(EDITOR’S NOTE: Sonja Natasha Brown, a Grand Bahamian who is a lawyer and lives in Atlanta, re-posted this classic family photo originally posted by her aunt, Annette Poitier, a noted retired Bahamian educator. It was accompanied by a remarkable story that I was compelled to share as a Guest Commentary in BAHAMAS CHRONICLE).
GUEST COMMENTARY BY SONJA NATASHA BROWN
ATLANTA, Georgia, August 16 — My aunt, Annette Poitier (my Aunt Ann), posted this picture today. It’s a photograph of my grandmother, my Uncle Eddie (Ed Bethel), Aunt Ann, and my mother, Valencia Brown, the baby in the front.
I was never blessed to meet my grandmother because she went to be with the Lord at the young age of 45. She never knew any of her grandchildren, and by year’s end, all of her 7 surviving children, and 12 of her 28 grandchildren will have lived to be 45 years of age. It’s a miracle that is not lost on me, as I celebrate my golden jubilee year. When asked why I am so open with sharing my age, I simply answer, “How can I not celebrate every year, no matter the age? I would not be honoring the life that my grandmother lived, and rue life that she was not able to live!”
I never knew my grandmother, but I know that her strength lives within me. The strength that she passed on to her four daughters, who in turn passed it on to my sisters, cousins, and me. We are mothers, wives, grandmothers, former principals, executive assistants, work in banks, stay at home moms, nurses, lawyers, radio personalities, hair stylists, doctors, pharmacists, actresses, business owners, paralegals, work in customer service and marketing. We celebrated great achievements, and suffered tragic losses. But, through it all, I believe they we endured, survived, and thrived, because of the strength that we summon, and call on from our grandmother.
As I reflect on all that has happened over the last few weeks — from celebrating my 50th birthday, to witnessing historic selections, appointments, and elections of so many extraordinary Black women — I honor the first women in my life, who taught me what strength, the power of love, and the power of family look like! I am because of them. And, I am nothing without them.
I learned the power of compassion, and passion to love and help others from these phenomenal women, who I know have received this spirit from my grandmother.
I share a story with you about my grandmother, as it was shared with me. It speaks of her strength, power, compassion, and love for other women:
“Late one night, in the late 1950s, a mother was home alone with her five children, as her husband worked an overnight shift at his job. Around 11 PM that night, she was awakened by a knock on her door, and a voice screaming, “Help me! Help me! My husband has a knife and he’s going to kill me!”
The mother opened her window and asked the woman what was going on. The woman, looking dazed, scared, and disheveled, told the mother that she was trying to get away from her husband, and that her life depended upon her getting away. The mother told the woman, a complete stranger, to go the back of her house, and hide in the crawl space underneath her home. Moments later, as she checked on her five sleeping children, the mother heard a loud male’s voice coming down the dark street screaming, “Where are you? Come here! When I find you I’m going to kill you!”
The mother, mustering up all of her courage, went back to the same window again, and after opening it (and seeing a knife in the man’s hand), she told him to be quiet, and stop his shouting because he was going to wake up her children. He asked the mother if she had seen his wife, and when she said no, he said I thought I saw her come through this yard. The mother told him that she hadn’t seen anyone, and she didn’t know what or who he was talking about. He left, and after a few minutes when she was convinced that he was gone, the mother had one of her children sneak outside, search light in hand, go down into the crawl space and give the woman a blanket and pillow. The woman stayed there the entire night, and when morning came, she knocked on the mother’s door, thanked this mother, the stranger who helped to saved her life.
I take the spirit of that mother who helped to save the life of a stranger late that night over 60 years ago. The spirit of that mother, who while protecting her five children late that night in the 1950s, helped to save the life of a stranger. It is my sincere hope that the spirit of that woman, my grandmother, and although I never met or knew her, was passed onto me. A spirit of one who is brave, bold, and brazen enough to vow to stop domestic violence, and help to save the life of someone else.”
Each one of these women tagged here, are my strength, my loves….my family!
