Living Memories

by Victoria Pratt Davis

Ms. Erma J. Sias Bien-Aimè stands in front of the at SWF’s [Re]Construction House.

This year, Sweet Water Foundation has very creatively and effectively illustrated the meaning of its visionary practice through the physical manifestation of Regenerative Neighborhood Development (RND). Their practice engages in the important work of rehabilitating, repurposing abandoned spaces and places, and restoring vibrancy and meaning to the South Side of Chicago, an area historically dismissed by city planners and capital investors.

During the four weeks in February set aside to reflect upon African American History, Sweet Water held a Friday afternoon series which they called Sankofa Living Memories. What a significant event to take place during Black History Month, dedicating time to gather, talk, and actively listen to the community folks and elders among us. It is a harsh reality that planners of our cities are rarely concerned with the cherished memories and human faces of the communities which they systematically devalue, disrupt, and displace. Choosing the West African Adinkra word and symbol of Sankofa was an insightful way to honor the wisdom of our African Ancestors, while celebrating the life works and experiences of our resident elders. The discussion held via Google Meet, made it possible for everyone to listen and speak of special connections to the Englewood and Washington Park communities, of the strength of their ties to family and extended family, and insights into their survival during difficult times in Chicago’s turbulent history. They shared stories of their work, their art, and decisions to participate in Sweet Water’s Vision for The Commonwealth. 

Sankofa is an Akan-Twi word, a verb, whose action implies movement forward and backward in time and space. The Sankofa symbol is that of an eagle-like bird, holding a seed in its beak, its head turned in the opposite direction of a flight forward. Literally, the verb and symbol communicate the importance of taking time to stop moving, go back and retrieve what is at risk of being forgotten. And from the rapt attention given to those who spoke, the human force of this aging community is not being forgotten. Go to the Sweet Water Foundation website to enjoy the entire series and appreciate the diversity of presenters and their living memories. In this piece, we’ll lift up one of the vibrant elders and long-time residents who spoke, Ms. Erma J. Sias Bien-Aimè. Her name alone says a great deal about the diversity of cultural backgrounds of people within the African American Diaspora connected to Chicago’s South Side. This area was, in fact, one of the many “landing stations” for thousands of people arriving in what has become known as the Great Migration, which took place over several decades. The harsh realities of segregation and hope for better wages and lives drove people to risk long, dangerous journeys and make major life changes. Separation between the races was strictly regulated and enforced through racial codes and state legislation. Many codes were simply invented, underscoring the uncertainty of living in the south. People's lives, safety, and well-being were constantly threatened by the existence of these codes.

“Sankofa is an Akan-Twi word, a verb, whose action implies movement forward and backward in time and space. The Sankofa symbol is that of an eagle-like bird, holding a seed in its beak, its head turned in the opposite direction of a flight forward. Literally, the verb and symbol communicate the importance of taking time to stop moving, go back and retrieve what is at risk of being forgotten. ”

Many did find improvements and a greater sense of freedom upon arrival, but they also were confronted with different forms of racial conflicts and competition over employment and housing. The violence of Jim Crow activities can be added to the hostilities and deaths which people experienced in their new home. White migrants were able to find places to live closer to the city, while African Americans were pushed further into the more rural Southside of the city. People of every background, age, and walk of life, reinvented their lives within this historic Chicago community. It is through taking such difficult risks that we create memories that endure. They become valuable offerings or templates to be retrieved during future re-imagining and problem-solving opportunities.  It is through taking such difficult risks that we create memories that endure. These become valuable offerings or templates for future re-imagining and creative problem-solving. Our brains serve as deep treasure chests of surprising gifts from The Ancestors!

