As much affection as people have for strong black women, the strongest among us need places where we can take down the full armor of God, where we can be seen without being ogled, mistaken for famous black women we look nothing like (I am not Tracy Chapman!) where we can laugh and build community inside a context that doesn’t demand — with snark, with a smile — our silence on the things that make us weary, weak and vulnerable.
Anyway, noting the lack of…flavor, shall we say, DopeReads put together its own list of what famous authors were doing before they were writing! Peep game.
As you listen to Sarah Collins Rudolph talk about her survival of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama, you almost feel like you’re being offered a glimpse into the making of an out-and-out horror story. One minute, she was a 12 year-old girl in her church’s ladies’ lounge watching her 14 year-old sister Read More
Last Saturday I left my home in bumblef*ck Virginia to participate in the March on Washington Anniversary festivities in DC. I didn’t really know what to expect, outside of there being lots and lots of my people out in the streets, marching for justice and jobs and other important social issues. And while I knew Read More
To many New Yorkers, their communities aren’t being served and protected by thier police force – their communities are being occupied by them.
Dead weight seems to hang in the air as we wait for the verdict in the trial of George Zimmerman. My fears and hopes feel hinged on each shallow exhale as I sit at the kitchen table, sifting through articles, nibbling oatmeal, talking heads muted. Like many people I know, I’ve been angry. The murder Read More
Quite a start to the week: Ladies Love Cool James, Rozay and Fat Joe. Sincere didn’t go to #thecountryofAfrica for us to suffer through Mondays like that one.
This makes about as much sense to me as standing outside with a sign that says “You Can Slap My Ass” in order to spark a conversation about street harassment.
Brad Paisley was kind enough to pen a tribute to my childhood. I’d like to think that I’m the man who works “in the Starbucks down on Main.” Or rather: I’m the kid who shudders a bit and starts biting his nails upon walking into an auto parts store far flung from the interstate, finding Read More
Why is the PB fam all over up in your iTunes and your Stitcher, though?