Week 1: Sunday Service Announcements
Before we get into the announcements the ushers asked for everybody to leave your church fan in the basket at the door on your way out. Okay moving on to the building fund for the new building...
Welcome to Sunday Service, but nothing like the ones you are used to. See here we keep it real, and we speak our truth. Nobody can silence us in this safe space. Ain’t nobody welcomed that don’t know about what it’s like to be Black in America, especially in 2024. We are all grieving in some way with these high ass rent prices, expensive fake food, I mean the list goes on…things are shit right now.
That’s why we created this space. We need a space to air it out and confront the elephant in the room. If you are here, you have this burning desire to call out the obvious and find a community to build a solution to execute. This may not be the community to take the government down, but we sure as hell can write our thoughts about it and have those conversations that you can’t have with the people you spend more of your time with.
It’s funny how you can be mentally in different spaces with the people you share your space and time with, but connect on so many levels with someone on the internet. Listen, y’all aren’t strangers on the internet anymore, we are family. On Sundays, we get together and read our word1 while we fellowship with each other in our Writers’ Circle. Our first community Writers’ Circle board meeting will take place on First Sunday, July 7th. After service today we need everyone to complete the poll to set a time for us to meet on Sundays to write in communion on First Sunday.
Chronicles of Change with Prophet
a little hood therapy for the congregation this Sunday morning.
I will not stand before you long today because we have guest speakers in the building today, and it’s not about me. Today we are getting back to the basics when it comes to love, freedom, and happiness as Black people. Today we stand here together joining hands and taking up space in a world that was meant to tear us down. But as our sister Maya Angelou said still I rise. Today we rise in gratitude not only for waking up this morning, and not only for our material needs being provided. We rise in gratitude today for a space to call our own, a space to build community and share space to heal and grow. We are free here, and each week we experience something new from a fellow brother or sister that we may not have come across in our timeline but your stories parallel as if you’ve experienced the same life.
This ain’t for entertainment, it’s for niggas on the slave ship. 2
That’s why this space was created because that’s what I was experiencing. BlackStack was an idea that birthed from the community coming together in the comments of each and every single Hood Therapy newsletter as we bonded over shared experiences I was vulnerable enough to share. See writing for us, in this space, is our escape from reality. Substack serves as a space to explore our emotions and thoughts through creatively and strategically structuring our words to form sentences that trigger memories within the reader. We write for ourselves to navigate and better understand the emotions that come up, but when we share our vulnerability we connect with the reader who we show up for by showing up for ourselves first.
These songs just the spirituals I swam against them waves with.
I don’t call myself a prophet out of arrogance or immaturity. That is what I am and anyone who takes the time to get to know me will admit that I am walking in my purpose as a prophet and I am prolific. On February 14, 2023, I went and got ‘Prolific’ tattooed on the left side of my face in true Nipsey Hussle style. I never regret that day, because I took the biggest bet on myself that day and it worked. I launched my creative therapy practice and made my rent that was due by 1 pm just 15 minutes into the consultation, the invoice was paid. A year later, I’m in California in the pursuit of finding a home, a more physical home now after finding my home with you here on Substack first, BlackStack now.
Ended up on shores to their amazement.
When I took that bet on myself I was cultivating Hood Therapy events in my neighborhood. I built a life for myself that I was proud of. I manifested the downtown apartment, my daughter’s school was less than a block away so she was a ‘walker’ for school, and my work day consisted of spending hours in the studio with music artists, rehearsals with bands I put together for Hood Therapy events and Zoom meetings in between with business clients to help them connect with their audience through authenticity. I decided I wanted to write a book and my rite of passage began. I’ve been on a spiritual journey for the past nine months in search of freedom, home, and myself. On this journey with me are my 8-year-old daughter and my wife, and our experiences allowed me to experience home within myself. I have been allowed to set myself free from the cultural traps that conditioned me, my mindset, and my beliefs.
I hope the example I set’s not contagious.
