Return | I'll Still Remember Summer

I’LL STILL REMEMBER SUMMER

Written by Olivia Sutton | Edited by Fréhiwot Bayuh | Designed by Ava Moran and Rayne Schulman

In thinking of timeless experiences and emotions, nostalgia was the primary inspiration for Olivia’s piece “I’ll Still Remember Summer”. It is a poem in response to Black Girl Please Remember Summer, first appearing in Issue 4 of Charcoal Magazine entitled Sweet. The intention was to take those images and memories of black summerhood and reassure the original author that, despite all that has transpired over the years and what has (and continues to) happen in the black community, we still have joy. We still celebrate ourselves and each other, we still dance and party and share stories. We take those memories of summer block parties and cookouts and create new ones with each generation. This poem is a declaration, a reassurance that, yes, we do indeed still remember summer.

I was told, once Begged, even To remember those summers Remember what they felt like Tasted, sounded, smelled like Remember the joy before it was snatched Before boys in blue barged into our black spaces

Minding our black business Making banners of our black faces

Before the colors of our sun soaked skin

Resembled dirt to the sun-deprived We’d shuck and jive to Mary J. Blige Earth, Wind and Fire Coursing through our veins Mixed with hard ciders and lemonade

This, was summer. Grills set ablaze, picnic tables adorned with colors of soul food and sleep aids

The greats and grand mothers, fathers, uncles, aunties

Would gather together and marvel at the sight

Of their great and grand children. The tales of old passed around like potato salad

“I remember when….”

As we rushed to the grasslands Surrounded by the jagged edges of concrete

To blow bubbles and flex our muscles

In double dutch and dance battles Sweat beaded our foreheads

As the dew of our existence The droplets to our memoirs Nectar to our joy

Bill, Lionel, and Marvin Cupid and Mariah And with a sprinkle of Salt-N-Pepa Beckoned us to the dance floor

Our bodies front and center Like synchronized swimmers, we danced FREEZE! Everybody clap your hands!

I could write sonnets of black suffering Endless paragraphs pleading for reprieve But instead, I’ll crack open this cold one

And sip slowly Close my eyes, and breathe The air, sight, smell Of black summer

Olivia Sutton (she/her) is a new employee as well as a part time student at Boston University. She was born in Boston but raised in South Carolina and is African American, though she recently discovered that she has roots in the Gullah Geechee islands. She is a writer and storyteller with a goal of publishing her first poetry book and turning her passion into a full time career. Currently she is studying American Sign Language and is interested in combining her love of writing with the art of ASL storytelling and poetry. Besides writing, she enjoys spending her weekends going out and exploring Boston, cooking, playing video games, and spending time with her family.