Within the challenge of Sankofa, we face the important task of choosing among multiple memories. We still carry the closeted, silent memories caused by merciless, senseless acts of violence, pain, and collective struggle. We may have even unconsciously inflicted pain upon our own Beloved Community as we continue to compete, struggle to find place and space to live, and provide for loved ones. When we survey our neighborhoods, we may choose to remember, the destruction and blight, the old wounds, the visible abandonment and decay of surviving structures, or the blood-stained streets. But Sankofa would re-mind us that, woven into the tapestry of this portrait are also the powerfully resilient, resourceful, and creative peoples, extended kin who not only survived, but also created beautiful memories of lives well-lived. They possess strengths and wisdom we can know little about unless we intentionally take time to hear their stories. Whatever else was going on, they managed to feed their families, outlive the conflicts, and remain connected. There are those who may choose to forget the more painful images of the portrait and keep flying away... any kind of way. But the wisdom of Sankofa consciousness provides this cautionary word: Do not abandon everything. Go back and fetch those memories that help us stay connected to the strengths acquired during the journey and to the tremendous courage necessary for survival, growth, and continuity as we move on.

“Memories help us deeply appreciate the journey of overcoming unbelievable odds, so that a better way can be uncovered for ourselves and the generations that follow. It is through listening to the elders, taking from them the survival seeds of their discriminating wisdom that we honor their life and acquire new understanding. ”

— Victoria Pratt Davis

Memories help us deeply appreciate the journey of overcoming unbelievable odds, so that a better way can be uncovered for ourselves and the generations that follow. It is through listening to the elders, taking from them the survival seeds of their discriminating wisdom that we honor their life and acquire new understanding. We dare to challenge ourselves and make   new connections and relationships with one another. And we learn to create even more sustainable visions for our collective future within the communities where we find ourselves because ‘Where there is no vision the people perish.’

Ms. Erma, was born in Issaquena, County along the Mississippi Delta in the early 1930’s and started her schooling in a one-room schoolhouse. She then went to an elementary school where her mom was a teacher and her dad, the Principal. Changes in circumstances allowed her to be raised by a grandmother. As Ms. Erma spoke of her life, she never focused upon the difficulty of conditions or scarcity of resources she may have experienced. She chose, instead to speak of the resources she could find, the ability to search, to grow, to contribute in some kind of way, always discovering what was needed. Her inclusive manner of storytelling welcomed our imaginations to gather ‘at the table’ with her. We followed along as she uncovered opportunities to learn wherever she could, to excel, and to contribute to the community. There was never a hint of boastfulness, but, instead, of hope and encouragement as she confronted the challenges before her. She always communicated a sense that new possibilities were just around the corner. Ms. Erma remained in Mississippi until she completed her schooling and graduated from college with a degree in Biology. The Great Migration was still attracting millions of people when she finally left Mississippi in the mid-1950’s. She became a Biology teacher, Community activist, and, now, a valued elder in the community. As we exchanged stories, she seemed to offer a confident nod, affirming that this generation possesses the same strength, grit, and vision to keep climbing while bringing others along. Through her memories from another time, we were all prompted to re-examine our approach to challenges today. Her enthusiasm about Sweet Water expressed how The Commonwealth is a beautiful demonstration of enduring vision to which is added the creativity and technology available to us now. Where there was once blighted spaces, new vision and energy thrives.

While symbolically sitting at the feet of our dear sister, auntie, grandma, and elder among us, we did, indeed, connect across time, through the memories of an honored community resource. We felt home within the circle of a neighborhood “griot,” the traditional African teller of history worth remembering. Our Google Meet discussion slowly became an enormous story circle experienced in cyberspace, through which Ms. Erma spoke and modeled a life excellently and purposefully lived. The expression she liked to use was that, “we must lift one another as we climb.” The terrors in life will change with the times, but the work in front of everyone is always to see beyond, in order to get beyond. Lift others even as you yourself are busy climbing. Education, family, and commitment to her community were the resources she called upon as, even now, she continues to climb.

In our imaginary kitchen, Ms. Erma conjured up memories of particular foods, recipes, and vegetables that helped listeners connect with memories of our own kin folk, kitchens, or grandmas who shared wisdom with food. We re-collected the aromas, tastes, and sounds that we carry and that nourish us over the course of our lives. We re-call times when neighborhood children were welcomed to share a pot of greens, a piece of peach cobbler fresh from the oven, or carry some sweet potatoes home to the family.  Her memories connected us to special memories of our own, underscoring how deeply connected we all are throughout the challenges we face. We may not do exactly the same things, but we cherish the spirit of community connectedness that translate into other meaningful actions.

