The Breath of the Ancestors- Octavia Butler

I frequently catch the breath of the ancestors. Their words caress me gently, yet rock my foundation. Their wisdom guides me. Their passion inspires me. Their forgiveness heals me. It is in their honor that I share posts entitled 'The Breath of the Ancestors.

 

I had the privilege of attending the Allied Media Conference in Detroit last week, for the second time. During a number of sessions, I heard numerous people speak the name of science fiction writer Octavia Butler. Though I own a few of Butler's books and have read articles about her and her life, I had never actually read one of her books.

Ebonia, a friend I had in college gave me a copy of Fledgling as a gift, but it got destroyed in a basement flood before I had the chance to read it. I purchased Kindred as an eBook, but it is currently keeping company all the other books I collect but don't read on my Kindle.

However, something happened at the conference that made Butler more intriguing and caused me to want her energy to manifest in my life. Adrienne Mare Brown, Walidah Imarisha and several others spoke about Science Fiction in a way that changed my interest in the genre, and pushed Butler to the forefront of my interest. They said that Sci/Fi "allows us to create the world we want to live in." I read about how Butler said that, when it comes to Sci/Fi, "there are no rules."

Sunday, the last day of the conference, I sat on a nearby patch of grass on Wayne State University's Campus and thought about Butler and what she seemed to mean to so many. I pondered Octavia's Brood, an anthology of radical science and speculative fiction edited by Adrienne and Walidah, named in honor of Butler. Butler was breathing on me

I went to the library to check out a copy of the Parable of the Sower. I began reading it while I was walking down the street when something interesting happened. A brother was riding a bike down the street. As he passed me, he yelled "A black man with a book is a powerful weapon. You are a powerful weapon my brother." I quickly yelled back "Peace," which was all I could manage to get out quick enough. I looked back at the pages and smiled.

I later learned the last day of the conference was actually Octavia Butler's birthday. Something happened that day, The ancestors were breathing on me, giving me confirmation that the words of Butler needed to be a part of my journey. To that I say, Ase.