Great! Newsletter #37: The Story of Tanisha Washington, Part 1
A normal girl with a normal hobby.
**This newsletter might be too long for your email. To read the entire piece uninterrupted, please visit my main Substack page.**
Welcome, adventurer!
I’m Alexandria Love, and this is my newsletter, The Great! Newsletter, where I tell you about all of the things I’m great at. 37 issues down, infinity more to go!
In today’s newsletter, we’re going to talk about two more things I’m great at, the first of which is picking talented friends like illustrator and animator Adrienne Lobl. A few years ago, I wrote the first few chapters of a fictional story about a village of witches that lived in the Louisiana Bayou. I begged Adrienne to contribute art, which brought the story to life. Even though the writing feels very different from how I write today, it’s still one of my favorite projects, partly because of Adrienne’s contributions. Do yourself a favor and check out some of Adrienne’s other work.
The second thing I’m great at is segues. With that said, I present for your enjoyment the final boss of the woke liberal agenda…Tanisha Washington: Nazi Hunter!
Tanisha Washington: Nazi Hunter
PART I: Once Upon a Time in Louisiana…
Tanisha Washington never had the urge to be normal, and so she never bothered to become normal. Tanisha didn’t think she understood what “normal” even meant – was it normal that while the other teenagers in her village spent their time socializing and learning magic that she would prefer to spend an afternoon working on her old beat-up truck? Maybe. Maybe not. All Tanisha knew was that she knew how she liked to spend her time, and that was good enough for her. It was also good enough for the people who loved her. Her grandmother, Granny Ella, was one of the most esteemed elders in her village, and Tanisha was her pride and joy. Why wouldn’t she be? Tanisha would be the first person in the history of the village to leave for university. Everyone was very proud. Tanisha was proud. She was more proud, however, that she was finally able to put the finishing touches on her old truck that she found abandoned on the outskirts of her bayou village. Two years of work, and finally Tanisha was going to get that old motor to sing like Granny Ella on Praise Day. It was late in the night, nearly morning, when Tanisha felt the roar of the motor for the first time. It purred under her fingers as she turned the key. Ahh, she thought. I knew I could do it. It’s just nice to have evidence. The joy was short lived – roar was extinguished just as quickly as it began. Tanisha sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Tanisha summoned her favorite vine – a beautiful plant that she has called upon to act as an auxiliary appendage since she was able to harness full use of her earth-manipulating abilities. With a flick of her pinky finger, the vine – whom she had affectionately named Claude – rose to attention.
“Evenin’, Claude,” she said, as the swinging vine nodded it’s top leaf at her in salutation. “I need some help. Can you turn the key one more time while I look under the hood?”
The edges of Claude’s leaf furrowed in exasperation. “Yes,” she sighed, “I know it’s late, and I know you need sleep too. We’re nearly done. Don’t be difficult.”
Claude’s leaf rose and fell in exhausted compliance as it’s first few feet of twine and wood piled into the car and readied itself to wrap around the key.
“Be careful now,” Tanisha warned. “Won’t have you breaking one of your leaves. I know it’ll grow back, but still.” Tanisha opened the hood to inspect the battery, but Claude wouldn’t turn the key in the ignition.
“What?” she asked.
Claude’s front leaf slithered out of the driver’s side window of the car and rolled up its edges into a point – as if he was signaling Tanisha to look over her shoulder. Tanisha whipped around to find her younger sister, Riley, aged about eight, standing in the doorway to the garage, wearing a long, soft peach nightgown that, due to her diminutive stature, bunched up at the ground.
“Young lady,” scolded Tanisha, “It’s nearly midnight. What are you doing up?”
Riley said nothing, her tired eyes falling to focus on Tanisha’s feet. Tanisha sighed and glanced back at Claude, who’s shoulder leaves rose and fell in a shrugging motion.
“Did you have another nightmare?” asked Tanisha, her voice softening a little. Ever since Riley fell into the swamp last summer, she would often wake up in a panic from nightmares of drowning in the middle of the night.
“Yes, Tani,” said Riley sadly, still staring at Tanisha’s feet.
Tanisha closed the hood of the car and Claude snapped upright out of surprise.
“Alright, then, you,” said Tanisha to Claude, “Go ahead off to the garden for bed. We’ll continue in the morning.” Claude nodded his top leaf again and slithered out of the car window and off into the night.
“I’m sorry, Tani,” groaned Riley in embarrassment, “I know you hate to be disturbed in your garage.”
“I hate it when other people disturb me in the garage,” said Tanisha, walking over to her sister and kneeling before her. “Not you. Come on, hop on my back and we’ll go off to bed.”
