Member-only story
Exile
Reflections of a black woman learning to build community.
I was doing laundry around 4 AM on a weekday morning. Typically I am much more organized — separating lights, dark, and white and towels from linens. This time I was rushing because my son needed to wear a specific shirt for school that day. So I took his white undershirts out of the washing machine and threw them in the dryer to wash the next load. I did not sort anything. I took a heaping pile of clothes and his shirt and washed the load on a short cycle. I hoped it would be washed and dried before he was scheduled to catch his bus to school. Fortunately, the clothes dried right before we left to catch the bus. As I took his shirt out of the dryer, I noticed my shirt was mixed in with his laundry. It was a green shirt now speckled with bleach stains.
I let out a long sigh and grabbed his shirt in a hurry. When I came back inside I took another look at the shirt. The new green and bleached t-shirt is a shirt I purchased from my best friend with her artwork on it. I didn’t throw it out. The way the bleach spattered on the shirt I tilted my head to the right and looked at it again. This accidental creation is much like how many of my friendships began. They’ve taught me true friendship’s complex and fragile nature. Understanding friendship and community is a journey, not a single destination. I am a student of this cause that continues to teach me.