I’ve lived on a farm to learn self-sufficiency and that skill is what ignited my freedom from society. I can make my own butter, pancakes from flour, cornbread from cornmeal no Jiffy, and use my buttermilk from making my butter to add to my loaf of bread to keep it moist. I’ve fed chickens and goats, sowed seeds, and nurtured them until they served as nutrients for me. That experience also broke me in ways only I could rebuild myself. I moved my family into the basement of a white man’s home on his farm in Riceville, TN. Do I have to say much more? We left before our contract was fulfilled and that granted me the opportunity to free myself from home, the family origin of home. My mother tried and I tried but as a mother, I have to do what’s best for me right now. So I am in California feeling more at home than ever online and offline.
Lock us behind gates but can’t tame us.
I’m finding myself through writing. That was my gift at the beach. While building the life I desired there was a burning desire for me to write. I wasn’t sure what but I knew I was being called by Spirit to write a book. My experiences were the pages of my book. I found myself in writing that book and I continue to discover myself through my chronicles of change. I rise up from the past that roots in pain like Maya Angelou taught us to rise bringing back the gifts of our ancestors, being the hope and dream of the slave. I will not be tamed, nor will I bow down to be tamed. I am a Black woman with a burning passion to free my people from the suffering we have conditioned ourselves to endure. Enough is enough. It’s time we stop striving to be exceptional and redirect our focus back to ourselves. Let’s let the praise team take it over from here.
The Power of Rest: A Meditative Word By The Minister of Healing
…because I’m easy, easy like Sunday morning…
The Power of Rest: An affirmation of worth and dignity that reminds us that we deserve to be cared for, to heal, and to thrive.
When was the last time you sat down and did nothing?
I felt the burnout coming.
There was this build-up of suppressed overwhelm that needed to be released. With so many projects, ideas, and adulting - things were becoming a blur. I’m overdue for an update in my series, Tales from the (Mother)Hood, but until then… just know that the personal and professional were not balancing, and my sleep schedule? Non-existent.
hustle culture needs to die
Rest is a sacred and essential part of my life.
I won’t stand on my soapbox today (we’re supposed to be chilling), but I will drop this: Your hustle mentality is draining you of your life source… robbing you of your physical, mental, and spiritual health.
…but in this economy, it’s damn near essential to survive.
So, where do we go from here?
Do what you gotta do to eat - but take care of yourself in the process.
You’re not feeling joy, you’re not finding peace, you’re living off coffee & vibes, and forgetting to add water to the mix. I’m not here to read you, friend, but I am here to help, to remind you that hustle culture will outlive you if you don’t stand on business and honor yourself.
breathe, stretch, shake… let it go!
Let rest be your act of resistance.
Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Do this until you feel tension start to release from your body. Allow yourself to not only embrace the power of rest but understand the importance of going slow and letting go.
Choose to honor yourself. Acknowledge the parts of yourself that have been neglected. Recognize the energy that has been scattered amongst tasks and commitments that do not nourish your soul - and call that energy back to you. Visualize it returning to you, filling you with a sense of completeness and peace.
You are not a machine. You were not put on this earth to stay in the mode of “strive and achieve”. You are allowed to be still. To embrace stillness. To slow down and reconnect with the essence of who you are.
Allow yourself the grace to take it easy, especially on this Sunday morning.
Let rest be your radical act of resilience.
A declaration to remind yourself that your values are not solely tied to your productivity and contribution to others.
You are not a machine. You are a human. One who needs rest and replenishment to do the radical acts of services and passions that are within you.
Here’s to taking it easy. Be well, my friend.
Our Sunday Service ‘Balancer’
THIS IS THE DAY THAT THE LORD HAS MADE. LET US REJOICE AND BE GLAD IN IT!!
I bring you greetings from Los Angeles (Burbank), California by way of my hometown of Gary, Indiana. Today I stand before you with our Sunday Service Balancer. I’m sure you are wondering Sista Johanna, what is a balancer? Ask for the definition and ye shall receive.
Each week I update the Harmonious Balance website with a Weekly Balancer, a nugget of inspiration to ponder throughout the week. My offering to BlackStack on this Sunday is a three-part balancer that gets at the very mission of Harmonious Balance.
By practicing energy management holistically (physical, emotional, mental, spiritual), individuals will live their best lives, be their better selves and accomplish the greater good.
