Epilogue: SendFlowersToGreenwood
Dickinson says, “After great pain, a formal feeling comes—”
But, the poet never explained how long one must wait before formality overcomes pain—before the stinging, ringing, tension of loss settles to stillness and order. How long before a community is able to wrangle the chaos of death and destruction to a single story, a healing ceremony, a cleansing ritual, a memorial, a poem, a song?
After the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, the formality that helps communities recollect & remember was denied. Black folk were forced to clean up, move away, and stay silent in the midst of revisionism and lies.
The formalities were limited to private spaces, whispers, and oral history passed from grandmother to grandchild—until now.
A century later, the formal feeling came with a force. Greenwood community members, descendants of victims of the massacre, and even survivors of the massacre gathered, memorialized, educated, and caused the world to watch. Surrounding them were folks like us—artists, film makers, poets, singers, dancers, and community leaders. With them, The Wild Mother helped create beautiful formality inspired by a belief that Art is Medicine.
Shifts
#SendFlowersToGreenwood was more than we initially imagined. In fact, our time in Tulsa was full of changes, the biggest of which made our hearts drop and caused minor panic. While processing tens-of-thousands of stems, preparing for our first scheduled installation on May 31st, Leah received a text from the event’s producer. “URGENT — please call me.” On that call, she learned that the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre Centennial Commission had cancelled its Remember and Rise event, which was scheduled to feature headliners and speakers in the ranks of John Legend and Stacy Abrams. There wasn’t much of an explanation for why such a sudden change, but in the hours following, news reports surfaced that century-long tensions and injustice at the hands of the Commission—which is an extension of the Tulsa City government—toward descendants persists today.
Descendants are (still) owed reparations for the dumbfounding loss of property, destroyed in the massacre. Most importantly, they’re owed a sum that accounts for the generational increase in the value of their property, businesses, and the US dollar. All these things that Black people built just over 50 years after emancipation would have established generational wealth and a strong start in the pursuit of happiness promised to all American citizens.
But, neither the city’s Centennial Commission nor the politicians leading this group have provided fair and actionable paths toward adequate reparations. So, the Commission’s event was cancelled upon the rightful demands of descendants and victims of the massacre as well as Stacey Abram’s presumed allegiance to the descendants.
Though the changing events caused stress and tension, we are so deeply grateful we were divinely offered a way into a fuller expression of communal healing that better aligned with our original mission. In hindsight, the Commission, was not aligned in the way we originally believed. All that time, The Wild Mother was caught in the middle of a timeless tension between right and wrong.
The Pivot
Over the course of a few days following the news, we became connected with Dr. Tiffany Crutcher, organizer, activist, founder of the Terence Crutcher Foundation and descendant of Massacre victims. She welcomed us to place our floral tribute at Legacy Fest’s Closing Remembrance Ceremony, hosted by Tulsa Community Remembrance Coalition in partnership with Equal Justice Initiative. This event happened to fall on the same day and time as our original timeline, which meant we were right on target to finish all the prep work necessary to create The Covering.
We made decisions in under six minutes that previously took our team six months to determine.
Above graphics posted to social media May 31, 2021.
The Gift of Teammates
Team communication on May 27, 2021:
These sudden changes not only affected the Three Sisters, but they also had an impact on our teammates—fresh & paper florists, hospitable helpers, fundraising committee members, and others. Many of these travelled great distances to meet us in Tulsa, believing their work would contribute to a specific event. It was intimidating to share the news that our plans were being changed so suddenly. But on the other side of the truth were the kindest and most endearing responses. And, a we formed a bond in the midst of this uncertainty.
Our team’s flexibility & support was key to our success. And when they finally arrived for the first day of work together, the feeling was larger than life—a powerful sense that the mission to share Art as Medicine was far greater than the details.
When the day arrived to install The Covering, we felt the rightness of the moment. We were exactly where we needed to be, and the installation on Standpipe Hill was far more meaningful. Working together, making improvisational decisions, and allowing creativity to lead was symbolic of a healing journey.
