I remember the first time I saw a dark-skinned anime character on screen.
personal essays
This is a charge to anyone reading this who struggles with their mental health or knows they may simply need a release, but are scared to take the first step. I feel you.
It’s late February 2020—a pre-COVID-19 world. I was attending a Black tech entrepreneur mixer being held at my office that I didn’t really want to go to, but I decided at the…
When I moved to America at age six, I became a ghost. Crossing the Atlantic ocean, I left behind family, customs, and traditions. I remember the day exactly, July 11th, 2005. My mother had…
Trauma. Traumatic. “I was traumatized.”
Then, about two minutes later, another man who saw the “Talk to me!” sign I apparently had taped to my shirt came over.
“Wow, you’re hot,” he said.
There is no feeling that compares to the car ride from Midway Airport to my Bronzeville community. The view of the skyline from I-55 featuring a new skyscraper I can’t quite place,…
In almost every African-American family, no matter how successful or how much they are struggling, there’s always one family member, usually a Black woman, who takes on the “superhero” role. We all…
I have imagined how this breakup would go over a hundred times now in my head. While everyone in my office is away at lunch on a hazy summer afternoon, I’d secretly…
Coming out as a Black bisexual woman is messy, significant, deeply personal…and I’m sick of it.