I won’t hold you for much longer. This Sunday’s three-part balancer includes:
Live your best life. My this is the day opening was not just for nostalgia. It serves as a reminder that joy is a balancer. Our emotional energy can easily be knocked off balance when life happens. We can be taken to dark and sunken places. Scripture reminds us that the joy of the Lord is our strength. That means when we have fallen weak emotionally, doing the things that bring us joy will strengthen us on our journey towards better days.
Be your better self. The focus here is all about our intentions which speak to our spiritual energy. Often when we apologize, we say that wasn’t my intent or I didn’t mean to hurt you. Well-meaning intentions only go so far as they usually do not outweigh all of the negative impacts. It’s time that we begin to close the intention-impact gap. Many will say that it’s easier said than done. Not according to the writer, former professional boxer, physics degree holding, fellow black-American contemporary,
.
“A strong value system is the easiest way to make decisions. When you live true, you know what you’ll do before the situation even arises. It’s the answer key to the test before the test is even written.”
Accomplish the greater good. For the third and final part of today’s balancer, our collective spiritual energy is the focus. Continuing the church fan theme, I am reminded of the man immortalized on church fans all over the country, possibly the world. A man that I consider to be Modern Day America’s Chief Balancer. I’ve written about his impact on me and thought it apropos, on this Sunday, to share what I wrote previously to encourage us to never settle in this struggle as America’s unsung balancers.
“His cause was justice but his words were filled with endless truths that go beyond matters of justice. His words answered many questions that I had; his words provide comfort; his words provide inspiration; his words provide direction; his words develop character; his words give thoughtful rebuke; his words changed and continue to change the world; his words impact my daily comings and goings.
His words underpin and affirm the work that I do with Harmonious Balance. I consider him to be modern-day America’s Chief Balancer as his mission was to set America right and put the country in proper alignment. His mission was to counterbalance evil with good; hate with love; darkness with light; discrimination with equality; despair with hope; injustice with justice; fear with faith; division with unity; is-ness with ought-ness.
‘I refuse to accept the idea that the ‘isness’ of man’s present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal ‘oughtness’ that forever confronts him.’
The mission of Harmonious Balance is cradled in that very idea. Though I will admit that I originally credited my inspiration in part to President Obama’s more plainspoken version and I’m paraphrasing, we shouldn’t settle for the world as it is but make it as it should be.
And the world can be better than it is. The world should be better than it is. The evil that we contend with today is the evil that has always been. It continues to rear its ugly head because we leave the door propped open for it by continuing to overestimate our ability to manage it and underestimate its catastrophic potential.
“Settling for what is is dangerous.”
Don’t settle, my brothas and sistas, Don’t settle. Amen?
Amen and onward to Harmonious Balance,
Sista Johanna Smith
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& On Sundays We Reflect:
Maybe Our “Bougie, Stuck Up” Aunty Was On To Something
I come from a big family on my mother’s side, my maternal grandmother had sixteen kids–bless her vagina soul–which resulted in me having eight uncles, eight aunties, and a slew of first and second cousins. My family is full of shit-talkers and comedians, many of them being funny without even trying. As you can imagine, there was never a dull moment being around them, and a time was had for me and my cousins whenever my family got together.
Me and some of the cousins at a birthday party
Los Angeles, CA
In Black families—as you all know—whether they’re big like mine, or smaller there’s always that one aunty who has been labeled by the family as either bougie or stuck up, “thinking she better than everybody else.” These are the aunties that typically only come around when somebody in the family dies, they almost always skip the family functions, or if they do show up they don’t stay for long. For me, that aunty was Aunty Fefe. I can count on both hands how many times I saw her at our family get-togethers and still have some fingers left over. I was told on many different occasions by her brothers and sisters that she thought she was better than the rest of us and since I was just a kid, I believed it without question. Now that I’m older, however, and I’m able to see my family’s dysfunction with adult eyes, I realize my aunty didn’t think she was better than anyone, and she wasn’t stuck up either, what she was, was a woman who prioritized her peace of mind and chose to distance herself from her family’s bullshit, and as I continue on my healing journey I’m realizing…I am becoming that aunty.
