❝ I grew up going to Sunday school
Little girl with big eyes and a bigger hunger for God
Mouth so full of Arabic before I even knew what my tongue was capable of
Allāhumma ṣalli ’ala sayyidinā Muhammad
And that word — sayyidinā --
That master
Sat in my chest like a stone I was too scared to name
Because where I’m from,
Master was not a title of love
Master was not a title we gave willingly
Master was the whip that bent backs
Master was the auction block, the blood on the bark of southern trees
Master was the reason my last name ain’t the one God wrote for me
So how do I, a Black woman,
Descendant of the stolen and the unspoken,
Pray with the word master on my tongue and mean it with love?
Little girl with big eyes and a bigger hunger for God
Mouth so full of Arabic before I even knew what my tongue was capable of
Allāhumma ṣalli ’ala sayyidinā Muhammad
And that word — sayyidinā --
That master
Sat in my chest like a stone I was too scared to name
Because where I’m from,
Master was not a title of love
Master was not a title we gave willingly
Master was the whip that bent backs
Master was the auction block, the blood on the bark of southern trees
Master was the reason my last name ain’t the one God wrote for me
So how do I, a Black woman,
Descendant of the stolen and the unspoken,
Pray with the word master on my tongue and mean it with love?