There's about half an hour left of Black History Month as I type this, and I am determined to cling to each minute left, use it. I feel like I've been slightly MIA this month--a respite from writing, a sabbatical from marching, moments in shadowed corners away from the fray, where I hear my breath … Continue reading every black drop
I'm tired of seeing the suffering black body. The TV screen blinks off, taking with it the image of yet another poor African child staring at me with wide, hollowed eyes. The melancholic instrumental in the background fades, and I am left counting how many infomercials, news stories, and movie trailers I'd seen that week … Continue reading the flesh to my bones
where do i find veins like rivers to carry me to the ocean where i am indigenous for i belong in no one place what do I call my own? I finally took the time to watch Beyonce's "Lemonade" this morning. I was afraid to at first because I'd heard so much praise from other … Continue reading location
