An Interview with a Matriarch
A 96-year old reflects on her life in the rural South and shares her hope for the next generation.
She has caramel skin and navy-blue eyes and at 96 years old she has fire. She’s thin but strong and has a lot to say. She talks nonstop. I think she’s lonely. I go back the next day for a formal interview. She talks only about what she wants to, so I just listen:
She was raped at 16 and gave birth to a healthy son. Complications to her young body, however, meant she would not be able to conceive again. She put her faith in God and let Him decide if it was to be. It wasn’t.
Her grandfather was lynched in town in 1925. She doesn’t want to talk about that. It’s in the past. However, she laments how little has changed since.
She talks to God. A lot. She prays for the Black man to be united. For children to get their vaccinations and for them to be educated. “We need strong, healthy, unified Black men,” she says.
She dearly loved her father. He taught her manners and respect and cleanliness. He left the family when she was 12. She is proud to be his daughter.
The town’s Black cemetery was being desecrated. She stopped it.
She never curses.
Her home is on family land. She detests the name of her street. It doesn’t honor their legacy.
She owns property. She might sell if the price is right. It never will be.
The town needs new leadership, not the same families who have run it for decades.
She adopted her newborn, great-grandson when she was 73. She had never before given a baby a bath. Her mother looked after the first one.
She used to work at Disney. She’s proud of that job.
She has beautiful hands. Long, thin, fingers and natural nails. She believes health and longevity lie in the care of hands and feet. She may have a point.
She combs Vaseline into her hair to make it grow. It’s working.
She can’t cook.
She’s been married twice. Divorced one husband, widowed by the other.
She voted for Trump because he’s a business man.
Her water has been turned off. She’s not worried. God always has a ram in the bush.
She believes standing in front of a mirror and speaking affirmations builds confidence.
She wants a pool at every high school. Kids need exercise and a place to swim. She also wants to build a community center.
She repeats, “I see your heart, not your color.”
She doesn’t trust many people. “Nobody truly loves you except your mama and Jesus.”
She’s in the hospital now. She’s all right. God always has a ram in the bush.
