Going Native

Mercado de Barranquilla. Photo by Maria Grazia Montagnari via Flickr.

“Where you from?” the driver asks in Spanish after a few minutes in the air-conditioned cab. He had picked me up on the corner near my apartment, sweating under the morning sun in my khakis and button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled-up to the elbow. He is running me to the university, but it… Continue reading Going Native

Remembering Selma

Young and politically active in Selma. Photo by Bruce Davidson.

Fifty years ago, in March of 1965, thousands of people protested restrictions on the voting rights of black citizens in Alabama by marching from the town of Selma to the state capital at Montgomery, a distance of 54 miles. State and local police beat marchers unconscious and white militia groups attacked and killed participants, all… Continue reading Remembering Selma

Brothers, Do You Love Yourselves?

The author at age 19.

Fat faggot was what they called me from eighth through twelfth grades. It had been just plain faggot before then. And sissy and sweet thang and Oreo and mutt and sometimes halfbreed and once or twice even cracker. But it was fat faggot that stayed. It stayed after I had graduated high school and lost… Continue reading Brothers, Do You Love Yourselves?

My Fellow Black Americans: It’s Time to Get—and Use—That Passport

Brothers, if you don’t have one already, you need to get yourself a passport. If you do have one, it’s time to use it. As a 37-year-old black man from Florida, I can honestly say that now, more than ever in my lifetime, I am mortally afraid of inadvertently pissing off some over-eager, trigger-happy jackass… Continue reading My Fellow Black Americans: It’s Time to Get—and Use—That Passport