Why BHM Is Still Relevant

My daughter is four. Just yesterday, we were calculating the number of states she's visited and how it pales in comparison to the number of countries she's traveled.  Being an expat kid afforded her opportunities and exposure most kids her age never experience, especially most black American kids.  She is,…

2015, The Reflection

So many thoughts as  I reflect on 2015. It was a time of heartbreak for me and many very dear to me. This year took a friend's son, paralyzed another, a friend's brother, my last two grandparents, and a friend from her son in the most painful way. [caption id="attachment_1288"…

Fuck You and Your Simple Ass

Guest Blogger  All ya'll simple, handkerchief head, funky-breath, sell-out, booty clinchin', holes of ass that think the girl being flung like a dingy wife beater at a pick up game was deserving can suck loose shit from a straw and die! We got rebel flag waving, third-grade level reading, squinty-eyed, slimy…

Ticking Clock

The end is near, and I'm not ready. April 30th marks my husband's last day working for the company. We have one month afterwards to leave before the police come knocking. Singapore does not allow foreigners to just live here without a commercial purpose that benefits the country in some way. Basically,…

Freedom Papers

The Beginning of the End  January marked nine years that my husband has worked for the same company.  I think he got a watch or something. Nine is his favorite number; his number of completion. He called it a sign, a confirmation. For the past few years, he's contemplated walking…

Part I: The Holy Argument

[wpvideo 53OmkuN8] (In this article, I'm addressing  those who care about the plight of black people and humanity in general. I have no interest in entertaining or trying to enlighten the weight of bigotry and ignorance at perilous times such as this.) "Where is the outcry when black people kill…

Have a Seat at My Table

There are two older women cooking in my kitchen, and neither is my mother, grandmother, or close aunt. Considering the fact that for many southern American women such as myself, the kitchen is a sacred place where traditions are continued, future generations are pruned, and recipes are kept in furtive…