{"id":17930,"date":"2025-02-26T08:46:00","date_gmt":"2025-02-26T13:46:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/black-history-month-read-susans-poem\/"},"modified":"2025-02-26T09:16:16","modified_gmt":"2025-02-26T14:16:16","slug":"rencontre-avec-susan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/rencontre-avec-susan\/","title":{"rendered":"Pleins feux sur l\u2019excellence noire : rencontre avec Susan"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Dans le cadre de notre s\u00e9rie sur le Mois de l’histoire des Noirs, nous avons le privil\u00e8ge de partager un po\u00e8me puissant de Susan, Agente d’approvisionnement \u00e0 LCO, qui refl\u00e8te son parcours et le lien profond qu’elle entretient avec ceux qui l’ont pr\u00e9c\u00e9d\u00e9e.\u00a0<\/h4>\n\n\n\n

\u00c0 travers ses mots, elle nous invite \u00e0 voir son parcours \u00e0 travers les yeux de ses anc\u00eatres – ceux dont les luttes, les sacrifices et la r\u00e9silience lui ont permis de grandir en \u00e9tant consciente et fi\u00e8re de ses racines. Son po\u00e8me est un hommage \u00e0 l’histoire, \u00e0 l’identit\u00e9 et \u00e0 l’h\u00e9ritage que nous portons tous en nous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susan a partag\u00e9 ces mots avec nous apr\u00e8s avoir lu son \u0153uvre lors d’un \u00e9v\u00e9nement du staff:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n

e suis si heureuse d’avoir pu partager mon histoire avec les yeux, les oreilles, les c\u0153urs et les esprits des personnes pr\u00e9sentes dans la salle. Je me suis sentie \u00e0 la fois honor\u00e9e et nerveuse. L’\u00e9crire \u00e9tait une chose, la transmettre en \u00e9tait une autre. Mes mains tremblaient et mon c\u0153ur battait la chamade, mais ce moment me d\u00e9passait. J’ai souri parce que je sentais que les gens \u00e9coutaient vraiment, qu’ils s’int\u00e9ressaient \u00e0 moi, qu’ils se connectaient. J’ai choisi un style d’\u00e9criture oral, parce que l’expression orale est synonyme de rythme, de profondeur, d’\u00e9motion et de connexion. Comme l’a dit Maya Angelou, \u00ab les gens peuvent oublier ce que vous dites, mais ils n’oublient jamais ce que vous leur faites ressentir \u00bb. Lorsque j’ai termin\u00e9 par \u00ab As\u00e9, As\u00e9, As\u00e9 \u00bb et que j’ai entendu les voix me r\u00e9pondre, ce moment a \u00e9t\u00e9 d\u00e9cisif ! Ce n’\u00e9tait pas seulement ma reconnaissance, c’\u00e9tait la n\u00f4tre.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Le mois de l’histoire des Noirs est une p\u00e9riode de comm\u00e9moration, mais aussi de reconnaissance, de c\u00e9l\u00e9bration et de poursuite. Il s’agit de voir le chemin parcouru et de reconna\u00eetre celui que nous pouvons encore parcourir ….. ensemble.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Je suis reconnaissante d’avoir eu l’occasion de partager ce moment. Je suis reconnaissante d’avoir pu le partager avec vous tous ! J’esp\u00e8re que cela nous rappellera \u00e0 tous de continuer \u00e0 \u00e9couter, \u00e0 apprendre et \u00e0 honorer les histoires qui nous fa\u00e7onnent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susan<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

L’\u0153uvre de Susan est seulement disponioble en anglais.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

\n\n\n\n

Before I begin, I pour libations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pour for the ones who came before me, whose footsteps paved the way.
I pour for the ones whose names were lost to time but whose spirits remain with us.
I pour for the warriors, the healers, the builders, the storytellers.
I pour for the mothers and fathers, the stolen and the free, the lost and the found.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pour for those who crossed oceans in chains.
I pour for those who resisted in quiet ways and loud.
I pour for those who could not see this moment but dreamed of it still.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n

