Written by Kimimila Decory, May 2025
Hope a Cactus that stops cutting people, yet I have been taught all my life that hope is a pricked finger from the world’s sharp edges, in which the blood spilled fabricates furious lessons, forcing all of her, me, to remember injustice by the memory of an enclosed fist. The outcome was always irrelevant to me, for the service of a heart unsatisfied is the magic of activism or progressive education. But a simple event, by the intersection of 22nd and 17th street, taught me a desire that is higher, hung above the skin’s blood flow mocked by hope’s valley of inevitable cactuses.
Prior to the event, Resilient Landscapes for Reimagined Futures on March 22nd, me, Jothsna Harris, Julie Marckel, and Julie’s partner, Mark were viewing the landscape of the room in the East Phillips’ Community Center and to set up the exhibit. When we were finished, it was filled with magnificent art, contrasting shapes made by an experienced hand with raw, shaking bright colors done by a girl in youth, the lines that couldn’t fit on the artist’s canvas were walking in invisible strings before me. At first it was an imperceptible occurrence that closed the distance between my heels and my heart, as it seemed like I was finally landing where I should’ve been all along. But, when the people filled the room on the day of the event, to hear climate stories past, present and future, from Lois and Kamille, with their smiles, wrapping their arms in their lap to truly listen, I noticed something unfamiliar: confidence. Typically, justice lands flat, defying the world’s round potential of lasting victory, thus the participants for hope lay low with words begging for more while also having bodies of stone. They had no vision that one day they would actually move. Hope has always been a cruel cactus to me, making people still in place with dry injustice. I’ve never seen confidence. However, the event on March 22nd crowded me with its presence. People here weren’t here to swallow, but to spit out what has been done to the people, the community. They seemed ready the second they walked in, and they moved. They actually reached the exit by talking about the next step, as if it existed.
By the end of the event I was pulled up like a flag, stringed up with a vision that the cactus can shed and open. That it is indeed an inviting seat that’s view is futuristic, but only after negativity is cut from its’ green skin.
About the author: Kimimila Decory is Sicangu Sioux and a highschool student, and intern with Change Narrative.
About this project: Resilient Landscapes for Re-imagined Futures is a year-long pilot project to amplify an Elder and Youth’s narratives and their cross-generational visions of climate justice. In support of the East Phillips “Roof Depot” environmental justice community in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and re-imagined futures. This is an effort to redefine ‘resilient landscape’ and whose voices are included in shaping and reimagining these spaces. Learn more about the ongoing efforts for justice in East Phillips and how to get involved at www.epnifarm.org