Homegoings: A righteous space for art and race
Ferene Paris Meyer
Season 1 Episode 2 | 22m 29sVideo has Closed Captions
Ferene Paris Meyer is a Haitian-American storyteller who believes joy is her birthright.
Ferene Paris Meyer, a Haitian-American storyteller based in Burlington and the Founding CEO of All Heart Inspirations.
Homegoings: A righteous space for art and race is a local public television program presented by Vermont Public
Homegoings: A righteous space for art and race
Ferene Paris Meyer
Season 1 Episode 2 | 22m 29sVideo has Closed Captions
Ferene Paris Meyer, a Haitian-American storyteller based in Burlington and the Founding CEO of All Heart Inspirations.
How to Watch Homegoings: A righteous space for art and race
Homegoings: A righteous space for art and race is available to stream on pbs.org and the free PBS App, available on iPhone, Apple TV, Android TV, Android smartphones, Amazon Fire TV, Amazon Fire Tablet, Roku, Samsung Smart TV, and Vizio.
Providing Support for PBS.org
Learn Moreabout PBS online sponsorshipMore from This Collection
Video has Closed Captions
The multi-talented Liza Phillip paints and sings, inspired by our shared human condition. (28m 25s)
Video has Closed Captions
Rajnii Eddins shows courageous vulnerability in his candid, spoken word artistry. (27m 6s)
Video has Closed Captions
Homegoings welcomes soul-folk singer-songwriter DonnCherie. (25m 21s)
Video has Closed Captions
Senayit Tomlinson, performs her unapologetically genre-less music. (27m 1s)
Providing Support for PBS.org
Learn Moreabout PBS online sponsorshipWhat's up, everybody?
I'm Myra Flynn, creator of Homegoings, the Vermont Public Podcast, featuring candid conversations about race with artists of color.
The artists I interviewed are so prolific and so talented that earlier this year we put two and two together and asked ourselves, why don't we stage a live performance so folks can see some of this art?
We did just that and of course, we filmed it.
Every time we keep saying how white this place is you erase me.
In the spirit of curiousity, we topped off the evening with an open discussion that was, in fact, incredibly open.
No topic was off the table and there was no such thing as going too deep.
These are the conversations that are our birthright to have and the stories we are lucky to hear.
This is Homegoings.
Welcome home.
If I can quote for Ferene Paris Meyer, whos about to come up here next and say: you put two black people in a room where they are comfortable enough to share their vulnerability and you get pure magic.
So she's the founder and CEO of All Heart Inspirations, where not only does she storytell for a living, which is like, you got to be a genius to be able to make that a living, right?
She's also somebody who encourages everybodys story no matter what your story is.
She says everybody has one to share and tell and everybody has one that matters.
There's so many quotes that I'd like to say, but I'd also just like to focus on one.
She reminded me of something.
She says that she thinks a lot about hummingbirds and she aligns with them because you see them and they're moving so quickly.
But what you don't see is that they deeply rest and they deeply recharge.
And that is something that as black people, as we move through this, we need to remember that our soul needs.
And as all of us stay engaged in trying to figure out our pathway forward, we deeply rest as well so we can stay in it.
Please give it up for Ferene Paris Meyer.
I am an endangered species But I sing no victim song I am a woman, I am an artist And I know where my voice belongs Hello, hello, hello.
So earlier this week, I was thinking one vibe for this narrative, this storytelling evening.
It's not something I take for granted.
Being a black woman, being invited to speak my unapologetic truth into a microphone.
And I'm always reflecting on what am I being called to speak tonight?
And as someone who is circling the sun on her 41st year, you know, being a black femme, being a black femme of immigrant daughters, being a black queer femme, being a black mother, a black professional, a black entrepreneur, being someone who navigates mental health, anxiety, depression.
You ask yourself, What am I even allowed to feel today?
Because as Myra shared earlier, some of the beautiful pillars that come with Homegoings is around rage and joy.
I mean, grief, right?
Like these are emotions that have just been on repeat and cycle since my mom blessed me to come into this world from her temple.
And I think very early I started picking up what am I allowed to say and what I am not, what is worthy of being asked to come forward and what is because you are so threatened by my greatness, you try to silence me.
And so that song you've just heard by Diana Reeves.
I am an endangered species, but I'm not here to play no victim song.
I am an artist.
I am a woman.
And I know where my voice belongs and inspire black women because that's who I'm dedicating my performance to tonight.
Because what would this world be without black femmes continuing to labor us on literally their backs for centuries upon centuries, upon centuries?
But what I'm finding as I continue to make my path here in this Vermont state, I'm not going to lie.
Sometimes I look at my community and I ask, are they trying to extinct black women?
Because it seems like you hire us for jobs and we do them profoundly and then you try to block us.
It seems like you invite us to be a part of conversations, yet what we put forward isn't listened to.
If someone else of some different race or gender or ethnicity or values sees the same thought somehow it's moved forward.
So yeah, I'm reflecting on that deeply of what does it mean to be a black woman in Vermont, an endangered species according to world wildlife, an endangered species is a species considered to be facing a very high risk of extinction in the wild.
