A quiet, queer reclamation of nature

Responding to black queer nature poem for khadijah (and all of us) by Mae Diansangu

‘Your heart survived its passage to the surface,’ is at once a tribute to the unsinkable resilience of queer love and a note of how radical moments triumph over systems that position us beneath the freedom of breath. Between a pandemic, the recent IPCC report, and the ongoing disruptive violence of police brutality, outside has never felt so far beneath peace. Filmed, performed and edited by Mae Diansangu, black queer nature poem for khadijah (and all of us) was so sweet in its soft reclamation of what outside means, however, that it made me cry. The three-minute short is woven with a gently strummed ukulele, philosophical stanzas, and nostalgic shots of Khadijah in a black hijab unassumingly reclaiming her surroundings through exploration. The result is a love letter to the transformative power of Black queerness, in our ability to bring about change as naturally as the progression of the seasons.

black queer nature poem opens up in layers. The first is the single line spoken about the triumphant heart surviving its passage, and interestingly this is the only line spoken clearly before we are submerged in disorientating layering of several spoken lines from different stanzas of the poem, all overlapping over each other. Visual snippets mirror the jumbled audio as clips of Khadijah, standing in nature and brushing her hand over foliage, are disrupted by jarring frames that skip and cut with the distortion. The confusion of this audio-visual presentation finds a clearing with a dark black screen and a single line: your power, which subtly marks the undercurrent theme that will run through the next three minutes; the natural power inherent within black queer existence.

The poem finally arrives in a wash of birdsong and the sweet strumming of melancholic major sevenths from a ukulele. The sentimental four chord sequence provides a mirror to Mae’s sentimental lyrics that are sung as the opening lines of the poem:

Your heart survived its passage to the surface of the earth
A four chambered meteorite
That found its way home
You are grown from water
That’s why you dream rivers

Ethereal lyrics layer over carefree images of Khadijah, smiling outside in forests, carefully clambering deep green rocks, and laughing playfully as she dances the dolphin. 

Watching a smiling Khadijah frolic in forests in a black My Chemical Romance t-shirt and blue jeans, as she shuffles through trees and shrugs her shoulders, made me consider the ease with which we are used to moving outside. So much of this movement has become tinged with alertness and survival by virtue of navigating space, while Blackness and queerness imprint the outside for many of us as a place to be survived in and navigated alertly. I’ve never seen myself as a nature gal, because of the hyper-visibility and silent negotiation that comes with being outside. The lack of control and unwelcome gazes that I have come to expect from outdoor spaces have made me see home as characterised by four walls. Khadijah’s smiles amidst some trees and the softness of the film unravels these preconceptions with a disarmingly beautiful ease that is both vulnerable and quietly powerful in its reclamation. 

A crucial element explored within the film is the challenging of not only space, but also of definitions that either conflate queerness with abnormality or over-exaggerate Blackness with nature via images of savagery and primality. Full shots that circle and centre Khadijah within the camera’s framing show us how a natural state can powerfully deconstruct the dimensions that keep us apart from the pleasures of existing outside. 

black queer nature poem is a love poem for the reclamation of narratives surrounding Black queerness but also its inherent power. The repetition of the line respond/adapt/survive/thrive emphasises this, and through the sweetly sung lines of this poem, we find a dedication to the transformative ability we contain within us. black queer nature poem then becomes a rallying cry about the force of resistance inherent in our nature and the autonomy that comes with reclaiming it. At a time where despair and cynicism looms both structurally and individually for Black people, respond/adapt/survive/thrive becomes a buckling call to action.

Diansangu’s film is a beautiful affirmation of not just our natural existence, but of the power and ease of our resilience and our resistance to cynicism, despair and doubt. It is a reminder that we contain within us the ability to reclaim, shift and exist within nature and our environments, and that we can destroy the gazes and definitions that purport to limit our autonomy within them. As the film finishes, the digital distortions are brought back on screen, their interruptions are a reminder of our current positionality. Although outside remains disrupted and jarring in many ways, Diansangu’s gentle singing is the final note that lingered with me after the film ended. Its transcendence of the fragmented imagery provides a lasting symbolism; there lies a powerful hope in the peaceful reclamations of our worlds.