To Writeis to realize!
Revisit
again and again
Reimagine...
and Remember.
Journals
Walk with us as we open our doors. Turn the keys. How did each of us come to be? Who are we and why?
- Read our stories.
- Share your own.
- It is never too late to learn from our past, to better understand the present, and to build the finest of futures.
Sick, Tired, and Hopeless: Accepting the Racial Realities of Being Black in America
I can no longer witness the senseless murder of people of color by the police without breaking down in tears. The recently released video that captured 50-year-old Walter Scott being shot in his back eight times as he attempted to run away from white police officer [...]
When Gelato Gets Racial or a Little Girl Hears the N-Word for the First Time
As the wheels continue to fly off my personal life, moments of simple joy and normalcy are increasingly hard to come by. My son’s unexpected visit home this week promised to be an opportunity to simply be present with family and savor the simple joys of [...]
My Intersectional Life
I am a New Yorker. Ever since 9-11, I have felt like I have an X on my back. This feeling does not replace the vulnerability I feel as a Black woman in the United States. It increases it. It grows my unease, my dis-ease. [...]
Hey Mama
Hey Mama, I’m feeling alone this morning. I miss Mississippi. I miss you. How you feeling? Hey Kie, I’m tired. I’m wearing the pearl bracelet that you gave me. It is so beautiful. This morning I managed to get it locked alone. Did [...]
Your Race, Your Pace
My friend hurled those words out, mid-rant, on the ride home from a very poorly planned fund raiser. We had purchased tickets in support of a scholarship fund for high-school seniors who had “overcome life-changing obstacles to achieve academic success.” As doctoral students who had [...]
A Letter to My Son Jacob on his 5th Birthday
It was a frigid New England February day, much like this one, when we were first introduced. Of course, I imagined that I knew something about you beforehand, by the way you moved and kicked and somersaulted in my belly — by your satisfied silences and painful [...]
“Nigger”
I was four years old the first time that I was called nigger. It was my first day at Athens Preschool Academy. APA — who feels like writing Athens Preschool Academy over and over again — was — is I think — located on the Atlanta Highway in my hometown. It had a [...]
Resurrecting the Nightmarish History of Lynching in Mississippi
There is a Mississippi that we remember and the one in which we live. Beginning today these might differ. Judge Carlton Reeves recounts our history and declares there is A New Mississippi. For as long as most of us can [...]