I don't know about you, but trying to not only survive, but thrive as a black woman in this state equals wild.
Because I'm not meant to be on this stage.
I think about my upbringing.
I think about my ancestors.
I think about my parents.
I think about the so many things that I literally with my body, have dabbled and moved and adjusted and pivoted.
Yet I'm still here, standing fierce, smiling, and not letting you break up my story because I know that I am my ancestors wildest dreams.
So I ask you, Vermont.
I ask you those that are part of our collective village.
What are you doing to protect us so that we are not extinct?
And when I say extinct, it's not just simply taking our lives.
God forbid we see so much of that on the news and in the social media.
But I'm literally thinking about how my neighborhood has less of us now.
The schools, the educators, the work environments, the communities, literally extincting the magical black femme.
And for me, this is something that I reflect on profoundly, because I am not here alone.
I am not just here because of my parents, Fera and Jolene Paris.
I am not just here because of the loved ones that I have in my life, but I know that I am standing here.
Breathing, existing.
Demanding you to remember the crown that is on my head.
Because I am held, lifted, supported somedays even cradled by the profound black femme community that exists in Vermont.
I was told of mountain ranges.
I was told of lake front.
I was told of all of these things that existed here.
But what I need your help to do, because I'm only one voice, is to let this global community know that we are here.
Because every time we keep saying how white this place is, you erase me, you erase The narrative that is actually here and vibrant and wanting to exist, not simply having a seat, but might literally say, back away because it is my turn.
Can I please get my turn?
Can Chenille get her turn?
Can Madison in this crowd get their turn?
Can Blane get her turn?
And so I ask you, what are we doing as a collective community to come together and cherish what this is?
Because I'm exhausted.
Id like to spend my time laughing.
I'm a pretty quirky ass person.
I do some wild things, like wear sunglasses without shades in them.
And so I would love to be quirky and I would love to laugh and I'd love to just kick it, and I'd love to just dance in the streets and I'd love to just step into spaces, not wondering who might be there so that I can cling on to them in order to feel like I belong in this space, too.
But it takes a village.
I'm Haitian.
I don't know anything without a collective community.
I don't know liberation without everybody being right there with you doing it.
We got a Haitian proverb: (speaking Haitian) If the hands are there, this weight will not be heavy.
This state has one of the most magical, abundant, brilliant, brown and black community that I have ever been able to be blessed to be around.
And I come from the city.
I come from Brockton, Massachusetts, so I cannot believe I'm here ten years later.
And it's because it does happen.
What Vermont doesn't realize is that brown and black folks are onboarding us when we get here, whether it's food at the table, inviting you to come to a show, showing up with a gesture at the door.
We celebrate with house concerts and Rajni being on Church Street with his, with black, brown skin girl just jamming.
And like, I didn't even know I needed that message until I walked down.
I'm like, I needed to be reminded that, yes, I am.
It's my birthright to exist and be here.
So we do this for each other, we level up, we amp each other up.
And I think I struggle with because at some point we're tired.
I need to be so intentional because my ancestors did not sacrifice what they did.
I'm from Haiti.
1804 First Black Republic to freakin free ourselves.
They're like, We've worked way too hard for you to stay quiet.
You have to be beautiful.
Sun kissed people.
You have to melanin up.
And when we can do that, that wall of joy is just rivers upon rivers.
I just want to drink from it.
(applause) every day I wake up and I count my blessings.
I count my blessings.
And I thank the ancestors that I exist and I thank the ancestors that they have given me a platform to serve my purpose and my calling.
And so my ask to this community is, what are you doing daily so that we can liberate black lives, not just a sticker or a post sign that you put on your lawn, not just a donation you put somewhere, not just a book that you read and that you could regurgitate in your next book club.
I'm talking action.
I'm talking daily moments because to save my life & the collective black femmes that exists in this community, it takes all of us.
Because what happens is they start to get extinct.
And me alone, just in the narrative that I have had here, when I think about Homegoings and what they do to celebrate a person returning back to their home after they've walked their path here on Earth.
I've been reflecting on the homegoings that I've gone to because I've had to say goodbye to too many black women.
I moved here and it's hard because you move here and you find a connection and there's a chance, six months, one year, they're gone.
And so for me, some performance that I am bringing into this energy is for some of my most dear black women that I'm deeply, deeply sorry that Vermont did not know how to love you, how you were deserved, and you deserved more because you're a person, because you're human, because the black narrative, single story that they want to attach to you and get stuck behind wasn't your weight to carry.
And wherever you are, I hope that you're healing from this place.
Daphne Wells, Henrietta Pasimore, Wendy, Sheena.
I'm talking about faculty.
I'm talking about medical staff.
Where's Brianna Martin these days?
Keeba Best, Shamitra Davis.
Veronica Jacobs.
These are warriors.
These are people that in moments when I could not do this thing called life.
They were here.
And now they're no longer a part of our community.
And I know that, though they have left maybe a year, five years, eight years ago, I still think of them.
