For The Love & Liberation of Black Children
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 →
"My mother was the first person to teach me that love looks like violence..." I was awakened to being pulled from my bed by my hair and dragged from my room to the kitchen. I was thrown to the grown and hit in my face repeatedly. I had no idea what was happening or why.... Continue Reading →
