Echoes of Anita: The Importance of Her Voice 25 Years Later

Decemember 7, 2017 Think back to 1992, the Year of the Woman, Anita Hill, Clarence Thomas. Now turn on the news, any channel. We all know that history repeats itself, but how many times in one year? This year has truly been a year of repetitive history intensified and spiraling out of control. It also … More Echoes of Anita: The Importance of Her Voice 25 Years Later

A Letter to My Lord

Sometimes, our young people simply need a space to vent, to express their frustrations before powering up and pushing through. This week, Earnesha is ‘writing to rise’, by showcasing her vulnerabilities. A bold step in our fierce world. Sometimes, there is strength in softness. Over and over and over again This pain won’t leave like … More A Letter to My Lord

The Truth

As I spill this tea out of my cup that says “Black Girl Magic” in big, bold letters of melanin, try to picture me. Opinionated and sassy, yet soft spoken because it confuses them when I act in such a way. Because I don’t scream “I’m angry!” you think you can make me play on … More The Truth

The Tale of Two Waffle Houses & One “Justified” Act of Violence

There is something to be said for the state of blackness when you can’t even go to Waffle House in peace. In the span of a week Travis Reinking carried out a mass shooting committed by with an ‘assault-style rifle’  leaving four people dead in Antioch, TN and Chikesia Clemons was arrested in Alabama by … More The Tale of Two Waffle Houses & One “Justified” Act of Violence

Breathe: An Open Letter to Ambitious Underrepresented People of Color

During my first week of business school, my classmates and I played a game that caused me great inner turmoil. The game left me wanting to say things I knew would ruffle some feathers. The game was StarPower, which involves collecting points by negotiation. We drew chips from a bag, and based on the value … More Breathe: An Open Letter to Ambitious Underrepresented People of Color

No Days Off

I’m tired. I’m like Fannie Lou Hamer, My mama A mama with three kids and no job tired. I’m tired of bleeding, crying, And sleeping with my fists balled up, And my eyes just as tight. But for this kinda anger, Rising inside of me? There are no days off. I’m tired of sirens, tears, … More No Days Off