There's not weeks that don't go by.
And I'm like, what is up with my queens, Lisa Norman and Taisha Green in Minnesota?
I'm asking, where is Dr. Rashiva Weaver?
Where is Swaomoe and their magical art.
Beautiful artist.
Even McKean is killin it on CNN.
We used to have her.
So when we don't step up, we don't do this collective work.
I'm telling you, we all are going to lose.
That's why I'm like, who else is going to love on the people that just keep hyping and loving folks up?
Myra will create a platform for us until she's like blue in the face.
But it has to be more than just Myra.
We have to create space.
I really want to believe that stories taking the opportunity for you to gift me the platform, to let you know who I am.
For me, trying to sit back and listen and witness who you are.
Like the first time I met Myra Flynn performing, I saw her out in Waterbury, and I was like, she I I'm about to follow this person wherever she's going.
And I'm going to tell her who I am.
I literally went up and I was like, Hi, I'm Ferene.
I have a big fro.
You'll probably notice me at your show, so just ask more is what you're saying.
Yeah, we have to.
I love the businesses that know my name.
It's not just give me a credit card.
I go to my dental hygienist.
She asked me how my cat Leo is doing.
Like she knows my cat's name.
It goes so far for me to be like.
You actually remembered that we, like, met you remember that?
I said said thing.
Having people show up, Ferene, in that moment, I didn't have an answer.
But I've been thinking of you.
And here I am with flowers.
Like that is everything.
And now when I run into the barber, I see so-and-so.
I'm like, That is Nathan who is into said thing because I have his story.
I'm not.
You're just not another name on a checklist for me.
I see you.
I see you the way your mom wants me to see you.
The way your family wants me.
See you.
We have to create space to talk, to listen, to exist, to ask more.
Stop doing the surface level stuff.
It's not getting us anywhere.
And we're just on this carousel of just pretending.
We got to crack ourselves open.
We got to exist.
We got to create the space.
And I do believe the world is just in profound need of storytellers and peacemakers and healers like my beautiful community on this stage and in this crowd and so that's just where I go.
And I just want to live more out loud.
And I want to create spaces for others to live out loud.
And I want us to remember what was said here tonight, and that you don't come out this door and just forget it haunts you.
The joy, the pain and everything in between.
We got to stay alive in each other's spirits.
That's where I would start.
(applause) As a storyteller, we all have stories worthy of sharing, and I'm using my platform to not only allow us to think about the narratives you want to give blackness, but I'm here to tell you it's dope, it's magical, its melanated, It's hairstyles, it's bright colors, it's sneakers, it's family.
It's the food, it's the culture, it's the music.
It's can't stop, won't stop.
Because at the end of the day, we are what we have.
And so with that said, please join me in what it means for us to literally put ourselves on the line to liberate Black Femmes that have been saving our asses for centuries upon centuries, upon centuries and we're tired.
We want to play too.
We want to bask as beautiful sun kissed people.
It's not just on me.
It's not just on my community.
Let's collectively liberate ourselves together.
Thank you.
I am an endangered species But I sing no victim song I am a woman, Ferene, you mentioned when we fillmed the homgoings video that we made.
You said Black joy is my birthright.
Yeah, I think we have to think of it that way.
I no longer say yes to any gig or opportunity that doesn't let me savor profound joy.
I don't care what the price tag is.
I don't want it because I'm withdrawing constant me because I do this thing called love and I need that poured back into me.
And so what that taught me in this whole thing with George Floyd is boundaries.
I have allowed myself to have boundaries because people are not entitled to my time.
So if I didn't birth you, if your name isn't on a certificate with me, if you ain't given me some intimacy, I do not have to stop my life for you because literally it's just, it's a hustle every day.
Like, you haven't even stepped out the house and you've already put out multiple fires.
And so boundaries and also being selfish and pouring myself abundantly around black people and I am not going to feel bad about it because since George Floyd, finding that that community actually can exist here and what it's done to heal my soul and to heal my spirit, like it literally, like took me ten years to find this like collective deposit into my heart with like a tribe of black women.
And it's been everything.
And it's hard and it's loving and it's multigenerational, but without that group, I don't know if I would have been able to keep my breaths to be off the stage today, which is why I had to dedicate my performance to them, to Black Femmes, to my school group, because they breathe life into me and we are acting like we are promised tomorrow or the next week or the next month, and we are not.
And time is the most expensive thing that I have right now.
So if I'm going to gift you my time, then you can't mask with me because I'm over that.
You know, like if you're going to exist with me, like, you got to be in this with me.
And if that's not your jam, cool.
Then go do that with somebody else.
But I need love, I need vulnerability.
I need us to admit that things are messy and we ain't perfect.
And it's okay that we're not okay.
(applause) Thanks so much for joining us.
If you want to continue to be a part of the Homegoing family, stay in touch at homegoings.co and subscribe to the Homegoings podcast.
Wherever you listen, take good care.
Homegoings: A righteous space for art and race is a local public television program presented by Vermont Public