This past Saturday, was Super Saturday.
It a day set aside for Pratt’s graduate students to present their year long projects to the Pratt Community. It’s a fun time, a time to gather and meet. A time for discussions about community, preservation, gentrification. A time for futuristic thinking. Planning. Mapping. GISing.
A time to find out about what’s being built in the city and what’s being taken down. Who’s doing what and how are they doing it and where is the money coming from. Who got a scholarship and how was it possible and how can I sign up for next time.
It’s a time to be questioned by peers and professors about how you foresee your project coming into fruition.
This year It happened virtually.
Someone had the control to mute voices. Someone had the control to mute comments. Any type of talking meant timing and/ or texting.
This time, the Pratt Community spoke about Community trying to maintain what they knew as community.
I was planning on picking up a card from Family Dollar for my sister and this is what I saw, All Mother Day’s cards were sold out the Saturday before Mother’s Day
As tradition has it, every first Monday of each month, my school would gather for assembly. We will lift our voices and sing the anthem.
This Monday we were muted. We listed to a muffled Dr. Roland Carter version.
We listened to our Principal tell us the virtue of the month, Resilience. Resilience.
And, just like that, Assembly was over.
When the question was asked, anyone have anything to say, the students unmuted their microphones and said hi. Cries of children saying hi as if they wouldn’t have an opportunity to be heard. Calling teacher names and saying they missed them.
This was the first assembly I cried. The first assembly I didn’t have to speak to any children nor lead them in a rendition of the Black National Anthem.
Another voice came. Assembly is over, please hang up.
No one moved. Everyone stayed. No one spoke. just stayed in the call. Until the call was dropped.