The Practices we Make (an Interview Series)

At House of the Lorde, practice is not about breeding perfection.

Practice is about showing up, no matter how it looks.

The Practices We Make is a new interview series that honors those who tend to their practice inside our sanctuary. We begin with our co-founder Jenn Freeman | Po'Chop, whose practice is the very ground from which House of the Lorde emerged.

How do you introduce yourself these days?

We like to say that we are two.

Our momma named us

Jennifer Nicole Harris Dailey

But we believe in naming and claiming yourself.

We are two.

Jenn Freeman and Po’Chop.

You can call us Jenn or Po,

whichever feels right for you.

Complete this sentence. My practice is rooted in…

Disruption.

My practice is burlesque and drag. A re-imagining of Lord as Lorde. A dispelling of what we've been taught to believe is holy, beautiful, and sacred.

My practice is rest, study, and research. It meme culture. parody and satire. It is long hours of reading. Moving. Listening.

It is dingy cabaret spaces. Dive bars. Storefront churches. Black box theaters and Gallery spaces. My practice is world building.

Who are the lineages, teachers, or communities that live in your practice?

My momma, my aunties, and my grannies. Black women who have labored and turned nothing into beauty.

Gerri Ann Simmons, my first dance teacher.

Missouri’s Bootheel. Country Black folk who know about dusty dirt roads, yellow skies, straddling the mouth of the Mississippi, fish fries, blasting blues music, and drinking cheap pilsners.

I am talking uncles with jheri curls and coordinating suits that matched their cars. Rural and resourceful folk. People who turn language into their own.

Why House of the Lorde?

There were many paths that led me to building House of the Lorde. My art practice. My spiritual life. My deepening relationship to Black feminist thought.

I was craving a space where movement and art, spirit and Black feminism were not separate worlds but a shared meeting ground.

I wanted a space that offered study in a casual, accessible way. A place where folks could engage with the pivotal voices. June Jordan. Audre Lorde. Toni Morrison. Toni Cade Bambara.

I wanted a space where people could ask questions. Read collectively. Dance. Draw. Dream. Rest. Be held in community.

House of the Lorde is that space.

What does Black feminist practice mean to you?

Black feminist practice allows every part of myself to be present. Black feminism insists that the most vulnerable among us are held and equipped to live a full life. And in that very act of ensuring that Black, brown, disabled, and queer folk are resourced, freedom and wellness extend to all. No one is left behind.

Black feminism requires me to lead with my erotic knowing.

How are you tending to yourself in this season?

This feels like a time for hibernation and slowing down. A time for sipping bone broth, eating hearty stew. A time for retreating into the expansiveness of darkness to fortify the mind, body, and spirit.

This season feels rich with opportunities to go inward. To rest. To reflect. To gather myself again.

Any final thoughts on practice?

Building House of the Lorde and tending to it daily is one of the most demanding and beautiful parts of my practice. I am grateful to be its steward and I hold the responsibility of sustaining it with care. This place keeps reminding me that my practice is not a solitary act. It belongs to a collective. My hope is that House of the Lorde continues to open portals for how we connect, learn, move, and dream alongside one another.