February 2026: In An Atmosphere of Emergency, What Will We Create?

Gracious Day & Black Imagination Month!

I hope this reaches you in good health and with hope. Since my last message, the world has gotten considerably heavier. I sense a higher level of uncertainty with every surge of headlines and have been in need of encouragement concerning the health and wellbeing of us all. ICE's lethal force — through illegal kidnapping, murder, detention, and deportation — has escalated to the point of history repeating itself with the enshrinement of fascism.  Whether you’re a U.S. citizen, a green card holder, a student on a visa or undocumented, we have legal rights -- rights actively being reinforced with Know Your Rights workshops, but these laws are not being treated as fact. State-sanctioned violence feels relentless, and I hear the echo of protestors who shout, "Who keeps us safe?" and the ground swelling response of "We do!"

So how do we get ourselves together in an atmosphere of emergency?

Ancestor Amelia Brown, former Minister of Emergency Arts in USDAC and founder of Emergency Arts, left us words about creativity in the atmosphere of emergency—whether chronic stresses or acute shocks. She wrote: "Experiencing the impacts of inequitable education, housing, and healthcare are all examples of chronic stressors. When another human being is murdered when driving, walking, sleeping, or doing other daily activities, we experience this as an acute shock. Acute shocks become or intersect with chronic stressors when people continue to experience the stress of oppression, violence, and loss of life because of racism. Racism is a human-caused, chronic, systemic intersectional emergency with acute shocks. Racism has become a public health emergency."

In October 2020, she wrote of her home in Minneapolis:

"We learn from Minneapolis that artists are on the frontlines of community recovery, creating space and methods to increase public engagement, while helping community members process trauma and build resilience. [Leaders] who seek to support community recovery in intersectional emergencies must face multiple layers of trauma."

This remains true today, though for a longer list of reasons. It's why it was so special to participate in the Public Theatre's People Filibuster this past Saturday! If you want to take a closer look at 7:25:54 mark at this YouTube link (yes, nearly 7 1/2 hours in), I took to the podium to share a poem by 2025/2026 City of Minneapolis Poet Laureate Junauda Petrus, "Ritual on How To Love Minneapolis Again." It could never be stated enough: Poems are good for our health.

Shanaé standing at a podium with the sign "A protest for humanity - The people's Filibuster" Holding the floor for Justice." She is wearing a 3M aura mask and bundled warmly for the weather. An ASL interpreter is standing within frame. Photo taken by event attendee.

This month, we're gathering to pause and play before asking the next pressing question!

We're celebrating the 30th anniversary of Waiting to Exhale, the ICONIC adaptation of Terry McMillan's novel, directed by Forest Whitaker— a film that went on to inspire the friendship film genre itself. Four women in their mid-30s, navigating love and life together. Whether you read the book but never saw the film, or watched the film but never read the book, engaging this story can be a sort of rite of passage.

(Note: This is a screening for mature audiences—the film is rated R.)

From 1995 to 2026, the conversation has evolved and is evolving, but what of the story remains the same? We're creating space for Black Joy because joy is resistance. We're healing our relationships with ourselves and one another because that healing is how we survive and thrive -- even with tears.

Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman co-write in Big Friendship: "Big Friendship can hold you when you're worried that everything else is falling apart. It can be a space of validation when you feel alone in the world. It can provide the relief of feeling seen without having to explain yourself in too many words. And it offers the security of knowing that you won't have to go through life's inevitable challenges alone."

This gathering is about (re)building that kind of friendship—the kind that becomes "a real-deal insurance policy against the hurricanes of life." We're co-creating community solutions to stress, and we're calling all Sisters with a connection to Cambridge and the greater Boston area to join us this Sunday for the film screening — or in the near future to join us in the endeavor of re-inforcing what we mean by our Sister to Sister methodology — shoulder to shoulder as we navigate systems seeking the highest form of care and healing justice..

We're lucky to be joined by Keyona Aviles of Inspired Release this upcoming Sunday.

As I call on Ancestor Amelia Brown to anchor my own understanding of what it means to create community in an atmosphere of emergency, I sing along with adrienne marie brown as she sings, "Ancestors Come into the Room". I'm wishing you meaningful celebration of Our Century+ of Black History this month.

Before I go, I want to plug a really cool endeavor from a friend, Nicole. As an original co-curator, I'm excited to be signed up for this month's iteration of ARD's 28 Days of Black History. If you're looking to learn more of our history, check it out.

Hopefully, I'll see you at the screening. If not, please drop a line and let's create another way to keep the conversation going on how we create new possibilities for our sisters and kin.

In solidarity,

Shanaé