Our creativity and abundance carried us across the block to spontaneously place an installation at the Steps to Nowhere, a site where Black family's homes used to stand. Today, there only remains rows of concrete stairs that lead to empty plots the City of Tulsa ascertained after the Massacre. On one of the stairs, an homage to George Floyd was sprayed in graffiti, a reminder that the same systems of oppression and distain for Blackness still persist. The land remembers.
We placed our flowers there—a meditative garden for visitors to journey through. For the next few cool & misty days, folks used this space as an alter, adding their own tokens and blooms to pay respect.
Collecting Soil on Standpipe Hill
Rain clouds hung low, but held their release as we gathered around The Covering—the crowd organically standing, kneeling, sitting, and changing shape as others joined. We formed a heartbeat & pulse around this trauma site and began to breathe new life into a space where death had been the primary order of business.
The air was unusually crisp for late May in Oklahoma, but the coolness allowed for the crowd’s closeness, so we gathered shoulder to shoulder, huddled as if witnessing sacred instructions whispered gently in the air.
Folks perched further up Standpipe Hill, the high ground where white mobsters are known to have stationed sharpshooters to pick off Black Wall Streeters and weaken the lines of defense created by the Black men of Greenwood. Others were seated in a small semi-circle of chairs reserved for dignitaries, decorated veterans, and survivors of the Massacre. The outer layer hosted news crews, cameras, and reporters. At the center, a table was laid with textiles, empty jars, and the loose stems we placed. And in the distance, a drum circle played quietly and methodically—the opening to a sacred space.
If we were to tell you exactly what happened during this ceremony, it would sound simple, and it was. It was as simple as it was profound. The poem below attempts to captures those profound moments:
On this day, the Hill was reclaimed as we anchored our flowers to the ground, laying a blessing upon that trauma site. The Covering played its intended role—to surround the speakers and participants of the ceremony with peace, safety, and edenic reverence. This intimate setting was protected for this ceremony, and when it ended a light rain shower washed away our mourning. There was dancing and singing in the street.
News Reports & Features of The Covering
The Covering was experienced and photographed by so many. Please enjoy these links:
News articles:
'It's shameful.' Massacre survivors' lawyers demand Tulsa be the next city to pay reparations, CNN article
Biden To Visit Site Of Tulsa Massacre 100 Years After Tragedy, MSNBC News
Emotional Photos Show How Tulsa Is Marking 100 Years Since A Massacre, Buzzfeed News
“It Feels Like We’re Profiting Off Of Black Death”: Tulsa Residents See Civil Rights Tourism But No Reparations, Buzzfeed News
Social Media Posts:
Joseph Rushmore, @no_jackson, Portrait of Dr. Tiffany Crutcher under The Covering
Joshua Rashaad for The New York Times, @joshuah_rashaad, Viola Fletcher holds TWM bouquet
ABC News, @abcnews, photo of Callie giving flowers to Viola Fletcher
Our Team
Many thanks to those who made Send Flowers to Greenwood Possible—our team of florists & helpers on the ground, our sponsors, and the hundreds who raised funds via GoFundMe.
Fresh Florists
Kaitie Allen, Anthousai
Halle Applegate
Linda Christensen
Lauren Doyle, Okie Fleur
Ginny Early, Enemies of the Average
Chelsey Farrugia, Graham Stanto Co
Taylor Fowler, Eversomething
Natasha Fraser, Earth and Ivy
Robin, Graham Stanton Co
Sarah Hall, Hall and Co Flower Farm
Yliana Lara, Florecita
Sue McLeary, Passion Flower Sue
Ana Nunez
Jenny Rausch, Anthousai
Bailey Robinson, Crooked Roots
Twyla Rochelle, Remi and Gold
Callie Palmer, TWM
Lauren Palmer, TWM
Leah Palmer, TWM
Hospitable Helpers
Hannah Ashford
Jessica Mayfield
Amy McGee
Joel McGee
Britta Newton-Tarron
Paper Florists
Stephen Brooks, Indiana Paper Company
Quyhn Nguyen, Pink Posey
Nicole Neilson, The Flowers of Faith
Faith Neilsen, The Flowers of Faith
Abigail Nielsen, The Flowers of Faith
Ashley Reagon, I Bleed Heart
Rebecca Thai, My Bespoke Event
Sponsors
