The term “pro-life” rose up in 1971 among those who opposed the Roe v. Wade decision which legalized abortion. A decision, to this day, which has caused many within religious and nonreligious circles to ponder upon what it means for a woman to determine the fate of the fetus within her. A decision which has… Continue reading The Irony of Pro-Life
Category: Black Family
Family Reapers (a short story)
I am here to recollect the stories of one family. A family who must face judgment from Death, the decider of its fate. She has an ink-filled scythe, red eyes, and dwells in her sulfur lair, acting swiftly with no remorse. The members of this family live in dungeons; they are in hellholes that hinder their… Continue reading Family Reapers (a short story)
Open Letter From a Mother
Child, there is greatness in your lineage I won’t trace each and every root for you they’re too nappy Lord knows this tree been grown in some shit soil beady with miseducation southern fried and fatty but there was greatness here still is set in North Carolina cotton fields we had no business breaking mason… Continue reading Open Letter From a Mother
A Slave’s Christmas Story
Solomon Northup was a free black man from Minerva, New York who married the love of his life on Christmas Day in 1829. Northup was born in July of 1808 to a freed slave, Mintus, and a “woman of color” (reportedly one-quarter African-American, and three-quarters European) whose name is unknown. He was raised on the… Continue reading A Slave’s Christmas Story
My Kind of Gospel
Yes, I’ll admit it. I was a choir boy. I was the seven-year-old that would have singing lessons with his grandma that wouldn’t end until I either held my notes longer than her, or practiced my scales to her pleasing. Embarrassingly, I wanted to be in the choir for many years, and when I finally… Continue reading My Kind of Gospel
A Letter to My Father
It wasn’t until we stopped speaking that I realized that we haven’t had a real conversation at any point in life. Sure, there have been talks, but they’ve always been one-sided, and I don’t think either of us realized it. Truth is, I’ve been living in your shadow for so long trying to be just… Continue reading A Letter to My Father
Train Up a Child
From an early age, I wanted to be a mother. I never thought too deeply about how I would raise my children or the values I’d instill into them, but I figured when the time came I’d sit down and discuss it with my husband. As I’m closing in on the final months of my… Continue reading Train Up a Child
My Mother and Me
One of the best parts of my adult life is the camaraderie I’ve developed with my mother. It’s a fruitful and engaging friendship filled with jokes, laughs, and playful pokes by the two of us. If a couple of weeks go by without us speaking, my phone will ring and “Mommy” will flash. The minute… Continue reading My Mother and Me
What’s the Real Danger Here?
Imagine a 15-year-old black boy sucking dick on a staircase while his mother thought he was at the library. Or a 15-year-old boy going to Pride to have sexual encounters with random men on the street. Or even a 16-year-old boy scared to go to the supermarket out of fear that he might see the… Continue reading What’s the Real Danger Here?
Love as a String
2014: A conversation with my father I walked with my father to the store in the rain. “So…” my dad said. “I heard that you were gay.” “I am,” I said as I moved from underneath his umbrella. “Well, you know you are going to hell, right?” I paused, getting drenched in the rain. “And who… Continue reading Love as a String