Resilience

“The definition of re·sil·ience:

the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness;

the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape”

When I was 29 I got a phone call that my dad was dying. 

Just 3 1/2 years after I had lost my mom. 

I sat in the dark on my hardwood kitchen floor in disbelief 

Ain’t no way 

Ain’t no way this is happening to me, 

orphaned before I could even make something of myself 

Before I had even figured where I was going and who I wanted to be 

Before I had the experience of sitting down with a glass of wine 

asking “what was life like when you were 23”

Before wedding bells and baby carriages 

Before I could make them proud with my own life successes and stability 

just as soon as it started in that moment it seemed as if it was all already over 

But luckily for me, and unluckily for defeat, 

I knew a little something about getting back up again…

I knew a little something about a woman’s face, 

right at that moment when she decides that enough is enough 

That having rosy cheeks should only apply to Mary Kay and that she would gladly smile 

in her mugshot before allowing anyone walking this earth to ever treat her that way 

I knew a little something about deciding that your body belongs to you, 

a little something about erasing the hand prints of the broken and wounded, of people 

who thought they could take things from you that were only yours … 

looking yourself in the mirror and reclaiming yourself and your story 

through gritted teeth and deciding that TODAY abuse has run its course 

I knew a little something about losing everything, about doing it all alone, 

a little something about calling out for help and no one being around to pick up the phone, 

or better yet when they do they do so with deaf ears and shallow hearts, 

picking apart everything that you say. 

All ego and no love, I knew a little something about having to learn to buck up.

And so, in that moment I did. 

With tears streaming down my face, 

one step at a time like I had done over and over again in this life,

I stood up 

I looked at my sister sitting near me, and with our eyes we spoke entire soliloquies 

And with no words only frequencies, 

I simply pushed play on Tasha Cobbs 

In sorrow, and in surrender I threw my head back, cried out, let the tears fall from my face, 

and ushered my dad to other side with grace 

You see, In that moment I didn’t know what tomorrow looked like

Couldn’t tell you what the future would hold 

And I couldn’t see any light at the end of the rainbow 

But I did know, that resilience wasn’t born in the good times 

It wasn’t forged In the beauty of cheers of a finish line 

It was born in second quarters

In those moments where you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to breathe again 

When your back was against the wall and the tears wouldn’t stop 

When it was so blurry that you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to see again 

When the fire was filling your lungs and your legs were giving out from underneath you

and for a split second you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to compete again 

(And I’m not sure if you’re followin 

but I’m not talkin bout runnin) 

I brought this poem today 

And with everything in me was just hoping to get out of my own way 

To shed the shame and the dismay to talk about something real 

About the breakthrough that happens when instead of fleeing you learn to sit in your heat

and understand what it means to feel. 

Resilience isn’t what you see on top, it's what lies beneath, 

and I’m talking to somebody in this room who knows what that really means. 

To get up again, to rise again, who knows what it feels like to be dirtied 

from years of smoke and fire to dust yourself off and learn to shine again 

To stand after years of defeat to succeed again, like a phoenix from the ashes, 

to open your wings and learn to fly again 

I’m here today to remind you how. 

To remind you who you were before life tried to beat you down 

To remind you that your time has always been right, now. 

There will be moments in this life where you’ll have to pick a fight with the darkness 

And in the spirit of Ice Cube chapter 1 verse 23 have the courage to get up and ask it

Tadow, how you like me now?! 

You see healing IS my fight song, 

Life can try to take your spirit 

It can try and rob you of your dignity 

It can strive to leave you hopeless, helpless, sitting in sorrow and defeat 

Trauma can come and try and rob you of your promise 

of everything that you were meant to be 

But the secret is that we don’t have to let it 

Bane told Batman that he’d only merely adopted the dark 

But that he was forged in it, molded by it 

He’d gotten so familiar with his darkness, that at some point, 

I’m pretty sure the darkness was afraid of him 

And for the rest of the movie he would never let you forget it. 

It’s in that spirit that I sit when I think about my own moments 

Jabbing and jarring with broken dreams 

Bobbing and weaving with heartbreak and heartache 

I remember what it took to get to now 

The times where I simply had to accept that I was down 

The fights where maybe life did its big one and I had to awaken again from getting knocked out 

I remember the abuse

The violence 

The inner screams using a pillow to try and keep silent  

I remember the abandonment and despair 

The tragedy that I witnessed that was so bad 

I had to get validation to know if it even was really there

I carry with me all of the scars that people can’t see 

And I know that some of you listening are in here right now thinking 

“omg she’s exactly like me”

And it’s for you who I write this fight song 

For the next time that pain tries to rear its ugliness 

The next time that trauma peaks up from the descent in a ploy to make you dance with it 

I want you to remember how you got here 

How you walked through fire, over beds of nails, and across oceans 

How with soft hands you held space for yourself and your hard parts 

How due to shortages of supermen and women 

you became your own hero and learned to save yourself 

Knowing true healing is not for the faint of heart 

Turning emotional intelligence and compassion into an art 

I want you to remember that in a world that is constantly trying to harden your heart 

You still somehow stay gentle enough for love 

How even when you have every reason to stop believing, 

you never let the darkness rob you of riding the rollercoaster of life

With the wind blowing through your hair, a giant smile, and with your hands up, 

leaning just gently to the right 

If healing is a lifestyle then you can never really lose 

Like riding a bike, tears will always be a reminder 

that you’ll always know how to win the fight 

Because luckily for you, and unluckily for defeat, 

you know a little something about getting up again 

You know something about shining light despite the cold winters and long nights

Reminding darkness that we have a certain level of expertise 

when it comes to overcoming this flight, that being a survivor is a part of the birthright 

And in surrender with no words only frequencies, 

Maybe next time we’ll simply push play on DMX 

I find when it comes to rhymes that he had some of the most brilliant soliloquies 

My favorite to sing to the dark being:

We right here
We’re not goin’ anywhere
We right here
This is ours and we don’t share
We right here
Bring your crew ‘cause we don’t care
We right here

Because sometimes like Bane you have to remind it and yourself 

that this ain’t your first time spinning the block 

And if the hard times want it with you they might really have to learn how to rock 

Because it was in my own second quarter that I started to catch my stride 

That I learned how to breathe in the struggle 

That after falling I learned how to thrive 

That when the fire filled my lungs 

and my legs felt like they’re going to give out from under me I learned 

how to stay above the tides, I learned how to catch my second wind 

(And I’m not sure if you’re followin 

but I’m not talkin bout runnin) 

If you’ve forgotten, like a phoenix from the ashes, 

I hope you open up your wings and remember how to fly again 

Because luckily for you, and unluckily for defeat, 

you already know a little something about winning 

You already know a little something about the fight 

You already know a little something about defining resilience…

— Daishaundra Loving-Hearne

Poet, writer, social justice advocate, and choreographer Daishaundra Loving-Hearne is no stranger to the arts or the power they hold. She is the CEO of Urban Poets Society and Loving Hearne, LLC, both organizations in our community centering the youth, art, empowerment, and mental and emotional wellness through a social justice & DEI lens.