thandiwe Dee Watts‑Jones – Healing, Social Justice, Transformation

The beat that drums throughout my work as a writer, psychologist, family therapist, and teacher is passion in the service of healing and liberation. It is my dance.

RECENT BLOG POSTS

Post-election Gratitude and Wonder: Part II

Wonder has its own beauty, an openness, a curiosity, a questioning. A freedom of mind, body and spirit to roam, to imagine, without force on either side of its coming and going in my life over recent months…

Post-Election Gratitude and Wonder: Part I.

More than a month has lumbered by since the majority of the country (not as large as I thought) handed the nation over to another round with their chosen one, their spoken…

Wicked: Scrambling the Paradigm of Evil vs Good, Part I

A couple of weekends ago, I went to see Wicked, along with my daughter and her nearly nine year-old son. The play is in its 20th year and had been on my 'go see list' for some time, because…

BIO

thandiwe Dee Watts-Jones

Psychologist-Family Therapist | Social Justice Advocate | Writer

thandiwe in PUBLICATIONS

In the months after my mom died, an urge mushroomed inside me. I needed to go back to the begining, to where my ancestors last stood on their land, before the Maafa, the Great Disaster, otherwise known as the Middle Passage. That urge took me to Elmina Castle in Ghana, and forever marred the term castle.

My 85 year old mother, a widow, lived alone in Atlanta, her birth town turned mega city. Increasingly, with every visit I made, the dining and kitchen tables, the floor under the kitchen table and the counters were being swallowed in stacks of paper and folded plastic. I didn't know then, but these were signs of dementia. A reader of the essay, a doctor, wrote in to the NY Times to say this. He was right.