I Ain't Said Nothin' But A Word...

I am sitting in the midst of greatness. Twenty-six female authors came together in Destin, Florida this weekend to celebrate their love of literature and their joy for writing. They came from all corners of the country, at varying levels in their writing careers. There are the seasoned professionals, the mid-list authors, and the newbies. They are all spirited, driven, and determined to transcend the perception of who they are as black women and as black women who write. They have gathered to share information and perfect their craft. What they each do is an art and not one takes the responsibility of being better at it lightly. The abundance of support and encouragement is monumental, each wanting the others to do their very best in an industry that often takes them and their talents for granted. Laughter has been abundant, resonating through every room of their rented beach house. There have even been a few tears of frustration as they shared the trials and tribulations th...

I’m angry. I’m a mother of black sons and I’m angry. 2015 was eye-opening for too many. Last year young black men were dropping like flies at the hands of those who lied about serving and protecting. Suddenly, the N-word that Jay-Z claimed he and his generation were taking and using to empower the black male has been taken back and reclaimed, its original connotation like a banner for racists who don’t bother to wear hoods anymore. Now, little white girls print the letters on tee shirts and use the word for photo ops. I sat and listened as a group of young men bemoaned the arrest of a fellow friend and college classmate. He’d been pulled over in his girlfriend’s car for a broken taillight. When asked if the officer could search the car, he gave consent, knowing that he had no reason to be concerned. Minutes later he was surrounded by two other patrol cars, the officer claiming dried, crushed leaves on the floor board had to be remnants of marijuana. After being handcuffed and ...

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