It's Time (Part II): The Secret Society of the Literary Militia

I often thank God that I didn’t grow up in fear like many children nowadays do. My mother and father had my brother and me late in life so I think they were already in grandparent mode. They didn’t really spank us as a means of discipline either. We occasionally got plucked or even worse guilt tripped. My mother never had to say a word. She would simply ignore us. Her silence stung worse than any belt ever could. Life was easy because my parents made sure we were allowed to be children. We weren’t exposed to adult things. That was a priceless gift they gave us. But in every great story there is a plot twist. Now, before I share this information with you I must forewarn you that everything you hear today is classified information and should not leave this page.

My parents used to drive a silver Ford Taurus. On the outside it seemingly showed their patriotism by supporting an American automotive company but on the inside, it was the dungeon of doom. Whenever we got into the car and the doors closed behind us, my loving parents, who had the temperament of grandparents, transformed into The Literary Militia. And my loving, sweet, mother? Commander-in-Chief! Whenever we rode in the car which, let’s be honest, was the majority of the time, my mother would not put the car into drive until my brother or I led us in prayer. After praying we had to read a passage of scripture, sing a song, read a poem, a story or a play, and read a Black History fact all before we reached our destination. Now you might be wondering where did we get this information that we were commanded to recite? Well, Commander-in-Chief Mommy, compiled notebooks, Literary Militia Codebooks, overflowing with laminated pages of sheet music, poetry, short stories, plays, famous speeches, scripture references, and Black History Facts. Everyday, more than once a day, on the way to church, to violin lessons, to school or the grocery store and don’t forget longer road trips, whenever we were in the car we had to read, recite, and memorize. From the age of 5 until I left for college at the age of 18, not one day went by where I wasn’t reading, reciting, memorizing or singing something from the Literary Militia Codebook. From the dungeon of doom behind the doors of the silver Ford Taurus birthed my passion for creating and telling stories. I grew to love the stories I was commanded to read and found myself in an Alice in Wonderland euphoria guided by prose. 

I want to write. 

I want to liberate words from the page. 

Bring the story to life. 

I am Langston.

Zora. 

Baldwin. 

I am Cynthia. 

Left with a gift to tell stories. 

Left with a gift to bring stories to life.

A gift I will never take for granted. 

The gift I hope to pass down to my children. 

The legacy I want to leave.