Aggressive banging on the front door woke me from my slumbers. I worked at a music venue which kept me up until the wee hours of the morning. 8 a.m. isn’t terribly early. But I’d only been asleep four hours. Pulling myself out of bed, I felt an unsettling anxiety. I cracked open the door to peer at this early morning intruder. It was an officer of the law.
He spoke my name in a questioning manner. I timidly replied, “yes?”
“Are you aware that there’s a warrant out for your arrest?”
Imagine living in a world where Shirley Chisholm won the 1972 presidential election. Imagine the United States having reached the degree of enlightenment needed to elect a black woman to the highest office in our nation nearly fifty years ago. Where would we be now?
This is a game I like to play.
I was eleven years old in 1972. The news hour had been a family tradition since I was small. Every evening as my father would come home from a day of teaching public school, he’d recline on the couch, and watch the news while mom prepared supper…
This Valentine’s Day, I wish for all women in abusive relationships to find the courage to be happy.
This seems like a pale sentiment, bereft of substance. But women living with an abusive man understand my meaning perfectly. I am speaking to all of you. My goal is to encourage you to make the brave decision to leave and to take the necessary steps to do so. If I could do it, so can you.
The first time exhusbandguy exhibited violence, he punched his fist through a window. The next time, he grabbed me by my jacket, slinging his arms…
The holidays have become increasingly challenging for me. Over the years, the traditional celebrations have become less meaningful. Why, for example, must I set aside a single day for gratitude when it has become a daily practice for myself? Why must I continue to deny the fact that the original Thanksgiving celebrations occurred immediately after entire Native American villages and their inhabitants were annihilated? How do I, in good conscience, enjoy the excess of food lovingly prepared when my home state has the 4th highest hunger rate in the nation? It makes no sense to me. Yet every year, I…
It’s 2:43 a.m. as I type this. Bleary-eyed and gut-clenched. The memory of this time seven years ago keeps me awake.
At this time seven years ago, my friend Sarah had been to a bar with her husband. Joe was bartending that night. Joe told me that Sarah’s husband didn’t like him. Joe adored Sarah but ever since she’d married this guy, he was not able to joke with her as he used to. This guy that Sarah married developed a dark cloud over him pretty quickly whenever Joe and Sarah laughed together. Or whenever Sarah and anyone laughed together.
America was destroyed by Reader’s Digest Condensed Books.
Ok, I realize that was an inflammatory remark. And while it may be untrue, I invite you to consider the following:
In 1950, the general interest magazine Reader’s Digest began publishing collections of best-selling novels and non-fiction, abridged by Reader’s Digest specifically for these collections. These were the Reader’s Digest Condensed Books and they contained from three to six books in a single volume. They were published seasonally and were distributed via subscription.
People chose to read partial books.
When I ponder the notion of abridged books, I wonder about the parts…
Last night, I found myself surrounded by elderly white folks in a Baptist Church in Lewisville, North Carolina. I was terrified.
Elderly people are difficult to look at. They are not attractive in the conventional definition of attractive. But also, they remind us that everything is temporary. And that we, too, are heading in their direction. We too, will one day possess a shriveled-up body that functions less efficiently than it used to.
It is easy to become impatient with the elderly. They move so slowly. It requires great effort for them to simply get from point A to point…
Artist, writer, worker, friend. I love everybody. Especially you.