Source: April Martin / April Martin
They gathered in darkness. At around 5:00 am on a foggy, cool San Francisco morning, the women came to paint their bodies, and to participate in a grounding exercise before they began.
As the sun rose they took the BART and ventured to Market and Beale. In the 7 o’clock hour, the women stood in formation, brown bodies of all builds, adorned in head wraps and shirtless, their upper halves streaked in white, blue, pink, red, and orange. Pretty like make-up. Or fierce like war paint.
They held the street for more than two hours. The words on their faces, necklines, breasts, torsos and stomachs were writ large for, by, and about black women. Some read: “I do this 4 mothers;” or “I fight for my girls to love their bodies;” or “4 the murdered, missing, silenced, abused, exploited or unseen.”
?I am my sisters?…
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