When I think of Dr. Mae Jemison, the image in my mind is of a smiling young Black woman in an orange astronaut suit, possibly wearing or holding the kind of helmet that astronauts wear when they embark upon a spacewalk. The image in my mind is static, unmoving. It’s lovely and placid.
We are just a few short weeks into 2022, and collectively many of us are mourning the passing of America’s last Golden Girl, a trailblazing fashion icon, and a remarkable actor who to me embodied poise and gravitas. Grief to me is such a strange, intensely personal thing. When famous folks die and I find…
In the November 24 episode, I sit down for a frank conversation about Reconstruction with a historian, my friend Dr. Meredith May. With the insurrection from January still making news as various participants face trials, and with Thanksgiving upon us with its complicated history, this is a timely conversation. How, after all, can we make…
And just like Beloved re-entered Sethe’s life when Paul D. brought Sethe’s past with him to Sethe’s doorstep, every time Black Americans see an act of race-based violence in the news, our own ancestral ghosts appear.
When you think of the terror that has been inflicted on the black church in this country time and again, how do you imagine you might feel if the black church was that first place of faith for you? Would you feel safe to worship in the space where you truly felt at home?
Whether we assimilate completely to the dominant culture’s ideals, religion, even monetizing white-centric punditry into a career, or we focus our efforts on honing our talent to become excellent and give back to build up our community – we cannot escape this caste.
Over all this, I knew of course that black people – even children – could not truly be free around white people without being punished.