our communities were flooded with crack cocaine and assault rifles did we return to fear and shame, straightened hair and an all Western couture. We wanted gold, not seashells, and diamonds soaked in the blood of our cousins dangled from our ear lobes. That was the eighties, the nineties and the question is, is this the legacy for our children and grand children? Will they have to rediscover Africa as a place of something more than disease, starvation, corruption and interminable war?
In the face of some much evidence to the contrary, I say NO! Our children and grand children will learn of the threads that link the tapestries of Dahomey to the slave quilts of South Carolina. They will learn the same way my generation did, through fashion, art and music. We will create a cultural medium they will see daily; we will immerse them in pride by our own example.
When I started designing, I was told that I could not major in design, “because there was no such thing as a Black fashion designer.” Thank God, we have not returned to that state of dysfunction. Since I graduated from high school many long years ago, I have been active in the politics of our community, raised a child and worked as a medical assistant for over two decades. Now I have a daughter of whom I am very proud. I also have a host of ailments, including coronary artery disease, but due to a recent denial of SSI, I have very little income.
Now is the time for me to become a designer and a Fine Artist. To be one of those who create works that we can wear, display proudly in our homes and see in galleries and museums. I started this journey before I had the heart attack, but then I was also working. I had two part time jobs, a website, and was a part time college student. I have lost both jobs and will soon change to a less expensive website provider. In the face of all evidence, to the contrary I refuse to abandon my educational aspirations.
“Ten Thousand Cowries for Claudia” will pay for my MFA degree. Five thousand pair of cowry earrings over five years will help pay tuition, fees, and living expenses. This is a realistic goal; I done the math and lived the history to know it will work, if we work together. You can see the earrings and other jewelry I create at http://sistershebanaturally.com. I also have a listing at http://sistersheba.etsy.com.
More Cowries for Sheba!!!
Cleo