Moving with the Spirit of a Hummingbird: An Open Letter from YWCA Madison’s Executive Director
Beloved Community,
This week, I’ll be traveling to Phoenix, Arizona, to gather with executive directors from our sibling YWCA associations across the country. As I prepare for this national convening, I want to pause and share a story that has stayed with me from a recent journey to the City of Gods—Teotihuacan, in Mexico. It is a story passed on to me by an elder I met there named Toñita.
There was once a time when Coatlicue, the Earth Goddess, was tasked with sweeping, a sacred duty requiring complete devotion and no distraction. She committed herself wholly to this work until one day, the most radiant blue hummingbird appeared. At first, she resisted the pull of its beauty, but soon, she couldn’t help but admire its brilliance. She lifted her gaze and met the hummingbird’s eyes. Before flying away, the hummingbird left behind a few shimmering blue feathers. Coatlicue picked them up, pressing them to her heart, and cherished the moment of connection.
In time, Coatlicue discovered she was pregnant. But this was also a time of deep danger, as many forces conspired to destroy the world she was creating. Believing she would be most vulnerable during labor, evil deities and beings waited to strike. To their surprise, she did not give birth to a baby. Instead, she birthed a fully grown warrior, adorned with magnificent blue wings and armed with the serpent of fire, a divine weapon that made them invincible. Since then, Coatlicue’s newborn, Huitzilopotchli, cuts through the darkness and protects the world Coatlicue had so lovingly begun to build, with every rising sun.
In the midst of the fear and uncertainty we face—at YWCA Madison, across our YWCA network, and throughout society—the story of Coatlicue resonates deeply. What becomes possible when we allow ourselves to see the possibilities beyond the immediate tasks in front of us? What if our greatest power is born in our most fragile moments? What if we already hold everything we need to defend and nurture the world we dream of?
The hummingbird, in many traditions, symbolizes communication between dimensions—carrying messages across past, present, and future. What if we approached this present moment as a dialogue with what has come before and what lies ahead of us? What becomes possible when we tend to all aspects of our existence—ourselves, our relationships, our communities, our systems, and our cultures?
At a time when we are facing widespread, concerted attacks on our mission to eliminate racism and empower women, organizations like YWCA Madison have been called to respond. Over the past few weeks, I’ve convened with our beloved board and staff community, and I believe we are prepared to face this moment. We are armed not with fear, but with the serpent of fire that lives in our mindsets, practices, and tools. I believe that in moments where fear tries to shrink us, new power can be born—again and again—to sustain and steward who we are and what we are building for future generations.
As Valarie Kaur, whom I have the honor of introducing in Phoenix, asks us: “What if this darkness is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb? What if our America is not dead but a country still waiting to be born? What if the story of America is one long labor?”
Friends, as I head into this national gathering of YWCA executive directors, know that I carry you with me. I am committed not only to building the strategies we need but also to deepening the relationships that will sustain our movement for collective liberation. I am committed to living into the metaphor of the hummingbird, which carries messages of joy, defiance, and love that we have begun cultivating here at YWCA Madison and sharing these gifts into the national context.
Con dignidad y fortaleza, vamos pa’delante!
(With dignity and strength, let’s go forward!)