“During the Sankofa Living Memories discussions, precious memories were rekindled and serve now as a sacred adhesive that keeps people and communities connected, generations inspired to progress, lifting as they climb. ”

— Victoria Pratt Davis

Education and learning new things continue to be important to Ms. Erma, who is well into her senior-most years of life. She is a walking historian and recalls detailed stories about the buildings and people long gone. As she spoke, the vibrant world she knew was excavated out from under the abandonment, appearances of empty lots, or decay seen by the casual observer of today. Her memories were very real, clear recollections of a place where she uncovered people and linkages that fed her own vision of possibility and value. And gradually, as we listened and shared, we found ourselves engaged in a delightful dance of memory, a call and response activity, retrieving forgotten fragments of our memory from our own preoccupied lives. Sankofa understands that, in the haste of survival and moving on to the next whatever, memories easily get pushed aside, covered over by our own exhaustive mental dust and debris. But during the Sankofa Living Memories discussions, precious memories were rekindled and serve now as a sacred adhesive that keeps people and communities connected, generations inspired to progress, lifting as they climb. Our conversations solidified existing relationships and introduced The Commonwealth to new curious, ‘hungry-for-hope-beyond-Covid’ internet visitors. Beautiful!  Sankofa wisdom re-minds us that this is how the Ancestors speak through us, by picking up valuable seeds we may drop, then spreading them around the soil that awaits them. 

We’ll stop here with Ms. Erma’s story. You can seek her out through this series or talk with her yourself. But she did reveal how she came to know about Sweet Water… by word of mouth, from someone who told her that she just needed to stop by. In her words, she says she “could not believe her eyes” at what she saw. The beautiful green spaces, the delicious rows of vegetables, the people of all ages who were actively tending to them. She quickly sought out more information and soon found Emmanuel Pratt. Not long after that, she got busy planting her seeds and hopes for this regenerating community, in the rich Southside Commonwealth soils. 

Living Vision Today

So, we return to where we began, the Sweet Water Vision to become a physical manifestation of Regenerative Neighborhood Development… repurposing abandoned spaces and places, restoring vibrancy and meaning (I would say, the meaning of vibrance) to a special neighborhood on Chicago’s South Side. The regenerated spaces and places literally shout, “We, the people of The Commonwealth, are not abandoned. We are in progressive movement toward regeneration, becoming steadily reconnected and re-sourced by the earth and re-energized through community labor. We are becoming re-stored and re-storied for the next generation. In a very real sense, everything about the Commonwealth has been growing a new life through the purposeful recycling of relationships, using found materials for tools, buildings, furniture, a beautiful arena-like barn for conferences and festivals, and so much more. There is actually a designated, renovated building on the grounds for the expressed purpose of re-imagining the possible - the “Think-Do House.” And it all began with a reconnected community of people who shared the vision, neighbors working alongside with Sweet Water folk, inside the garden, growing more than fresh food and vegetables for the people. The growth of all kinds has never stopped even throughout the vicious sting of another deadly pandemic. (The first was just over one hundred years ago). The earth can never cease to produce delicious food, the people have continued to work, masked and social- distanced, and they will continue to do so long after this virus or the next hurdle has been crossed. “Through many dangers, toils, and snares we have already come!” Challenges just have a way of coming… regardless. But the vision of creating regenerated, healthy neighborhoods has solidly taken root here inside The Commonwealth community and new memories will be passed on. The seeds of Sankofa, gifts from the Ancestors, will continue to be retrieved, planted, harvested, and treasured. As Sweet Water likes to say very simply, “There GROWS the Neighborhood.”

(Note: If interested in reading more about the impact of “The Great Migration” find a copy of, Warmth of Other Suns, by Isabel Wilkerson. It’s a great read!)