Hey, listeners. As always, we love to hear from you.
So stick around until the end of the episode for our question of the week.
Then leave us a voicemail with your story at 702 -706 -TALK.
Hi, I'm Dave Isay, founder of StoryCorps.
This message comes from NPR sponsor Subaru.
This season, Subaru and its retailers are partnering with Operation Warm and providing children in urgent need with brand new coats, shoes, and socks.
Subaru, more than a car company.
Learn more at Subaru .com slash help.
It's the StoryCorps podcast from NPR.
I'm Jasmine Morris.
Black people just don't know the word give up.
I wanted you to be a good person.
I learned that from you.
Don't let anybody else define you, define yourself.
What's the best part of being my mom?
I like that no one dims your light.
We are indeed Brightness in Black.
This episode, three stories from our Brightness in Black initiative, a project sharing stories of Black love, joy, and triumphs.
Let's get right to it.
I am Kyle Morris Soul, right out here in Philadelphia, speaking to my pop, Kyle Morris Sr.
And we're going to do this thing right here, right now, for Sizzle.
What does black love mean to you and where do you see it in your life?
Black love to me, man, it's just like this force in nature, not being afraid to hold someone or scold them or hold them accountable or uplift them.
The ways it showed up in my life was seeing you and mom together, not just like holding the door for her, but how y 'all would laugh together and play.
Her singing to me at night, rubbing my back so I could fall asleep at three, four, five years old.
Or grandma, your mother, making sure when I came over there after school, I had some toast with butter and chocolate milk Nesquik powder two scoops sometimes three if I'm feeling froggy when you put up the Nestle's quick I could see that metal can in her cupboard and I would get the biggest glass and turn
it to a milkshake it's so daggone thick with chocolate yeah and just being at the opposite ends of the table sharing space holding space you know that's love and um I saw you shed one tear my whole life and that was at grandma's funeral and it was just one tear the The tears that I did shed, I always
shed privately. You needed strength around you to hold you together.
So I had to put up a front.
And I never really cried hard for my mom, no.
Maybe I should. But you can.
Yeah. You gotta let that out, mom.
I never really cried for her.
I just didn't know when it was going to come.
And here it is. All that I held on from the day I found her.
And then having to tell you and then be strong for everybody that walked through that door.
You did the best that you could with what you had.
Most people would have crumbled, but you kept showing up.
And I guess that's one of the things that I ultimately learned how to do too was just keep showing up, no matter how hard it got.
And listening to you, I'm thinking about, like, what am I going to pass down to Moses, my son?
Now he's only two Doing some change But every night After we finished Praying and giving Thanks to the ancestors I just talk to him About my fears My concerns I know he ain't Responding Because I start Hearing him snore But I need to show That it's okay To feel what you feel It's okay to let That hurt
go But it's also Okay to Ask for help We can go so much Further when we Lean on one another That's my word Love you Love you too That's Kyle Morris Sr.
with his son, Kyle Morris Soul, in Philadelphia.
Our next story comes from Soleil Henry and her teenage daughter, Tamar, who talked with each other about staying true to yourself, no matter what.
I'll never forget the first time you tried violin.
They called me back in that room within 20 minutes and you were playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
Mom, music helps me be myself because it is my natural talent.
Yes, you have talent.
You have an amazing gift.
You have gifts and those gifts, they're a part of you, but they don't make you.
Does that make sense?
Yes. I've always kept you sheltered because yeah, you're high functioning, but just hearing that word autism, it was scary at first.
But one thing I love is that you embrace it.
And I've heard you say to people, I have autism, you know, I think a little differently, but it was a fear of mine that you wouldn't be proud because of it?
To be honest, I don't really care of what people say because people are going to judge you either way.
It's not going to stop.
I just ignore it and just keep moving on with life.
Or my headphones because my headphones are like the key to my ears.
It helps me. Does it help keep the music in, drown the people out, or both?
Both. Does it help drawing your mom out too?
Well, you put it to that way.
I know it does. But that's you, though.
