How memory mapping preserves ancestral stories | Arsimmer McCoy

What if moving forward isn't a straight line. What if it bends like memory. What if it circles back.There's a kind of map that I carry in my body. It's not the kind you fold. It's made of green grease, the hum of box fans and hurricane winds.This map has names like Scots, Ghouls, Chocolate City, and Overtown in it. I am asphalt and fire ants, sweet blood for mosquitoes. I am the daughter of tobacco fields. I am the grandchild of mustard greens of mustadines fermented and turned into moonshine.I come from do ...