In 1845, he left his beloved wife and four young children and took a ship miles

upon miles upon miles away and discovered what it felt like to finally be treated

like a HUman.
 

So many of us never leave what is familiar, trapped by honey like fear that oozes

into every facet of our lives and sticks to all of our fiber and cells unending us.

We are trapped by not knowing that the path paved for us was a righteous and

courageous one. We hear the words, the history, but the fiery hell horror of it all

has been too much for us to process.
 

Bold as steel HUmans, women and men, fled, escaped, crawled, swam, held

their breath, ran, hid, climbed, contorted their bodies into pretzel-like positions to

fit into black hole spaces to find their Free to fly like we do now to get to point A

to Z.
 

In order to remain sane, they had to swiftly teleport. While their bodies

repeatedly withstood the open wound pain, their minds went to secret, sacred

worlds that are still unbeknownst to us. They had to have a stargazing vision, a

follow the drinking gourd mission to find themselves on the other end of being

bought, and owned, contained, and sold, raped, controlled.
 

Their vision was otherworldly. Something I can only try to wrap my colonized

mind and heart around, imagine and pretend-play like I understand the half of it.

If I could only lay prostrate at the foot of your sacred garments and pay homage.

He took a ship to a distant land knowing that home was where he was a master

of his own body, and we are not bound to anyone or anyplace. We belong to the

Earth or maybe we don’t even belong here, and we are lost from some distant

galaxy, but you, you, you were our beloved captain steering us away from this

bitter place to uncharted sovereign waters.
 

Frederick found some allies, friends, and kindreds across the pond, but he had

to come back and finish the work of abolition for us all. We didn’t know all that he

had done.
 

He took a ship to lead the way propelled and guided by the drum beating of his

heart. May we come to understand your sacrifice, your unwavering fight, your

ability to see the breaking of dawn through the night. May we see the lie, May we

hear that it is a lie, May the chrysalis like unraveling be so palpable that we can

touch, taste, and smell the deceitful lips that parted to say that we are not

HUman enough and spit it all out. May truth permeate our every follicle. May it fill

us with a joyful buoyancy that lifts us like a child’s laugh beyond our familiar

meticulously placed borders. May we fly. May we fly. Baby, we’re gonna literally

fly.

Colie Aziza published her first children’s book, Corey’s Dreams in 2016 using her pen name Aziza M. Throughout her life’s work, she encourages both adults and young people to always follow their dreams.

Learn more at ColieAziza.com.