An Owl Named Ona

Plus: Join Us Tonight with Andrea J. Ritchie!

It may seem an odd time to be hopeful, maybe even misguided, as the deluge of unbridled fascist acts compiles. And yet, I found myself optimistic for many reasons and not in a resigned, what else do we have kind of way. No, hope is definitely present. Always. If we look and if we attune ourselves to its presence. If we cultivate it. If, as Mariame Kaba says, we approach it as a discipline and practice.

"To practice active hope, we do not need to believe that everything will work out in the end. We need only decide who we are choosing to be and how we are choosing to function." - Mariame Kaba

Reading Practicing New Worlds (PNW) by Andrea J. Ritchie has invigorated me and deepened my commitment to hope as the world falls down and apart. It feels strange to feel such a sense of buoyancy at such a time as this. But here I am.

Per usual, my copy of PNW is half underlined with at least 50 of those page marker tag things. And I can't wait for our discussion tonight with Andrea J. Ritchie.
(Please register and leave questions you’d like to discuss in the comments!)

I know I will be revisiting many, many passages. For years to come. But this one, this one, is living rent-free in my head.

"Abolition starts with how you talk to yourself." – PG Watkins

Those eight words hit me in the gut. I sat down my book once I read it to let it seep over and through me. It felt like a mantra. An ethos. A discipline. A practice. Like hope.

And sometimes, sometimes, hope just shows up.

Such was the case last week when my colleague and comrade Bret Grote, legal director at the Abolitionist Law Center, ran into my office, pointed up at the window, and said, "Did you see the owl?" And there it was, just sitting in a tree, staring at me.

The owl stayed there all day. I took a picture, and my colleague and comrade Sean took a video, which I texted to everyone I knew and posted on all my social accounts. (To great fanfare here on Substack, where she got over 2,000 views)

Responses echoed my sense of wonder and awe, and I was grateful to offer an opportunity to relish in it. We need as much wonder as we can muster, especially the kind found in nature, especially now.

Many people wondered what it could mean that an owl, owls being nocturnal, was out like that in broad daylight? Was it sent to deliver a message? What could it want to tell me? Was it there to offer a symbol of protection? I did a little searching online and found interesting variations on owls represent across different cultural traditions.

But when considering what seeing an owl in the daytime could mean, what I wondered was if the owl was an ancestor. I thought of my Dad. I had just spent the previous weekend thinking and writing about him a lot while working on the book I'm writing about him, How Daddy Died, Tell the Truth, and Shame the War on Drugs Us. Was the owl really Daddy showing up to encourage me? At many points in my writing process I’ve often seen small signs that I’m sure are him telling me to keep going.

But as the week wore on, and I thought about the owl more and more, I decided that it was definitely an ancestor; it just wasn't Daddy.

The owl, who I've named Ona, is Ona because she was spotted in Philadelphia outside the offices of the Abolitionist Law Center (ALC).

Ona the Owl because I've spent almost two months thinking about Ona Judge and wondering, among other things, why in all the Black History Months I've spent in my lifetime, February 2025 was the first time I'd ever heard about Ona Judge. Not that Black History Month was the only time I could have learned about her. As much as I'd learned during my elementary, middle school, and even high school years about George Washington, most of which turned out to be myths and full-on lies, I'd never heard about Ona Judge, the enslaved woman who "seized her freedom from the President's House in Philadelphia while George and Martha Washington ate dinner."

A sign near the Liberty Bell tells the story of Ona Judge. Independence Historical Park, Philadelphia. Credit: John Kopp/PhillyVoice | Zinn Education Project

"I knew that if I went back to Virginia, I should never get my liberty. I had friends among the colored people of Philadelphia, had my things carried there beforehand, and left Washington's house while they were eating dinner." –Ona Judge

It was no accident that Ona the Owl showed up at ALC, just a few miles from the former President's House in Philadelphia, where Ona Judge decided she would no longer be enslaved and “seized her freedom.” See ALC is a movement lawyering and organizing project that defends human rights and challenges incarceration and other state & structural violence, often employing the law through class action, impact, and accompaniment* litigation to help others "seize their freedom."

Freedom. Ona took hers into her own hands. Then, she spent the rest of her life protecting her declared and embodied freedom from ruthless and relentless attempts by George Washington to capture and re-enslave her.

And yet, with all of his money, influence, and power, Ona remained free until she passed away at the ripe and FREE old age of 75. She used her wits, relationships (community), and determination to "seize her freedom" and STAY free.

And so, in the spirit of Ona Judge, Ona the Owl showed up last week as a symbol of hope, an embodiment of the Black woman who asserted and claimed her own liberation in the face of one of the world's most powerful men and systems. She showed up to remind us, in the face of rising fascism, and the powerful men and systems who want to keep us oppressed that we too, have the power to declare our freedom. Ona's message for me, my comrades at ALC, and indeed, all who fight for our collective freedom is this:

"I wanted to be free. And so must you want and claim your freedom. Continue your march Toward Liberation because you (individually and collectively) will always and always be worth fighting for.” –Ona the Owl

See you tonight!

In solidarity and love,

connease

---

*Accompaniment" signifies a theological and ethical approach emphasizing solidarity with and preferential treatment for the poor, marginalized, and oppressed through a commitment to being present with them in their struggles.