As I ponder on our current situation. I am in these two worlds. I want to see change in my community, create better spaces, but these are not quantifiable, they are not the numbers that investors want to see. In a moment of frustration I wrote this poem, that I want to share with you.
How do I measure?
How do I measure the people?
Can I convert hearts to currency?
What is the monetary value of the child that clings to the black doll at the back of the shop?
How do I explain what it means to the white mama who finds a home for her brown children?
Is it worth one pound or a million?
Where shall I buy more smiles and tears of joy? The wholesaler has none.
Should the black man who felt heard in a book club pay a higher price for the benefit he received? Or maybe the white man should pay more for the learning.
How do I turn hearts into currency?
Those who buy nothing, but just come and be. Surely there is no value and yet their peace of mind says there is so much.
So, what is it all worth?
The books.
The tears.
The sisterhood.
The brotherhood.
The new friends made.
The old ones rediscovered.
The Belonging.
The being seen.
The being heard.
Put it all in a business plan, explain the profit margins of justice and diversity.
Tell the funders why glue, glitter, encouraging words and cups of tea cost everything, build the future and change the world.