Tanisha was careful to carry her sister as quietly as possible so as not to wake Granny Ella – Granny Ella had been extra worried about the youngest Washington in the months that preceded her near-drowning, and while Tanisha loved and doted on her sister, she knew that worrying would do nothing. Tanisha silently crossed the mantle of the children’s bedroom with Riley on her back only to discover that the second-youngest Washington, Riley’s twin brother Ray, was still awake as well and was reading on his bed.
“Now, what are you doing up?” said Tanisha frustratedly.
“I couldn’t put it down,” said Ray, who quickly found a bookmark to close within his alluring pages. “Did you know that in some cultures, the color black is bad luck? In other parts of America, they think black people are bad luck. Can you imagine?”
“Don’t scare her, Ray,” scolded Riley. “Tanisha has to go to college soon. Don’t worry Tanisha,” said Riley as Tanisha lowered her into bed, “Anyone who thinks you’re bad luck is just being silly.”
“That’s right,” said Tanisha, turning off Ray’s nightlight.
“I think white people are bad luck,” said Ray, turning the nightlight on again. “It seems like they’re the ones going about doing bad things.”
“And have you ever met a white person, Ray?” challenged Tanisha.
“No,” admitted Ray. “But I read about them. This book says that white people stole land that wasn’t theirs.”
“What’s all this about white folks?” said a voice from the other side of the door.
“Now you’ve done it,” whispered Tanisha as Granny Ella entered the door. “Good evening, Granny Ella,” said Tanisha politely.
“Good evening, Granny Ella,” said the children.
“Good evening, children,” said the old woman. “Now, what’s all this I hear about white folks? Has Ray been reading those books again?”
“Yes, Granny Ella. I’m trying to teach him that there’s no harm in learning things, but that he shouldn’t judge folks based on the colors they don’t have. Ain’t their fault they turn red in the sun.”
“Granny,” whined Ray, “I’m just worried about Tani. She’s going off to school with all those white folks. I just don’t want them to treat her bad.”
“Ain’t nobody that can treat you bad if you don’t let them,” said Granny Ella, waving her hand over the hanging vine near the bookshelf, which awoke and waited for her command. “Lizzie, please put this book back, and don’t let him take no more ‘til morn.” The vine nodded in agreement and stretched and stretched until it’s long branches were wrapped around Ray’s book. The vine pulled the book back onto the bookshelf, and then dropped again into a deep slumber.
“At least someone’s getting rest ‘round here,” said Granny Ella. “And you all are keeping up your sister. She and I have to train in the morning. What in the world are you all doing awake, anyway?”
“Riley had a nightmare,” blurted out Ray.
“I did not,” said Riley, throwing one of her stuffed animals at her brother.
“Now, now,” said Granny Ella. “There’s no shame in being afraid, little one. But do you know what the best way to get rid of bad dreams is?”
“What’s that, Granny Ella?”
Granny Ella leaned over to Riley and kissed her on her forehead lovingly. “To go right back to bed and dream up good dreams.”
“Yes, Granny Ella.”
“Now, I don’t wanna hear any more commotion from here,” said Granny Ella, kissing her grandson on the forehead as well. “Let your sister rest. She has lots of preparations to attend to in the morning, hear?”
“Yes, Granny Ella,” said the children in unison.
“You best head off to bed too, love,” said Granny Ella to her oldest grandchild. “We have a wonderful day ahead of us tomorrow. Don’t let these little beetles keep you from getting your hours, now, hear?”
“Yes, Granny Ella,” said Tanisha, and her grandmother beamed with pride as she left the room.
“See what yah’ll done?” said Tanisha angrily.
“You can’t leave, Tani,” whispered Riley, a sense of urgency adding pitch to her tone. “I’m afraid if I go back to sleep, I’ll dream about the water again.”
Tanisha sighed, but relented. She motioned for her sister to move over a bit and made a place for herself on the bed. “Can you tell me a story?” the little girl begged, her huge brown eyes so shiny and reflective that Tanisha could actually see herself giving in to her sister’s request in real time.
“Yeah!” said Ray, leaping from his bed to join his sisters. “Tell us the one about the zombies.”
“I don’t exactly reckon that’ll leave room for good dreams,” commented Tanisha.
“Zombies don’t scare me,” said Riley. “But we heard that story two night ago, Ray. Don’t you wanna hear somethin’ else?”
“No,” pouted Ray.
“I wanna hear the story of the Maroons,” said Riley. “We haven’t heard that one in a while.”
“Well, don’t they teach that in school?” said Tanisha. “I’m sure you’ve heard that story plenty. It’s more like a history lesson.”
“It’s not history,” said Riley. “It’s our story. Please tell it, Tani?”
