We Speak Your Names

I just watched Oprah's Legends Ball. (It was last Monday but I had it tivo'd.) Oprah threw a spectacular event to honor African-American women who have paved the way for others. She spent a year planning the Legends Ball, an extravagant, glitzy, glamorous black-and-white gala. It was spectacular. So amazing. Not the fact that Oprah was the hostess, that the women got huge diamond earrings as parting gifts or that the food was so fancy. What made this event so special was the love. Those women knowing that they would be remembered forever. That improvised gospel singing by legend after legend.

For centuries, African American women have been remaking the world, giving testament to the power of hope, courage, and resilience. But it took the inspired generosity of Oprah Winfrey to honor fully the many gifts of sisterhood. For three amazing days—from May 13 to 15, 2005—a distinguished group of women was invited to celebrate the enduring achievements of 25 of their mentors and role models—and in the process pay tribute to the long, glorious tradition of African American accomplishment.


Excerpt: We Speak Your Names*
By Pearl Cleage
From Oprah Winfrey's Legends Weekend

Because we are free women,
born of free women,
who are born of free women,
back as far as time begins,
we celebrate your freedom.

Because we are wise women,
born of wise women,
who are born of wise women,
we celebrate your wisdom.

Because we are strong women,
born of strong women,
who are born of strong women,
we celebrate your strength.

Because we are magical women,
born of magical women,
who are born of magical women,
we celebrate your magic.

My sisters, we are gathered here to speak your
names.
We are here because we are your daughters
as surely as if you had conceived us, nurtured us,
carried us in your wombs, and then sent us out
into the world to make our mark
and see what we see, and be what we be, but better,
truer, deeper
because of the shining example of your own
incandescent lives.

We are here to speak your names
because we have enough sense to know
that we did not spring full blown from the
forehead of Zeus,
or arrive on the scene like Topsy, our sister once
removed, who somehow just growed.
We know that we are walking in footprints made
deep by the confident strides
of women who parted the air before them like the
forces of nature that you are.

We are here to speak your names
because you taught us that the search is always for
the truth
and that when people show us who they are, we
should believe them.

We are here because you taught us
that sisterspeak can continue to be our native
tongue,
no matter how many languages we learn as we
move about as citizens of the world
and of the ever-evolving universe.

We are here to speak your names
because of the way you made for us.
Because of the prayers you prayed for us.
We are the ones you conjured up, hoping we
would have strength enough,
and discipline enough, and talent enough, and
nerve enough
to step into the light when it turned in our
direction, and just smile awhile.

We are the ones you hoped would make you
proud
because all of our hard work
makes all of yours part of something better, truer,
deeper.
Something that lights the way ahead like a lamp
unto our feet,
as steady as the unforgettable beat of our collective
heart.

We speak your names.
We speak your names.