Chapter 35
Beyond Empire
“Hey, Yola!” I call to Yolanda’s back.
She turns to face me.
“What did you think of the Alignment?”
“That was beyond description,” she acknowledges.
The prolonged silence is awkward.
“Yola…I owe you an apology. Hearing you speak tonight made me realize what you've been going through since coming here. Because of what I did.”
Not sure where I'm going with this.
“I never thought about the historic racial trauma of millions of people abducted and held against their will, and how that would scrape you to your core. It was an inexcusable brutality.”
“True,” Yolanda says, nodding. “No disagreement from me. But it's not all about history.”
Another cluster of stragglers from the Alignment fans out beyond us, into the surrounding darkness.
“Here's what galls,” Yolanda says, taking a deep breath. “It's the paternalism involved in taking choice away from me based on the premise that you know what's best for me. That's not something from the past. That's an abuse of both trust and privilege happening right here, right now. Between the two of us.”
Our eyes lock.
“I see that now.” As I breathe, my chest tightens with feelings of shame, self-loathing and a desire to run. The feelings concentrate in my chest almost unbearably, then subside as I breathe out slow and steady.
When I'm sure I've got a grip on my emotions, I continue.
“The abuse of privilege was beyond being a micro-aggression. That sense of superiority underpins the white missionary attitude of believing we whites know what's best for everyone else. My actions involved a complete devaluing of your agency. I was dressing up racism as good intentions.”
I stop, looking for words to express what I've been going through since coming to the Village.
“It's like I was living in a cartoon, disconnected from my own context back in Empire. Disconnected from the effects of my actions. But here, more and more, I'm living in an actual, dimensional reality in communion with others. In this interdependent context of community, I am making mistakes, and perceiving their effects. While holding myself accountable for the impact of my behavior on others. My own racialization is being revealed to me. And I am choosing to unlearn those habit patterns. This unlearning is my living amends which I offer to you.”
“I see,” Yolanda says as our eyes meet again.
“Until just yesterday, I thought it impossible that I could ever recover from being racialized. But today I see a way forward. And I resolve to move in that direction. I apologize to you with my entire being.”
“Very well,” Yolanda nods in response. “I accept your apology, and I will be watching for the amends to unfold. It can't always be on the Black women in your life to bear the brunt and illuminate your confusion. You've got to begin to catch yourself in the act.”
“Agreed.”
“So tell me,” Yolanda tilts her head. “What happened yesterday that altered your perspective on healing?”
“Wooosh,” I say, laughing hesitantly. “Let's just say I was treated to a macro magical guided intervention by one of the most relentlessly incisive creatures who pass interstitially amongst us—none other than the Head Librarian!”
“Blanca macro-dosed you?!” Yola starts laughing so hard I can't keep from joining in.
“Seriously, though, it did something to me,” I manage to squeak.
“Yeah?” Yola chokes out.
“I experienced wholeness. Non separation. The alienated individual dissolved. I felt fully human and part of everything. Part of something beyond just me. I'm still feeling it.”
“Sounds like you're gonna be feeling it for a while.”
Which sets us off again, laughing raucously.
“Ladies please, it is quite late and we've all had a tremendous evening.” Olympia wafts by us, the last of the Villagers still out and about. “Hush now,” we hear her say softly, her voice trailing in the wake of her fluttering silken gown. Tempered, we watch as she disappears into the shadows.
“Which reminds me to ask, are you two…?” I'm trying to look solemn but the inkling of a smile begins playing with my face.
“Never say never,” Yola responds, looking mysterious.
We stand there peering at Lynnzi’s sheep, who seem to float dreamily in the distant dark.
“Though, I'm not sure I'll be staying here long enough for all that. The abandoned kids of LA tug on me. Their suffering compels me to return. Which reminds me,” she says turning to face me, “we need to talk about dormant Portals. How do you know where they're located? Might one exist in LA?”
“No one really knows much at this point. Clyde’s ability just suddenly revealed itself. But, yes, I do suspect one exists there. Have you ever heard of Ron Finley and his thriving permaculture oasis in the midst of LA’s dead zone?”
“Nope.”
“Well, he might be sitting on one, right there in East LA. Keeping it alive. For all we know, there could be a sister Village lingering just the other side of his front door.”
“In that case, you and Clyde are coming for a visit. Sooner than later.”
“Definitely. I've been here a while…getting kinda antsy.”
“You've never been a homebody,” Yolanda observes.
“True. Now that we have the key to coming and going through the Portal, I can stretch my legs a bit. Maybe even be of use. Meanwhile, we need to develop our capabilities a bit more.”
“And return to Empire when ready.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Return on our own terms.”