On Bill Cosby, Victim Blaming, and What it Means to be a Rape Survivor

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2016-11-29T17:39:12+00:00

Fourteen years ago, I was raped. It was late fall 2001. I was in the first semester of my 9th grade year in high school. I was14 years old. My parents had just gotten divorced, and I’d recently transferred to a new school district for a [...]

Stay Black and Die: Reckoning with America’s Racism as a Biracial Black Woman

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2016-11-29T17:39:12+00:00

I was a difficult child. In response to my resistance, my mother would often adamantly exclaim, “Well, the only thing you have to do is stay black and die!” I would retort back, “No I don’t!” I understand now that there’s no avoiding either. They’ve now [...]

The Soapbox: When Black Children Aren’t Welcome In White Spaces

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2016-11-29T17:39:12+00:00

Many a Black child has that moment when they learn that certain White spaces are off limits to them. That not only are such spaces unwelcoming, but they can possibly be dangerous. The Black teenagers who attempted to attend a pool party on the White side [...]

I Will Not Be That Black Person You Need Me To Be

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2016-11-29T17:39:13+00:00

We are in the midst of another cycle of oppression boiling over into the streets. In Baltimore, protests have erupted over the death of Freddie Gray who died a week after being arrested by police and suffering a broken spine. Protesters took to the streets [...]

When Talking About Race Upsets Your White Mother

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2016-11-29T17:39:13+00:00

My mom has the cheery demeanor, moral sensibilities and lingo of a Leave It To Beaver episode. “Don’t be such a sourpuss,” she scolds. “Have you ever smoked a doobie?” she inquires. “Oh, that is just terrific!” she exclaims. My mom is what I’d like [...]

My Name is Carrie, and I Medicate My Son

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2016-11-29T17:39:13+00:00

My 10-year-old son has autism. And we give him anti-anxiety medicine every day. If someone had told me fifteen years ago — back when I was a smart, chic, kind of fit twenty-something newlywed — that my new husband Joe and I would one day give our child a [...]

My Friend Died in a Police Van. That Could Have Been Me – if I were Black

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2016-11-29T17:39:13+00:00

My friend Hanuman was cremated two weeks ago, his ashes now sit in a wooden box on his parent’s alter. The cause of his death is still being investigated, but we know he died shackled to a bench in the back of a prison van. [...]