Here’s One Of the Top Reasons I’m So Strong and Resilient

I’m nobody’s superwoman, but I’ve survived a lot proving to myself — and others — just how strong and resilient I am. There are many reasons for this and I won’t bore you with my entire life’s story, but there is one reason which has birthed a mantra I rely on regularly. That simple mantra is just two words: Patsy walked.

See, Patsy was my great-great-great grandmother and she was enslaved here in the United States. When she was sold from one evil trafficker to another, she was forced to leave behind two young children. Her last memory of them was of the oldest child holding the other in a doorway — all of them grief stricken and howling in tears— as Patsy was being torn away.

Patsy had another child, though, an infant who, for some reason, she was not forced to part with. She was, however, forced to walk from Cincinnati to Jackson, Mississippi all the while carrying this baby and was not allowed to ride in the wagon of the devil who’d “purchased” her. Patsy was told several times to throw the baby “in the river”, but flat out refused to do so. I owe my entire existence to her dogged rebellion during that exhausting and most depressing walk.

See, the child Patsy refused to surrender to her fate grew up to be my great-great-great grandmother who eventually gave birth to my great-great grandmother, who birthed my great-grandfather, who then birthed my grandfather who birthed my mother who then birthed yours truly. Patsy’s literal refusal to throw her child away is the very reason why I am even here today.

While I’m sure Patsy never recovered from the cruel, sadistic torture set upon her by the soulless White traffickers who so ruthlessly used her for their selfish gain, that one heroic and fearless decision she made lives on today. Forced to work to build a railroad, Patsy passed her story to that infant, who passed it on to her child and so on and so on. Though stricken with unimaginable terror and grief, Patsy’s mental strength and fortitude lives on inside of me.

So, I owe it to Patsy to be courageous when faced with adversity, to keep striving for better and to never give up hope. I represent her hope and if she can survive the horrors she was presented with, then I can face whatever comes my way. My troubles pale in comparison to hers, but she and I share DNA and so I am, by nature, “Patsy strong”. I’m ever mindful that if I give up (and I have wanted to many times), then Patsy’s supernatural love, power and stubbornness was drawn upon in vain. I won’t fail her; she paid too high of a price for me to be here. So when I’m feeling down and hopeless, I just remind myself that Patsy walked.

I repeat that mantra to myself when I am stressed, when my back is up against a wall and when most options have seemingly disappeared from view. I repeat it when I am bone-weary and when feel like I literally can’t take another step. I just say to myself over and over again that, “Patsy walked”. Her blood courses through my veins and I remind myself she lives inside of me.

On my inaugural trip to Ghana, I took my beloved ancestor, Patsy, with me. I took all of the ancestors home, of course (I have more stories of others that I’ll save for another time), but with her story resonating so deeply in my spirit, I had to have a bracelet made there with her mantra on it. It’s a little battered (I wear it a lot), but here it is:

To all of you reading this, I hope you’ll also take Patsy with you and embrace her as your heroine, too. If you are CHOSSA, who knows? She may even be your ancestor, too (CHOSSA = Children of Stolen & Sold Afrcans). See, we have no idea what happened to the two children she left behind and so it’s very possible they are also your great-grands. As CHOSSA, we often face difficulty and barriers when tracing our roots and so even if you cannot trace directly back to Patsy, I hope you will draw inspiration from her story as we all do with so many of our collective ancestors.

I’ll end by saying I have the transcript of an interview my uncle (who is now 100 years old, btw) conducted with his father (my great grandfather) in which this story is told. If you’d like me to post it, just let me know in the comments.

Do any of you have a specific ancestor pushing you to be your best? Please share that story in the comments. I even encourage you to write it down and publish it as all of our ancestors’ stories are important and should be amplified.