This didn’t start out as a project on love, at least not a project about finding love/being in love/making love with someone other than yourself. It was about black women. About healing the hurts that have been done and get redone to black women during our existence in this country. By racistsexistclassistheterosexist society. By the church, which is supposed to be a place for healing but has far too often also been racistsexistclassistheterosexist. By people who looked like us and who were supposed to love us, who said that they did in fact love us but were so scar(r)ed themselves that they didn’t know how.
But the further I went into the mission of healing the sisters, the more I was drawn into the pain of the brothers. Because she can’t love herself for the same reason that he can’t love himself and he can’t love her and she can only offer him a broken…wounded…battered love. Because the greatest commandment is love: love God love your neighbor love yourself. And if she/he can’t love her/him, how can she/he love him/her and how can they love God?
And so this is a project about love. And about faith. And about the folk. About faithfully and joyously loving the folk in a world bent on making it impossible.