My uncle, me, my cousin and her friend
—Los Angeles, CA
Earlier I shared that my family is full of shit-talkers and comedians, it is also full of alcoholics, drug addicts, gossipers, and abusers. I remember being at a family get-together one evening, I was about seven or eight years old, and I was playing with my cousins in the front yard. While playing, my cousin Semaj’s shoe had come off and my other cousins picked it up and started playing keep away from Semaj, which eventually made him start crying. Me and my other cousins laughed and two seconds later one of my uncles, who had been watching us through the window, came storming out of the house–drunk–yelling and cussing at us while chasing me around the yard. At first, it was amusing to us but shortly after I got scared and started crying too, I stopped running and yelled at him to leave me alone, instead, he forcefully grabbed me, shook me, and then grabbed my leg to remove one of my shoes and threw it all the way into the backyard, telling me to, “laugh about that.” Playtime was over for us after that, but the adults, including my mother, continued partying as if nothing had happened.
While the men in my family tend to get physical when drinking, the women usually just get messy, bitchy, and fucking annoying. My aunties and older cousins are some of the most miserable women I have ever come across. Jealous of their sisters, nieces, and any other woman that has something they secretly want for themselves. They are notorious for smiling in your face and talking about you like a dog as soon as you walk away.
“You know she like girls right?”
“Mmhmm, a damn shame.”
“She’s on baby number 4 and still don’t have a ring.”
“He ain’t gone marry her, he’s probably out there cheating right now.”
The gossiping is never ending, and whenever they’re confronted about it they will lie and deny it with the most sincere tone in their voice. What Kendrick say? Master Manipulators. I realize now that most of them are unhappy with themselves making it impossible for them to be happy for anyone else—including family.
Now that I’m older, my Aunty Fefe staying away makes sense to me. I understand choosing peace over chaos and cutting people off regardless of familial ties. Black people are taught to stick by family no matter what but it’s usually our Black family that hurts us the most—so to that I say, “No, thank you.” I want to be around people who fill me up not drain me. I’m more intentional about what I say yes to now, especially with family gatherings. Before agreeing to anything I’m asking, “Who all gone be there?” And if I don’t like the names I hear I don’t go. I’m sure, by now, I have been given the same title as Aunt Fefe, and just like her, I do not care. Stuck up and think she’s better than everybody? I’ll be that. But what I’ll also be is at peace and no name-calling by dysfunctional family members will ever make me give that up.
Thoughts of a young Black man named,
This is my first time doing the writing in a coffee shop thing. I never grew up around coffee shops and Starbucks was always a cool “I’m in Manhattan” treat for kids like me. So this was never a comfortable place for me to sit and get creative. Nevertheless, I sit before you in the back of the all-white coffee shop on 12th and 3rd Avenue writing in my notes app. Asian-owned, but you get the gist.
I bumped into this article from my former employer and I found it very frightening. For two reasons, one because I was fired around this time last year from their editorial fellowship, and secondly because the contents of the article have me shook for my fellow Black remote workers. The jig might be up y’all! Whitey is on our hiney. Apparently, Quiet Vacationing is now a trend and it’s becoming a detriment to the workforce. AKA a detriment to the plantation. For those who don’t know or can’t get behind the Insider paywall, this is the act of taking a trip while working remotely without informing your manager. The cotton fields are not being picked at the same productivity levels as they are accustomed to and they are getting upset about it. I feel for em, but I couldn’t care less. Quite frankly, I didn’t even know companies were aware of this kind of stuff. But maybe that’s my 20-something naïveté that thinks my supervisors can’t tell when I’m clearly in a hotel room. Or at a restaurant. No matter how blurred out my background is. It’s actually depressing when you think about the fact that it’s custom for employees to take secret vacations while working. Because that just shows that this “work-life balance” kick that whitey is on is just a bunch of hogwash.
