Therapy is the supportive process of accompanying one’s journey of transcendence from darkness to light to darkness again, ultimately landing somewhere in…
As Bill Withers plays in the background about grandma’s hands, I look down at my own. I have my grandmother’s hands. They…
Trina, I need you to stay inside for recess today. You are a little Black girl in a world that’s White. You…
It’s a typical spring morning – a slight chill, cloud cover, and the threat of rain. I can hear through my open…
As a kid, I remember the subject of race coming up twice in our family. The first time was when my brother…
“You real fine and you pretty,” the smooth words rolled past his toothpaste commercial level white teeth and thick coffee bean shade…
I need to remind myself that Mama is human, that she is not endless love, and food, and sacrifice. But she makes…
I was ten years old when I first witnessed domestic violence. It was a hot summer day on Hobart street. Children were…
“If I didn’t define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive.” — Audre…
“Have you considered writing a book about your life?” It is likely someone has asked you this question, or maybe you have…
Today is our long day. We need to drive nearly 200 miles to cross state lines. Mom and I take shifts, plying…
“I’m sorry for your loss. Though the coroner’s report said your father departed on June 29th, July 1 (2005) will be the…
When I was surrounded by white people, knee-length plaid skirts, and crucifixes, I told my mom I wanted my hair to look…
Quickly and carefully, I crossed the street with my best friend at the time. Her name was Jalia, a tall and skinny…
My mother’s eyes are bulging, glassy and wild, almost spinning in their sockets with fear. Her cracked lips are pulled back from…
I watched from my seat in the sparsely populated bleachers as the swimmers began to assemble for the first race. Underlying the…