“It’s real late, yah’ll,” complained Tanisha, “Plus, it doesn’t bode well without the pictures.” Just then, The Great Book of Maroon History plopped into Tanisha’s lap. The siblings all looked up to see Lizzie the Vine mischievously slinking away quickly to her home on the bookshelf, flicking her smallest leaf in a motion that almost looked like she was trying to wink at the children.
“Fine,” groaned Tanisha. “But only since Lizzie told me to.” Tanisha opened the first page of the book and began the story as her siblings watched with delirious anticipation.
Once upon a time in Louisiana, our ancestors were held captive by –
“White folks,” said Ray.
“Shut up,” said Tanisha. “White folks aren’t the villains of this story.”
“The slave drivers were,” said Riley.
“That’s right,” said Tanisha, patting her sister on the head with her free hand.
Once upon a time in Louisiana, our ancestors were held captive by the villainous slave drivers. We were held captive for so many years that we forgot our tongue, and our powers. Gaia gave us this earth, and under the whi- I mean, slave drivers, we worked the earth night and day to grow crops for them and their families. And they treated us real bad. They worked us hard, and changed our names, and gave us no good food and made fun of the way our hair curled.
“Miss Taylor at the school said that the slave drivers were possessed by evil spirits,” said Riley, as Tanisha turned the page to show an illustration of the evil slave drivers that drove their ancestors away from civilization.
That might have been true. The evil spirits, or the slave drivers, or whoever it was that did all those bad things, kept us contained for hundreds of years. They knew that we had the power to control the earth and her many arms, so they put us in chains and small houses so that we couldn’t use our magic. And I know yah’ll know why people do bad things.
“Fear,” said the siblings in unison. Tanisha smiled with pride. They were very smart children.
That’s right. Don’t nobody do bad things because they’re born bad. The slave drivers were afraid that we would use our magic to do bad things to them, so they made us suffer for years and years. Every once in awhile, one of our folks would escape, but they usually were found and killed on sight because they couldn’t run fast enough to get away from them with all their dogs and horses and mobs. That’s when we started using our magic powers again. Gaia reminded the women of our kind that we can make trees rise to block evil’s path, grow bushes for us and our families to hide in, and create vines for the slave drivers to trip over. Once our folks in Louisiana discovered their powers, they used them to escape to the heart of the Bayou. Those escapees were called the Maroons. Overtime, more escapees found their way to our hidden village, and the others reminded them of their powers. Except now, they didn’t have to use them to hide anymore. They worked together to grow branches for sturdy lumber, and trees for shade in the Louisiana heat. Over time, they made a Utopia here – they created schools, and libraries, and shops so that we can live here forever and never have to worry about the slave drivers, or evil spirits, that were chasing us. Gaia gave us the land after our Great Exodus, and we took the land and made it home.
“I wish I could have Earth powers,” pouted Ray. “It’s no fair that just the girls have it.”
“Well,” said Tanisha, “You’re just about one of the best readers I know. Maybe that’s your special power.”
Ray’s frown softened up a little bit. “Yeah, I guess. I was reading a book that said that sometimes us Maroons can acquire powers through stressful events, whether you’re a girl or not. Miss Taylor told us that her husband can conduct electricity since he got hit with lightning when he was a boy.”
“Well, I’ll have to call him to get this car battery working again,” said Tanisha. The kids laughed, and Tanisha laughed too.
“Well, that’s the story,” said Tanisha, finally reaching to the lamp to shut it off once more. “Do you feel better, Riley?”
“Yes ma’am,” said Riley, snuggling back up into bed. “Thank you for the story. I don’t think I’ll have any more bad dreams anymore.”
“Well,” said Tanisha, eyeing the empty vase next to her sister’s bed. “Do you know what to do if you do have a bad dream again?”
“Go back to sleep and try to dream up good dreams?” said Riley, her eyes beginning to close. Tanisha smiled and gilded her pointer finger along the edge of the mouth of the vase. A beautiful, solitary daisy burst from the void.
“Yes,” said Tanisha, as her sister drifted off to sleep. “And if that doesn’t work, you call me.”
Tanisha left her sibling’s room and was on her way to the garage when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Oh, hi, Lizzie.” The vine shook rapidly until the echo of the vibration continued to rattle all of her leaves.
“Yes, yes, I know, I need sleep. I won’t go to the garage, then, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’ll head off to bed.” Lizzie’s front leaves drooped a little bit, but perked up just a tad as Tanisha kissed her lightly on her flat, light green head. The little leaf poked her back on Tanisha’s dimpled cheek. Tanisha smiled as she carefully stepped over the vine to go to bed, and Lizzie watched as Tanisha made her way to her bedroom. If only she knew, Lizzie thought to herself in her singular mind, how favored she was.
Oh, and one more thing…
This is part 1 of the Tanisha Washington series. Would you like to read the rest?