Arrival Untold: Home

I don’t have a physical place to call home.

No true loyalty attached to any state, any city. I’ve lived as a military brat for too long. My place of birth just as foreign to me as a far away land.

I don’t have a childhood home.

A place where I can peel back the layers of paint and see the past iterations of my self. A place where in a secret corner there is a loose Bratz doll shoe. Her remaining body long gone to the local Goodwill.

I don’t have a connection to a land, the dirt.

My family doesn’t have land that we toiled, cultivated or lived on for generations. Being black that was stripped away from us long ago. From the forced expatriation to the necessary migration.

I don’t have to have a home.

Not a physical one. My family has adapted beyond. I’ve adapted beyond. People are our home, people are our ground.

When we arrive to a new location lost we look towards people to help us navigate. When we stumble and need help we look towards people to provide support. When we feel out of place in a new environment we look towards people to provide us comfort.

My family, my friends, the kind hearted strangers.

My home is with my people.

See more from the Pilot Issue of Arrival Mag below:

Arrival: Untold (Physical)

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