Tag: Blackness
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A lot of people are arguing right now about voting. The same arguments that went on 4 years ago. “Should you vote your conscience, or should you vote for the lesser of two evils?” There’s a lot of shaming, and coercing, and weaponizing people’s statements to get people to vote for the candidate they deem…
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If you stick a knife in my back nine inches and pull it out six inches, there’s no progress. If you pull it all the way out that’s not progress. Progress is healing the wound that the blow made. And they haven’t even pulled the knife out much less heal the wound. They won’t even…
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As you scan the rows and aisles,through a sea ofmostly white faces,your eyes brighten up. You spot a brother. And as you lock eyes with him,you instantly feel what youcan only describe askinship.You both give the nod,and smile.This semester, you won’t bethe only black boyin the room.
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Hip-hop can do without the egotistical Eminem clones who feel they need to “liberate” Black culture from the clutches of Auto-tune
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Some brief, barely-edited thoughts about something I’ve been thinking about. So Harlem rapper A$AP Rocky was recently detained in Sweden for over a week now after a fight he was involved in in Stockholm. Fellow rappers like Tyler the Creator, Jaden Smith, SchoolBoy Q, and many other celebrities have shown support for Rocky and have…
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“There was something about hearing those lyrics recently that really hit home for me in a way they hadn’t previously.”
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I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I care about the feelings of other people and try to be in tune with their sensitivities. I’m sorry that I prioritize not offending people because I care about how receptive they are to what I’m saying. I’m sorry that I try to choose my words carefully because I’m concerned…
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“Do not ever erase those identifiers that are held in you…it was given to you at birth and it is yours to own.” —Uzoamaka Aduba I have a European first name and a Nigerian middle and last name. For most of my adolescence I dreaded telling people my middle name It’s not even that my…
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I was walking out of Walmart after some grocery shopping. As I was putting groceries in the trunk, I saw a man walk up to the front of my car. He was a middle-aged Black man. He walked with a cane in one hand, and held a small towel in the other.
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[This story is adapted from an essay I wrote back in August 2016. It was written a month after the shootings of Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and five police officers in Dallas. This narrative is about a real conversation with a friend. For discretionary purposes, I won’t use her real name.]
