Transformation Hurts!
My life has
been defined by turbulent change. The most familiar feeling to me is a strong panic.
Sometimes I could just be sitting still but then be hit by an indescribable
emptiness in my chest and no matter how deeply I breathe I can’t seem to fill
that space. I feel like I can even hear a bit of a whistle, like my chest had
been a solid thing but now is full of holes. I was born
on a cold Tuesday in November in Odessa, Ukraine. My mother was the only black woman
on her maternity ward, and most likely in the whole hospital. She was very
young and alone, a shaky 23 years old trying to balance this terrifying thing
called motherhood with fast paced college classes taught in Russian. My birth
itself-my arrival in this world- was a disruption. By the age
of 4 I spoke a blend of Russian, French and a tiny bit of Kinyarwanda. My
mother and I had spent nearly a year in Switzerland while escaping the 1994
genocide, and it was around this time that I began to develop a stutter. It
became a st…