You know, you've learned how to cope in this hard thing called life.
I know you say it's hard being a teenager.
It is. An adult is harder, baby, and it comes with a lot more ups and downs.
There's going to be triumphs and disappointments, unfortunately.
But I don't have to speak up for you and tell people who you are.
You do that best for yourself.
What I wanted for you is what you're growing up to be.
You're that light. Be happy, be healthy.
Just be you, though.
What do you think? Love it.
Soleil Henry and her daughter, Tamar Anderson Henry, in Charlotte, North Carolina.
After the break, more stories celebrating Brightness and Black.
Stay with us. Support for this podcast and the following message come from Dignity Memorial.
When planning for life's most important moments, sometimes the hardest part is simply knowing where to start.
Dignity Memorial is here to help.
When you pre -plan a celebration of life with them, every detail will be handled with simplicity and professionalism, giving you the peace of mind that you've done all you can today to remove any burden from your loved ones tomorrow.
For additional information, visit DignityMemorial .com.
Welcome back. For our last story, we'll hear from Cherry Gregg, a radio host in Philadelphia.
She came to StoryCorps with her mom, Mary, to remember the person who helped her find her voice.
Grandma was one of my favorite people.
I love you, Mom, but that was my girl.
And I'll tell you why.
When you were born, I had to have major surgery.
So my mom took care of you the first year of your life.
Your first word was with her, your first walk.
I mean, she literally did everything the first year.
She was my first voice coach.
Yeah, she was. She used to write the plays for the church.
And I remember she made me be the voice of God.
And she used to have me like standing with my back straight in the kitchen.
And she'd tell me to project and enunciate.
She said you were a butterfly and I was not to clip your wings.
But you know what, Cherry?
Let me tell you something.
I was mad at you. So let's just clear the air, okay?
Let's just clear the air.
When Grandma was in the nursing home, you got a cell phone, and it only had 300 minutes, and you told Grandma she could call you every day.
And you told me that I had to call you on the payphone because you had to save that 300 minutes for Grandma.
But I want you to tell me about my great -grandmother, your grandmother.
Big Mama. Yeah. She actually was like 4 feet 10.
Tiny. Yes, and she sat in a rocking chair all the time, and I didn't find out till I was grown.
It was a child's rocking chair.
But you wouldn't know it because she just had such a big voice, you know?
Big Mama taught me to be okay in the skin that I was born in.
Somebody called me fat.
She said, honey, you're not fat.
You're just pleasingly plump.
Come on, let's go get some ice cream.
You know, so she was just always about being the best version of you, whatever that is.
How do you think Big Mama influenced how you are being a grandmother to your grandchildren?
She taught me to love.
She said, when you're dealing with your children and your grandchildren, lead with love and always remind them that you love them.
I tell you all the time, I love you from the moment you open your eyes.
I'll love you till God closed mine.
I wish I had met Big Mama, though.
I wish you had too.
I just want to make sure they're remembered.
Yeah, but they're in us.
So how can they be forgotten?
That's Mary Gregg with her daughter, Cherry remembering the women who came before them.
Don't forget to call our voicemail line to share your story.
This week, tell us about a person who helped you see yourself differently.
Leave us your answer in a voicemail at 702 -706 -TALK.
That's 702 -706 -T -A -L -K.
And you might hear your message on a future episode.
The stories featured this week were produced and edited by Sophia Ballin, Michael Garofalo, and Von Diaz.
With fact -checking by Katie Scott, Trinity Jackson, and Rachel Goldman.
Special thanks to Alan Jinich, Eleanor Jewell, and facilitators Destiny Jackson, Jordan Michael, and Sam Burkrodt.
This podcast is produced by Max Young -Rice.
Judd Esti -Kendall is our senior producer.
Our technical director is Jared Floyd.
And our executive producer is Amy Drozdovska.
The art for this episode was created by Liz McCarty.
I'm Jasmine Morris.
Thanks for listening.
Support for this podcast comes from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, a private corporation funded by the American people.