I mean realistically I know statistically a majority of the quiet vacationers are probably Black. And I don’t have any facts to back that up, but I have done this casually over dozens of times. I have also witnessed many peers and family members do the same thing for those who are lucky enough to work from home. And I justify this by my understanding that Black folk are normally less encouraged to take vacations and time off. And even for those of us who have PTO we all know they are counting every second we ain’t in that field. They can act like they want us to put our lives first all they want, we know it’s bullshit. And this article proves it. Of course, I never felt I was the only one experiencing these things in corporate life, but I normally chalk my issues up to being irresponsible or all over the place. (My mother’s anxiety talking.) But this is another one of those things that is just a result of systemic oppression and I have to remember that most of my problems stem from that. So I don’t know the demographic breakdown of the quiet vacationers, but I know my Black folk who work from home know the vibes. And I won’t be ashamed of taking a meeting at the restaurant in the hotel lobby.
Either way, we know the work-life balance trend is just a way to get white moms to feel encouraged to wake up and run a mile in their lululemon with a matcha latte so they can be in the Tuesday standup by 12PM feeling refreshed. But they don’t want us Black folk taking any real time off. I can see it in their eyes the way they wince every time I say I’m taking time off. That’s why I lie. Because I can’t take it. It feels like slavery. Why do I have to tell you I won’t be working from my room? It’s my fucking house. It’s my fucking body. I paid for my flight and my hotel. As long as I grace your ugly computer screen with my beautiful Black face who gives a fuck where I am. And the fact that that even matters is sickening. Why do they need to know? If I made the meeting and did the work, why do you care? This shit is fucking slavery. Free us.
And by the way, I’m speaking for my brothers and sisters that resonate. Not myself. I intentionally exploit this shit. So I don’t care if I’m wrong. I’m speaking for those who really bust they ass for the man and are even gettin it done while on vacation. Shoutout to y’all you deserve better. Me? I’m a menace tho. That’s why the publisher of this let me go. I’ve taken meetings while at another job. We gotta do what we gotta do. Capitalism. Chuch.
Prayer Hotline
This week’s Sunday Service Announcements are brought to you by Freedom. Over the next week challenge yourself to explore ways to experience more freedom in your life. Whether it’s giving yourself the freedom to rest, find balance, prioritize yourself, or ‘quiet-vacationing’.
If you laid all your worries, doubt, and fear down at the altar today, and you are only left with happiness, joy, and peace - how would you live your life? What would you do with the freedom gained from living your life in the way that is most authentic to you?
Sometimes the problem we are trying to pray our way out of is the problem that God put in front of us to break through. I pray for increased patience over us this week to be still to hear when the Spirit is speaking to us. I pray for our peace to keep us calm during the midst of the storm. I pray that we give ourselves grace and compassion this week when things don’t go as planned and that we allow ourselves to pivot into what God has planned for us.
I pray that this week you receive good news and experience miracles taking place in your life. In Jesus name, Amen.
Sunday Service Announcements newsletter is published every Sunday morning during normal church hours. In Southern Black churches, the Paster will refer to the Bible as the word. Meaning the word of the Lord, the word of God. I am referring to the SSA newsletter as the word. The word of our community because we have guest writers within the community participate every week. In addition, to summarize the reference of fellowship each Sunday, we host Community Writing Sessions. In every SSA newsletter, there will be a writers’ corner specifically for Community Writing Sessions. We are concluding that the SSA newsletter is our community Bible, featurely.
Nipsey Hussle has played a major role in my life through his music and how he uplifted his community. Growing up on the East Coast my dream has been to move to California because I’ve always found my inspiration from artists that are from California. Nipsey ignited my passion to be the voice for my community, and his song Dedication has been that pick-me-up song when the journey gets rough. In church we are used to listening to spiritual hymns and for me, Nipsey’s words are spiritual hymns for us on the slave ship (American society) to swim against the waves with (break free from the shackles we live bonded to at times)
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 | A guest post by
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Random but I recall one time when my friend and i had a food fight at the food service in the Church basement and we both got beat by our mothers Lmaoooooo (I didn’t start it but I finished it)
The assignment was understood!!! I love this SSA concept so much. You knew the voice changed but the flow of the letter was seamless.
Several voices syncing into one singular vibe and flow. Drinking in the body of Blackstack and allowing this to fuel my writings for my panel at the Furious Flower Poetry Conference.
Church hats 👒 off to you all