My spiritual roots were first planted and nurtured in the Black church. My grandfather was a Baptist preacher who built the (literal) church building brick by brick alongside my dad who was a youngster then.
Going to (be with the) church on Sundays as a young girl found me fascinated with women’s ’Sunday Hats’ or ‘Church Crowns’ as some call them. I remember how big and how colorful some were. Some were asymmetrical, some elegant & luxurious (complete with feathers!). Some were all three. As a little girl in awe, I felt like every hat made a statement—told a story. In many ways, they did tell a story. Little did I know the spiritual connection between those hats and the health of Black women would be uncovered for me.
My little eyes observed that the church mothers who wore hats walked in such a way that allowed them to carry the weight of their big ‘church crowns’ to keep them from sliding and ultimately falling off. I can only imagine when they removed them after a long day at church and set them aside, their bodies felt lighter. Like they could breathe.
There are many times here lately that I wish I could take the weight and heaviness of my burdens off my head and shoulders like I would a ‘church crown’. I must say—I thought I learned to carry the weight of my burdens well before I remembered that I wasn’t strong enough to carry them. I wasn’t meant to carry them. Trying to balance them all to keep things from falling apart was wearing me out. I made that choice over and over again. Rest assured, It’s a choice.
My ancestry and my heritage originated in West Africa. I’m proud of my ancestry and heritage. I’m taking some time (in my old age) to get to know a place, people, and heritage where I’ve got deep roots in the soil but never lived there or visited. March is Women’s History Month and therefore it’s the perfect time to look back (Sankofa) and let my imagination influence my gratitude for my roots—my connection to my matriarchal ancestors. Ancestors that carried so much on their heads, shoulders, and in their bodies. I can picture their daily routine including the art of carrying water simultaneously while carrying one baby on their backs while nursing another in the hottest of temperatures—while barefoot on the dustiest of roads…perhaps while singing and laughing with others around her. Maybe. Maybe they were praying for relief and release.
Author Watetu wa Gichuki says “Black women are used to juggling multiple burdens on their backs, heads, front, and shoulders both physically and metaphorically; thus, the concept of the water carriers was born. This concept was birthed through my childhood growing up in Kenya; women carrying water and other loads on their heads is a familiar sight” Yes, yes it is.
Researchers have found that people can carry loads up to 20% of their body weight and African women can carry head-supported loads of up to 60% of their body weight.
In many ways, I’m trying to envision my ancestors carrying water as a spiritual act because water has many spiritual meanings, including life, cleansing, renewal, and healing.
Women carrying water is still a literal practice where my ancestors originated but here in America “women carry water” figuratively. That means it looks much different than a bucket of water balanced on her head. It looks like stress, stress-related illnesses, trauma, depression, isolation, loneliness, and carrying grudges. They also carry compassion, nurturing and wisdom, uncertainty and pain, joy and confidence.
Editors, Binga Sengar and A. Mia Elise Adjoumani printed this, “The Black female body as a retrospective site of ecology holds an intimate connection to the nurturing kinship of water to the Earth. Black women are the cornerstone of existence in relation to humanity. For hundreds of years, Black women in the United States of America were enslaved, raped, humiliated, dehumanized, and breastfed the babies of white slave masters. Becoming the pillars of the community, the innate intellect, intuitive knowledge, and wisdom of Black women has saved countless lives, liberated souls, and filled spaces with joy.” Yes and amen!
“Wade in the Water” is an old Negro spiritual that supports this truth. The song was a code message for Runaway Slaves when they were running, to wade through the murky waters to save themselves from being recaptured. It was a coded message to tell escaping slaves to get off the trail and into the water to make sure the dogs slave catchers used couldn’t sniff out their trail. Sigh. Consider this biblical metaphor for carrying water and then allowing the Living Water to scoop you up to free you, unburden you, to protect you. To strengthen you and save you.
For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had ”(John 5:2-4, KJV) Perhaps, among other possibilities, this is a reference of healing and release for a water carrier body and soul.
Howard Thurman, American minister, theologian, and professor at Howard University and Boston University, wrote that this New Testament account was the source of the ‘troubled waters’ lyric in “Wade in the Water”: “No one knew precisely when the waters [of Beth-zatha] would be troubled; one could only wait and trust that at the miracle moment there would be someone to ease his tortured body beneath the healing waters. This is in essence the story of the man beside the pool in the fifth chapter of the Gospel according to St. John. [In the song] …the ‘troubled waters’ meant the ups and downs, the vicissitudes of life. Within the context of the ‘troubled’ waters of life, there are healing waters, because God is in the midst of the turmoil… This is the message of the spiritual. Do not shrink from moving confidently out into choppy seas. Wade in the water, because God is troubling the water.” Wikipedia
Water holds life. Water holds healing. So we go back to the water and heal. We lay down the buckets of burdens we as women carry and wade. We must wade to be cleansed, soothed, and renewed, to get our wisdom and peace back and our energy back. We let go and wade in the life-giving, life-sustaining spiritual connection with the True and Living God. Go ahead and put your water pot down and wade in the water. Just wade…
Kathy R. Williamson Bruce
Artwork Courtesy of Chase Williamson Art
The Looking Glass 