African Ancestral Acknowledgment<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I was asked to do the African ancestral acknowledgment,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hadn\u2019t recognized my own entry\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An entry of the ancestors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An entry back through a door that once had no return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An entry into our ledger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Until a DNA test came along, I didn\u2019t even have this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No records.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No passed-down names.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No whispered stories of where we began.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only fragments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I see it now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And I stand here today because of those who came before me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I acknowledge them\u2014not just in memory, but in presence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not just in survival but in legacy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not just in struggle but in strength.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I speak for the names I do not know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I honour the faces history refused to show.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I acknowledge my family\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the builders, the protectors,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

the ones who carried more than just weight\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But, because they did\u2014here I stand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For many, family history is written in stories, traditions, and names passed down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For me?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It stops.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It stops at a bill of sale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A bill of sale for an unnamed, likely Negro, 22, Buck,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Strong. Illiterate. Farm hand.  Good inventory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That is where my lineage is recorded\u2014not in a family tree, but in a ledger.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But let me make something clear\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That paper? It does not define him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He took a name.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because of him, I am me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I do not carry his pain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I carry his power.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I do not carry his silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I carry his voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Unseen, The In-Between, The Unforgotten<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some walked unseen\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

too Black for one, not Black enough for the other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some swallowed their truth,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

tongues tied in survival, fists wrapped in silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Some wore faces that did not fit,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

passing between worlds that never claimed them,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

standing at doors that swung both ways,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

never fully home, never fully gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But even in the hush of history\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

they were here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even in the places where light dared not go\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

they endured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They folded sorrow into song.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They braided maps into the hair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They turned whispers into weapons<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and quiet steps into revolution.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They were the in-between,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but they were never in doubt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because their story did not disappear in the dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It lives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It moves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It breathes\u2014here, now, in me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

More Than Survival \u2013 We Are the Acknowledgment<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Too often, when we speak of our people, we only speak of struggle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But our history is not just what was done to us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is what we did despite it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We built with hands that were told to break.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We learned with minds they tried to keep voided.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We rose\u2014again and again\u2014where we were meant to fall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We did not just survive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We became.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are the architects of what comes next.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are the ink rewriting the narrative.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are not echoes of a broken past.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We are the unshaken future.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I wind this down<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My father fought a war on two fronts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A physical one overseas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And one when he returned home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And with those same hands\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

hands that fought for a country that did not wave a flag for him\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

he placed a Black baby doll in mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not from a department store.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not from a brand that suddenly found diversity,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but from the hands of our own.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Because when Black Barbies didn\u2019t exist,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

he made sure I saw myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He made sure I understood that who I am is enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That I am not erased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That I am not invisible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And when he reached out his hand to me\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t just five on the Black hand side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not just a dap\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dignity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Pride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, Let This Be My Entry<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Not in a ledger of ownership<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but in a record of resilience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They set the price,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but we marked our value.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They tried to close the book,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

but we cracked the spine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What they started in ink,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

we made a bloodline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Their entry\u2026..A receipt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This record\u2026.Mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As\u00e9, As\u00e9, As\u00e9<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n
\"\"
Le p\u00e8re de Susan, Jerry Brown<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\"\"
Les origines de Susan remontent \u00e0 l’Afrique de l’Ouest (Ghana, Nigeria et C\u00f4te d’Ivoire), \u00e0 l’Afrique centrale et australe (Angola, Congo et Zambie), ainsi qu’au Royaume-Uni, \u00e0 l’Irlande et \u00e0 certaines parties de l’Europe occidentale.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Dans le cadre de notre s\u00e9rie sur le Mois de l’histoire des Noirs, nous avons le privil\u00e8ge de partager un po\u00e8me puissant de Susan, Agente d’approvisionnement \u00e0 LCO, qui refl\u00e8te son parcours et le lien profond qu’elle entretient avec ceux qui l’ont pr\u00e9c\u00e9d\u00e9e.\u00a0 \u00c0 travers ses mots, elle nous invite \u00e0 voir son parcours \u00e0…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":12,"featured_media":17919,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[800,777],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17930","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-coin-des-employes","category-trimestriel"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17930","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/12"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17930"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17930\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/17919"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17930"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17930"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.och-lco.ca\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17930"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}