C& Center of Unfinished Business

, so I dream: An Ode to Stuart Hall

Our author Aaliyah Lauterkranz was inspired to write a poem by Hall's pioneering thinking in the context of identity.

John Akomfrah (British, born 1957) . The Unfinished Conversation. 2012. Three-channel video (color, sound). 45 min. The Contemporary Arts Council of the Museum of Modern Art, The Friends of Education of The Museum of Modern Art, and through the generosity of Bilge Ogut and Haro Cumbusyan, 2016. © 2017 John Akomfrah.

John Akomfrah (British, born 1957) . The Unfinished Conversation. 2012. Three-channel video (color, sound). 45 min. The Contemporary Arts Council of the Museum of Modern Art, The Friends of Education of The Museum of Modern Art, and through the generosity of Bilge Ogut and Haro Cumbusyan, 2016. © 2017 John Akomfrah.

By Aaliyah Lauterkranz

In this series, we commission texts inspired by books from C&’s Center of Unfinished Business, currently installed at DAS MINSK Kunsthaus in Potsdam as part of the Noah Davis retrospective, which is on view until January 5, 2025. This edition of the Reading Room features the work of Stuart Hall, whose contributions on representation and cultural identity inspired our author Aaliyah Lauterkranz to write an intimate poem about identity and belonging.

 

 

, so I dream

Every colored child wants to belong to the world, so I dream of becoming soil.

At first, I’d be no more than the dry, brittle dirt of a plundered place. Like a sponge, I’d soaked up the blood of all the colonial genocides and I’d promise to reform into fertile soil. Soil so fertile and strong, I would house the brass and bronze You’ll melt into the material manifestations of Your ancestral histories. Soil so fertile and strong, I would form the foundation You’d build Your mother’s home upon. Soil so fertile and strong, I would nourish the plants that nourish the cattle that nourish You.

 

Every colored child wants to belong to the world, so I dream of becoming water.

I’d be the open ocean You’ll cross in search of safety. The same sea that stands as Your people’s final resting place. That spits out the tiny body of a little boy clad in red to sing of the injustices it bears witness to. Crashing. Breaking. Tugging at the frayed edges of Your world. Time and time again…
Or, maybe, I’d be fresh waters. The kind that baptizes You in a sweet embrace and allows for You to be reborn.

 

Every colored child wants to belong to the world, so I dream of becoming wind.

As wind I would run wild. I would tumble down the highest mountain tops to howl with the wolves. I would rustle every thick green leave in every tree to let You know that they are alive and well and singing for You. I would wipe away all the grey, smokey clouds from all the factory chimneys. And I would I topple all the towers You are building down in Babel. To make way for true architectures of empathy.
I’d be a small particle of air. And I’d belong to every living, breathing being on this planet: Inhaled and exhaled and then inhaled again.

 

Every colored child wants to belong to the world, so I dream of becoming a forest fire.

And I’d hope to be patient and healing and kind.

 

 

Aaliyah Lauterkranz (she/her) studies Art History, Sociology and American Studies at Goethe University, Frankfurt. She works as a freelance art educator and writer. Aaliyah has coordinated a publication project between theARTicle and Atelier Goldstein, served as the artistic assistant to James Gregory Atkinson, and held artist talks with Grada Kilomba. Her writing, which centers Black ontologies, cultural expression, and resilience, has featured in the official catalogue for the Biennial for Freiburg and the SCHIRNMag. Currently, she is working on the launch of her own blog 4opacity which will blend academic and creative writing to highlight decolonial perspectives in and around the arts.

 

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