Aida thinks that categorization and little tiny thought boxes are so last century. She was raised by a rich, black banker and a poor, white missionary in the first and third worlds. She loves to question the way things have always been. Rainbow thinking is so much more fun than the two options given by black and white.
Growing up in Haiti, she was raised to believe that life was a permanent vacation. Oh sure,she went to school, but it was just something one did to fill the day and then life began. She ran wild with the boys, climbing trees, fishing, exploring the mountains, and holding the school-wide title for loudest, longest burps. But, she did it all in pretty dresses.
Weekends were for longer trips into the countryside. Beaches, rivers, mountains, rice paddies, banana groves and coconut forests were all picnicked in.
The house in which she grew up had no windows. I mean, there were wrought iron-covered holes in the wall. Some holes were just about big enough to be the whole wall. But there were no glass panes, no shutters. The weather inside and out were the same. During rainstorms, she would push her mattress up under her window to feel the rain mist her face as she slept.
She did have one job working inside once in the states. There was no view. The only recycled thing was the air. It was never fresh. It was an insurance company call center. It almost killed her. She is like a plant. Sun, water, dirt are her favorite nourishment.
Aida loves to dance to drums. She got in trouble in kindergarten at her christian school for shaking her booty to the funky tune of Silent Night.
She is a single mom who is unschooling her single kid. She believes that the modern way of raising children with just two parents or even worse, one isolated parent crushes souls. It is so much more fun to have a tribe. And having a tribe to watch the kid means mommy always has time to get her nails done.
She lives in both the United States and in Haiti, even if it is sometimes only in her dreams.
Aida is going back to school soon to study EcoPsychology. (And she didn’t make that up.) She’ll hopefully get paid one day to be a weirdo.
For now, she is what she has always been: an Herban Cowgirl. Granted she didn’t always have that tidy little title. She fishes, gardens, makes all sorts of magick in the kitchen, gets to know the new person that her son is on a daily basis, wears funny shoes, forages chickweed to feed her chickens, admires her dog’s dogginess, misses Haiti, rocks the overalls, and is on a quest for a perfect night’s sleep.