Her Hair Tells A Story

Standing in the bathroom, a place of horrific and shameful abuse.  I am getting another haircut that strips away my femininity.  I’m 11 years old and in the midst of a war that revolves around my hair length.  Much of my childhood has already been stolen. My inner little girl is screaming “Please mom, stop! Don’t…

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What Can I Do?

I turned off the television and stomped my foot and almost growled with agony and anger. I couldn’t help it! I turned around and harshly spoke, “Why hasn’t the church spoken about this? I am so mad! Why isn’t more being said from our pulpits?”

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White Skin Abroad

I never thought much about my whiteness until I mingled in spaces where my white skin stood out like a scar. For five years, I lived in a remote city in China with a total of four foreigners. Attention from strangers was so common that on trips back home to the United States, I felt…

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To My Elders

Four years ago, on a wintery morning, a fierce, truth-telling woman whom I cherish as my elder told me something I have never forgotten: “You can’t know where this story leads. All you can do is look at this moment and do the next right thing.” At the time, we were speaking of a romantic…

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That Brown Boy

News of the shooting of Trayvon Martin broke the day after my husband and I were married. We were catching our flight to the Bahamas while our home-state was becoming embroiled in one of the most controversial cases of racial injustice in recent memory.

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