Tag Archives : race

i love myself when i am laughing…


Today I learned that Zora Neale Hurston wrote Their Eyes Were Watching God in seven weeks, garnered critical attention, and died alone in a welfare home. Alice Walker some decades later deemed herself Hurston’s niece so she could buy her a tombstone, a luxury she could not afford at the time of her death. I learned that Richard Wright hated…

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a summary.


this post was inspired by solange’s 30th birthday instagram post.  at two years old, i stopped breathing and was rushed to the er. at four, my lungs learned how to function. i stuck a lego piece in my ear and got sent back to the er. at five, i wore a poofy pink dress for my party and took one…

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For The Imperfect Black Girls.


Recently I’ve been on this kick. This downward spiral, self-loathing, pick myself up again with Maya Angelou quotes and basil on my windowsill kick. This lack of water, skin breakout, healing myself and killing my wallet with skincare products kick. This telling everyone I know “yo this has been the hardest year of my life” kick. This PTSD and depression…

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Confess.


I confess that I have a penchant for denial and a knack for self-sabotage. I blame my mother. Let me explain. My mother has always classified herself as paranoid, to which I have co-signed the title. Outside of any psychological diagnosis (because we’re Sierra Leonean and don’t do that shit, right?) I always could feel the tension my mother had…

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Black Woman Gone Bougie & Other Grad School Fears


My grad school acceptance felt like a fairytale. I imagined myself as a little girl, a Black braided Rapunzel in reverse, looking upon that big white tower in front of me with wide eyes and ambition. I see myself tossing my braids to the highest window of the tower, pulling myself up, right foot over left, with fervor. I trek,…

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Baby Hairs & Black Girl Magic.


What always mystifies me about Beyonce is her ability to ruin the lives of the same Black women she puts on for in her music and videos. Immediately after the release of her latest song “Formation”, I played the song on repeat for the next hour, screaming expletives at my computer screen and reaching for what was left of my…

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When Growth Feels A Lot Like A Hot Mess: Adieu, 2015.


Growing up, I could always count on three things: 1. Rice and some sort of stew would faithfully be in my family’s refrigerator 2. Mr. Randolph’s locs would be swaying along to the piano’s beat every Friday during school mass and 3. My mom would cry as the ball dropped on New Year’s. She always swore they were tears of…

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Posts From The Crypt: A Read For Rachel Dolezal


Believe it or not, I’m actually a Black woman. Wide-lipped, broad-nosed, kinky-haired, chocolate-skinned Black. Followed around department stores once or twice Black. “Mhm sista girl” when white women wanna relate Black. Always capitalize the B in Black, baby, Black. Rachel Dolezal, who bestowed herself with the title of Black woman ten years ago, is not. I’m not wasting my energy…

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Throwback Thursday: The Paling of the District


During my summer break of sophomore year, I received strange looks in my neighborhood for the first time. The same neighborhood that I would ride my bike around on hot summer afternoons and walk my little brother home from kindergarten in, past the always packed McDonald’s and the elderly man sitting on the apartment stoop who was always around like…

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Diversity & Other Lies Told By My University – Ferguson Edition


One hour ago, I gathered with friends to stand in solidarity. We stood strong, chanting “Hands up, don’t shoot; Black lives matter!” in the Quad circle, first in a small group of about ten people, later growing to twenty people standing in solidarity with us.Tonight, I got a taste of Rutgers Diversity at its finest. The Rutgers Diversity that shines…

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