A walk of privilege in which I end up in the front

Last Saturday, I got my official advocacy training for the Partnership Against Domestic Violence (yay!). I can finally get started with the internship now! I have started!

In case you didn’t get the notification from my Linked In update, PADV has taken me on as one of their Teen Prevention Interns, which means I get to go to high schools and after school organizations and whatnot and talk to teenagers about teen dating violence, the warning signs, and what to do if God forbid you find yourself in that situation.

The training was heavy and enlightening and I took copious notes (thank you, high school history teacher, for teaching me how to fill a notebook) and also took notice of how the facilitators facilitated and how the activities they used for a general volunteer training could translate into teen dating violence contexts (thank you, VOX adult guide-on-the-side, for teaching me to always be META meta).

And then.

Continue reading “A walk of privilege in which I end up in the front”

More than Coffee: My Life Between Black and White

When I learn about history, I see myself standing in Ghana with the bloody Atlantic washing at the backs of my feet, looking ahead at the white castles where my ancestors must have been taken. When I visit the castles, what will I feel? Guilt or grief? Vanilla or chocolate? Vanilla or chocolate? Since I have never met my black father or traced back that side of my history, are my roots forever snipped? Can I claim this story as my own? If I come from a white family that is comfortably middle class, does that mean I have white privilege? What if my ancestors owned slaves? Is this what race means? Having questions without any right answers and asking them anyway?

Continue reading “More than Coffee: My Life Between Black and White”

In Safety and Solidarity

If you believe it is okay for the state to tear children away from their families,

If you believe that it is a sin if you are not heterosexual and do not present as the same gender you were born as,

If your interpretation of religion is too narrow to include women’s leadership and sheer existence,

If you support the criminalization of breathing while Black,

If you think that children are to be seen and not heard,

If you do not actively speak out about the sale of weapons used to slaughter children in schools,

If you do not believe that mental illness is something physical and real,

If you have ever called any group of people by a name that diminishes their humanity,

If you are not outraged by the systematic erasure of Black history,

If you support Donald Trump still,

If you are complicit in the systematic oppression of immigrants, LGBTQ peoples, women, African Americans, youth, the mentally ill, Muslims, or any other group that has been systematically oppressed,

I cannot be your friend anymore. I cannot support your platform or what you are about. I cannot be about what you are about.


Anthem, or Thirteen Reasons Why Not, or Things I Tell Myself on Dark Nights


According to a report by the Department of Agriculture, it costs approximately $233,610 to raise a child, which was enough for my mother to buy 4 porsches or pay off all her student loan debt, but instead she decided to almost give her life and all the blood in her body for me to live a little,

To see the stars and make them my own

And she must have believed that there is goodness enough in this world for these verses to grow that there is strength enough in these verses for these verses to grow.


Will she still believe in goodness when I’m gone? Continue reading “Anthem, or Thirteen Reasons Why Not, or Things I Tell Myself on Dark Nights”