My Mother’s Daughter

My mother was a screamer, a hitter, and a destroyer of things. She taught me the power of language when she wielded her words like weapons that could slice you to the bone and pierce the deepest parts of your soul. The boom of her voice was enough to terrify us, the sharpness of her... Continue Reading →

We Are Failing Black Boys

I keep seeing this argument being made that black boys are being "coddled" and that this is why many of them grow up to struggle as men. What confuses me most about this argument is that it's most often used in conversations about black men who have criminal records, histories of violence, low education and... Continue Reading →

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