They Knew How to Love: A Sacred Reflection on Marginalization, Memory, and What We Still Must Learn
It breaks my heart to realize this, but the people who were pushed to the margins-indigenous, Black, Brown, displace, silenced-were often the ones who carried the deepest capacity for love, care, and connection. And somehow, that terrified the world.
They knew how to care for the Earth. How to hold community through grief. How to protect each other when systems abandon them. They didn’t just survive. They created spaces of tenderness, wisdom, and strength that the dominant world tried to destroy. They were robbed. Of land. Of language. Of safety. Of voice. And yet they continued to sing. To raise children. To fight back. To make room for beauty in a world that treated them like it didn’t belong to them.
And it’s not just that they survived-it’s the way they loved through it all that leaves me in awe. The songs. The languages passed in whispers. The communal meals. The ceremonies. The deep-rooted knowing of how to live in relationship with land, spirit, and one another. That’s not weakness. That’s a strength this world barely deserves.
It should’ve been cherished. Protected. Taught in every classroom, honored in every policy. Instead, it was hidden, mocked, erased. But what if we stopped pretending that “progress” means forgetting what was sacred?
Imagine a world where indigenous knowledge was the foundation of our relationship with the Earth. Where mutual aid, not competition, shaped our communities. Where care work- often carried by Black, Brown, and immigrant women-was seen as holy, not disposable.
Imagine what children would learn if their teachers were elders. culture keepers, healers-not just textbook authorities. Imagine what healing might feel like if we let the ones who carry ancestral wisdom lead the way. We never needed to conquer to grow. We needed to listen. And it’s not too late. The truth is still here. The people are still here. The wisdom is still here. And I want to be part of the generation that says: we choose to return to it- and listen better this time.
