Memphis: A Novel(74)
Aunties and Uncles and Cousins and ’em. Auntie Winnie (in her kimono), Auntie Rita, Auntie Joyce (in heaven), Auntie Carlis, Auntie Gayle, Auntie Betty Ann, Auntie Charlene, Auntie Rosie (in heaven), and Cousins Tia, Larniece, Lamar, Alexis, Erica, Nicole, Xavier, Quinton, Malcolm, Lauryn, Dahlia, Sean, Vincent, Terumah, TJ, Nia, and Uncles Sput, Effrem, Errick, Thomas, and Flamingo. Y’all have showed me what it means to be a graceful, gallant Stringfellow woman. Next time we meet, let’s pour one out for Papa & Grandma.
Soumeya. My stalwart protector, my fiercest champion. Few folk have ever believed in me as much as my literary agent, Soumeya Bendimerad Roberts with HG Literary. Soumeya, you took a chance on me when I had twenty pages of this novel, a negative bank balance, and another year yet to go of my master’s thesis. I signed with you on the same day I signed my divorce papers. We soldiered through this with nothing but the belief in each other. And the beautiful, unrelenting Marine in you never wavered. You charged that hill, carried me wounded on your back up it, staked that flag. I have no idea how or why. But I’m Catholic. So, I reckon a large part of me believes wholeheartedly in miracles, and thus, in angels. Grazie mille, Soumeya.
Katy, in short, you dazzle me. I have been blessed with the most brilliant of editors, Katy Nishimoto, who took such care of both me and my words. I am in awe of you and your steadfastness with this labor of love. And though your work was tantamount, the poet in me believes fate had a hand in this. Both of our grandfathers served in World War II. Hers, in the majority Japanese 442nd Infantry Regiment, the most decorated unit of its size in military history. Mine, lynched upon his return. When I had finished the novel, I wrote Katy a note: I believe we did our grandfathers, our ancestors real proud, Katy. We did a right fine thing here. A right fine thing.
To my entire Dial family—Donna Cheng, Sabrena Khadija, Jenna Dolan, Robert Siek, Matthew Martin, Debbie Glasserman, Debbie Aroff, Avideh Bashirrad, Michelle Jasmine, Ayelet Durantt, Corina Diez, Maya Millett, and Andy Ward—thank you for taking such good care of both me and my words. Y’all have made this entire book process into an actual fairy tale for me; every edit was a step through an enchanted forest. Whitney Frick, the care, the attentiveness, the affection you have as the leader of this powerful family has always been so evident to me. You have done me, my kin, and the city of Memphis a great honor by publishing these words. So I thank you. With everything that’s in me, I thank you.
Professors—Dr. Reginald Gibbons, Dr. Juan Martinez, Dr. Julia Stern, Dr. Barnor Hesse, Dr. Darlene Clark Hine, Dr. Christine Sneed, Dr. Rachel J. Webster, Dr. Simone Muench, Dr. Chris Abani, Emeritus Poet Ed Roberson, Dr. Bartram S. Brown, and Dr. Haki Madhubuti—you are not professors, nor mentors, but family. I am forever beholden to Professor Ragy H Ibrahim Mikhaeel and Charlene S. Mitchell for their last-minute Arabic translation. I must also put in a special note of thanks to Dr. Tracy Vaughn-Manley, who taught me many things at Northwestern University, but I believe the most lasting of all was how to quilt.
Wildcats, this wolf would be lost without her pack. Michael D. Collins Jr., Naliaka M. Wakhisi, Uchenna T. Moka-Solana and Wole D. Solana, Ama M. Appenteng-Milam and Jonathan D. Milam, Dr. Jason A. Okonofua, Mónica Guevara Del Bosque, Camille E. Trummer and Daniel Yeguezou, C. Russel Price, Pauline R. Eckholt, Lisa E. Weiss, Christopher J. Williams, Pascale J. Bishop, Caroline E. Fourmy, and Dr. Kiran Kilaru—we made fire in that Chicago cold, didn’t we? With nothing but the love of each other, we made a spark up in that darkness. Watched it explode over Lake Michigan.
Law school mates Johanna Ojo Tran, Mary K. Volk, Jennifer Rexroat Lavin, and Laura B. Homan. Y’all have taught me that sisterhood comes in many colors, in the most unexpected of places.
Brooke A. Fearnley and Elizabeth M. Sampson. Oh ladies, y’all have lit a fire in a hearth in my heart that I’m certain will never die out. Simply put, we are sisters. Stay out of the woods. Love that man of yours. Stay sexy and don’t get murdered. Call me always.
Hair is as much a part of this novel as music is. So I must acknowledge my lifelong hair stylists for simply making me feel beautiful. All my life. Ms. Vivian Hunt of Harvey, Illinois, and Ms. Adrienne Hughes and Ms. Angela Caster of Memphis, Tennessee, I thank and love y’all.
All the flowers to the following female artists who kept my spirits high, who reminded me of the pride that comes with Blackness, who kept me writing: CHIKA, Ashian, Latto, Nicki Minaj, Megan Thee Stallion, Cardi B, Ella Mai, Corinne Bailey Rae, SZA, Lizzo, Noname, Mara Hruby, Chloe x Halle, Mary J. Blige, Marlena Shaw, Roberta Flack, Monica, Lady Leshurr, Rico Nasty, Alice Smith, Big Bottle Wyanna, Beyoncé, and, of course, Ms. Anita Baker.
I’d also like to thank a few actors. Cinema, more than anything, inspired me during the writing of this novel. A few performances over the past years have simply floored me. And I drew upon the pathos of these dazzling performances in order to bring my own characters to life. I have never met these women, but I feel as if I am beholden. I could write a million poems to Niecy Nash, Janet Hubert, Dominique Fishback, Viola Davis, Aunjanue Ellis, Karen Aldridge, Taraji P. Henson, Lupita Nyong’o, Radha Blank, Shakira Ja’nai Paye, Bria Samoné Henderson, Wunmi Mosaku, Cynthia Erivo, Regina King, Whoopi Goldberg, Jada Harris, Angela Bassett, Natasha Rothwell, Kayla Nicole Jones, and, once again, Mary J. Blige.
It is difficult for me to pen how extraordinary it can be for a Black woman to sit alone with her thoughts in public without being accosted or heckled or told to go back to Africa, or to pay the bill upfront, or that she looks exotic, or to smile more, or to keep it down, or to hurry up and eat, or to remove herself as quickly as possible so that the white man at the bar can sit. So. I’d like to thank the following restaurants, all over this world, that treated me with some dignity while I wrote this book. I wish more American establishments were on this list, but alas, my country has a very long way to go in learning how to treat Black women little better than dogs. Grazie mille ai questi ristoranti: