Home

My maternal great-grandmother Adelia Frances Moran has been described to me as someone who nourished everyone around her. Church family, neighbors, and friends were always stopping by. She and her husband, my great-grandad John Fee Moran, served their community of Berea, Kentucky for decades, helping Black students to press on in their pursuit of an education. My great-grandparents grew up in a time when interracial education was illegal. The 1904 Day Law and Plessy vs Ferguson kept many Black children from having access to earn an education beyond the 8th grade. It was not until the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 1954 – the landmark Brown v. Board of Education case – that racial segregation in schools was overturned. My great-grandparents valued education and humbly opened their hearts and homes to support education in the Black community as opportunities opened up at Berea College. Students came to them and were fed body and soul. The students came to them and found home. 


Home

Written by: Adelia Davis 

My great-grandmommy was where we found home 

Curling up in my bed listening to stories about her powerful hands 

Hands that fed food that made your every cell smile 

Her hands were always busy

Growing what she served

Directing little hands too

A clean house welcomed many in 

Young, Black college students 

Faced taller fears than those rolling Bluegrass hills 

In the shadow of segregation laws

But in my great-grandmommy’s hands 

They found family.


My great-grandmommy was where we found home

Her voice the gentle spring sun on budding petunias 

Never judging folks for being human 

Even when cities went up in flames 

And people turned to runnin’ off with what wasn’t theirs 

Compassion lined her every word 

Her voice was used to share wisdom 

Echoing God’s Love 

And always singing praises. 


My great-grandmommy is where I find home 

Her name reaches down generations 

Giving me meaning 

“Daughter of God” 

Her roots have steadied my branches

Reaching up to the sun she always showed

She embraced wonder and curiosity 

Her grandchildren could run to her with big questions:

“Why are people different colors?”

“We’re different colors like the flowers in the garden, reflecting God’s creativity. We are His garden, baby.” 


Now, it’s my turn

to nourish

to listen 

to hold and carry 

to love on 

making a home for our people.

Previous
Previous

Lyrics, Literacy, and Community

Next
Next

Advocate for Health and Author of Her Own Story