"Grandma, I love how he talks about God, and I believe in God, but I don't want to be a Christian," I said. Her sanguine expression turned into indignation.
One of my dearest friends reached out to me recently with a question that was so out of the blue and heartfelt, I was compelled to respond immediately.
My mother and father grew up in segregation. Mickey and Miami have fooled people into thinking otherwise, but Florida is and always was a Southern state.
To celebrate the launch of the publication, Abernathy partnered with Lessons Learned to host an intimate, private launch event in New York City.
I finally saw Selma. I sat there and watched Martin and The Gang change history by helping those dusty ass, old timey White people get their minds right.
Violence against black bodies. Police Brutality. The criminalization of the poor. All incarnations of structural violence that know no national boundary.
“Where you from?” the driver asks in Spanish after a few minutes in the cab. But it isn’t my appearance that tips him off to my foreignness.
Fifty years ago, in March of 1965, thousands of people protested restrictions on black voting rights in Alabama by marching from Selma to Montgomery.
Police brutality cases have renewed discussions about race relations. In opposition to the conversation, people ask: but what about black-on-black crime?