"I am a Black woman and a psychologist. When I run, I carry two inheritances at once. One is ancient: the memory of movement as ceremony, as prayer, as messenger work, as endurance that belongs to Africa and to Indigenous peoples across the world. The other is brutal: the American history that punished Black movement, that named our urge to flee captivity a mental disease, that turned running away into a crime the state would hunt down."
"Long before split times and finish line photos, people ran to connect land, spirit, and community. On the African continent, movement has always been more than transport. Think of messengers traveling by foot across the savanna and forest. Think of dance and drumming that braid body, breath, and belonging. In East Africa, endurance has cultural meaning, a craft taught by elders and terrain."
A Black woman and psychologist began running during the pandemic, seeking comfort on rural North Carolina trails. Running became a teacher of freedom beyond textbooks. Two inheritances coexist: an ancient lineage where movement functions as ceremony, prayer, messenger work, and endurance rooted in African and Indigenous practices; and a brutal American history that punished Black motion, pathologized flight from captivity, and criminalized escape. The body stores both memories, so running brings joy alongside vigilance. Embodied memory turns repetition into ritual and identity. Running becomes a site of ancestral continuity, personal safety concerns, and an experiential lesson in freedom and restraint.
Read at Psychology Today
Unable to calculate read time
Collection
[
|
...
]