Once Upon an African Faerie By Mother Nateur
T
here is a kind of magic you can experience in a fairy space, and as a black man, I understand the privilege of choosing your own path and finding a community that holds and respects you. I don’t need to say much about my background, but I was taught that issues in our life can dominate us, hold us back. In Faerie space, where we allow ourselves to manifest, where we can create ourselves, I was able to find that what I learned in childhood was not my reality. My childhood didn’t teach me to expect the unfiltered love you can receive from an event like the Third Global Gathering of Radical Faeries, where I found myself in mid-February 2020, near Barrydale, South Africa. This gathering was special, as it was the first gathering in Africa and my first time as an African American in Africa. There were a lot of firsts for many of the folks who were a part of this wonderful creation, and a wonderful creation it was. Even so, I had some issues, and I’ll lay them on the table for people to consider.
34 RFD 182 Summer 2020
I’ll start by letting you know I was welcomed with love and warmth. The color of my skin did not seem to separate me, other than the compliments it got me—until I tried to unify my fellow blackand brown-skinned Faeries, the ones who lived in Africa and chose to come to the gathering. The people who lead Faerie gatherings, I’ve noticed, are loving, caring people who think about inclusion. That said, they happen to be predominantly white men. When dealing with the intersection of a radical space, combined with being a man of African roots with American history, combined with the Faerie magic that comes with the first event of its kind in Africa: It all makes for a potion of deep self-reflection, healing and learning. Therefore, it could have been beneficial to have a man of color be one of the organizers, so my healing journey could have been seen and given the chance it needed to prosper and grow. If we include a person of color in an organizing role, there won’t be the need to worry if the gathering will be more inclusive:
“Rudolphe and Mammy’s Boy,” photograph by Kwai Lam.
