Warning: This Will Offend You! Contains Feminist Material.

I don’t know how to describe in words the thoughts in my head and feelings that run through my body on a daily basis to wake up in the world being a woman. It’s not easily encapsulated into a phrase to capture the multifaceted fragments that make up my whole. While my blackness presents a

Selfishness of Grief

I read my first eulogy at a funeral at the age of six up on the podium of a Pentecostal Church while echoes of wailing resonated off the walls and glass stained windows. I understood then what death meant. My great-grandmother was never coming back and my family was filled with  pain. She was old

We Shall Overcome…. Someday

​”One hundred years later, the Negro is still languished in the corners of American society and finds himself in exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize an shameful condition. In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s Capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote

Unmasked

I recently read an article that questioned how well do we really know our loved ones. It spoke about how in so many cases it isn’t until after those close to us have passed away that we wish we had asked certain questions. The article challenged to have more open communication with family members, parents

Racial Trauma when Lives Should Matter

​In 1948 the United Nations adopted and proclaimed the Universal Declaration of Human Rights which guaranteed all people and all nations with certain inalienable rights. Article One, which is titled the Right to Equality, declares, “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and

UN-PTSD

The trauma of being Black is not Post Stress Since it happens daily, weekly, in untold moments As I open my eyes and the sun’s rays alight upon The melanin that coats my skin As I glimpse visions of myself in mirrors and reflective surfaces  Whenever the eyes of a stranger meets mine And skitters

It’s a tricky thing This thing called life We live with barely any concept of living Yet fear the end without knowing when it will be ending It’s a tricky thing what we put ourselves through After being brought into this unknowingly Living for every day Yet dreaming of tomorrows But holding on to yesteryears