Why Even Try? Well…Why Not?

So last week I wanted to write a thing about self-love. I wanted to write it for Valentines Day because, you know, tis the season to show love and who better to show love to than yourself? But I got really sick that week and did not feel like writing and when I finally got around to it, I felt like it was too late to introduce my ideas on love to the internets.

Years of working for news sites and magazines has drilled into me the importance of timeliness. If you’re too late on a story or an idea, you might as well just throw the whole thing away. Someone else has probably already gotten to it and has probably done it better. Or else it’s so far after the moment that no one is going to care about it anymore anyway, what’s the point?

And I’m noticing this “it’s too late, what’s the point” mindset exists in both my professional and my personal life.Screen Shot 2019-02-22 at 10.12.56 AM

I tell myself it’s too late and there’s no point in doing things that I really want to do. I tell myself there’s no point in starting a podcast, there are so many in the market already. Or I tell myself why bother going to the gym? It’s going to take way too long to get the results you want and you should’ve started earlier, it’s too late now. Or I tell myself I’m far too old to be making new friends or making a career change.

Sometimes, I feel like I’m starting a race 10 miles behind everyone else. Or maybe I’m not behind other people, but I can’t seem catch up to the best version of myself in my imagination. And so I tell myself, “what’s the point in starting to run now when you’re so far behind? Why even try? You might has well not even bother.

And many times, I don’t bother. There are some days (most days actually) where I just decide not to do anything at all. Because whatever cool idea I have has probably already been done (and done better than I could do it) and by the time I get started, it’ll be far too late.

I’m in my late 20’s and my peers and I seem to be at the age when we believe time is running out. We’re running out of time to buy a house, to get married, to get a dream job, to get our shit together. And sometimes that feeling of missing a certain deadline can be so defeating, that we don’t even bother making a new deadline or goal.

We tell ourselves “I’m too late, too far behind, there’s no point. I might as well not even try.

And I wonder where this pressure to keep up or catch up comes from. Continue reading

10 Quotes About Love From Iconic Black History Makers [via HuffPost]

Screen Shot 2019-02-14 at 3.21.03 PMFeb. 14 is an amazing holiday within a holiday. It’s a time to celebrate love when we’re also celebrating the numerous contributions of Black Americans from the past and the present during Black History Month. And these Black history icons have a lot to teach us about what love means not only in relationships, but in our community and for ourselves.

On Valentine’s Day, let’s take some lessons on love from 10 Black history makers of yesterday and today who remind us what real love should look like.

Read more on HuffPost.com

It’s Not You, It’s Probably (Definitely) Me.

Hello. This is the story of how a children’s show helped me realize how I’ve fucked up some of my relationships and how I can fix them.

When I was a kid, my favorite TV show was The Powerpuff Girls. I’d argue with anyone that the original run of that series is one of the greatest television programs of all time (fight me). It was truly empowering, surprisingly hilarious and even sometimes scary (I mean, remember Him? The terrifying, gender-queer demon queen in thigh-high boots and a feather boa? I stan forever)!

I also digress because today, I find myself thinking about another recurring villain on the show: Mojo Jojo. In a season 1 episode titled “Mr. Mojo’s Rising,” Mojo Jojo, the monkey mastermind behind multiple schemes to destroy Townsville realizes how his arch nemeses, the titular Powerpuff Girls, came to be in his life and foil all of his plans. Spoilers inbound.Screen Shot 2018-12-31 at 9.05.50 AM Continue reading

[HuffPost] Are You Asking Me To Talk The ‘Right’ Way Or The ‘White’ Way?

Hand raised in class

As a child, whenever I raised my hand in class and asked, “Can I sharpen my pencil?” “Can I go to the nurse?” “Can I go to the bathroom?” I was always met with the same dry, sarcastic response followed by an expectant stare from my instructor:

“I don’t know. Can you?

It’s not that my teachers were denying me permission. They were waiting for me to ask the “right” way. According to what I was taught in all of my primary school English classes, I was supposed to say “May I,” not “Can I,” and I wouldn’t get anywhere in the classroom (or in life) until I learned the difference.

I suppose that my teachers, by staring at me while I held my bladder and my hand in the air, thought they were teaching me a valuable lesson on grammar and communication. What they were really providing was a much more valuable lesson on white supremacy, microaggressions and respectability politics, all before lunchtime.

We’re all taught “proper” English from the first day we step into the classroom. Our version of words like “betta,” “sayin’” and “turnt” must, we’re told, become the more socially acceptable “better,” “saying” and “turned.”

We’re scolded for using the habitual “be” when we say things like “we be hangin’ out.” We’re assigned books by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Nathaniel Hawthorne and George Orwell and told to start speaking like the majority-white authors we read in school.

Everyone ― black, brown and white ― is taught that one way of speaking is better than the other, and we carry this notion throughout our lives. As an editor, I enforce these rules of speech myself when reading and correcting other people’s work.

But there’s a thin line between the “right” way of speaking and the white way.

READ MORE AT HUFFPOST.COM

[HuffPost] Are Black Americans Allowed In Wakanda?

Isabella Carapella/HuffPost

Isabella Carapella/HuffPost

Warning: This piece contains spoilers.

I didn’t like “Black Panther” at first. In fact, the first time I watched the movie, I left the theater pissed off and confused about my place in the world. But I soon came to realize (after three more viewings) that my discomfort was actually the whole point of the movie.

In the hype leading up to the premiere, I was promised a groundbreaking cultural phenomenon and I wasn’t entirely disappointed. I laughed at all the quippy one-liners. I lusted after Michael B(ae) Jordan and Chadwick “I Can Play Any Historical Figure” Boseman. I stanned for Lupita Nyong’o and Danai Gurira and newcomer Letitia Wright. I danced in my seat to the Afrobeat. I gawked at the lush sets and beautiful costumes. And I marveled at the glorious fictional nation of Wakanda.

I actually went to sleep that night and dreamed of Wakanda, a utopia filled with natural beauty and technological advancements. I imagined myself as a warrior flying around in hover planes while rocking Kimoyo beads and all the other awesome tech from the movie while just being black and free.

But when I woke up, my excitement was extinguished by a sense of dread and disappointment. I know it’s not a real place, but if Wakanda were real, would its people actually let my black ass in? According to every Wakandan in this movie, not likely.

READ MORE AT HUFFPOST.COM

That Time I Hated Rihanna But Loved Respectability Politics

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There are moments when I look back at my past self and I’m immediately filled with face-reddening, knee-buckling, I wish I could time travel just so I can go back and slap myself embarrassment.

Like that time when I threw up on a boy I liked in McDonalds. Or that time during freshman year when the tail of my skirt got caught in my bookbag and my ass was exposed as I walked across the busiest part of campus. Or that time during senior year when I threw up on a different boy I liked.

There was also a sad time in my life where I didn’t like Rihanna or her music. Forgive me. And brace yourself for a cringe-worthy story. *sighhhhh* Continue reading

Trump Is The Trash Boyfriend America Never Should’ve Dated

Screen Shot 2017-08-02 at 12.39.18 PMHey America. We need to talk about your man Donald.

It’s not a secret that I don’t like him. Hell, most people we know don’t like him. Most of us are kind of confused about how you got stuck with him in the first place. Trust me girl, I don’t want to have to keep talking to you about this. In fact, my day is infinitely better when I don’t have to hear from him and I can pretend he doesn’t exist. But here we are.

America, you’re beautiful. You’re better than this. Yeah, I know you’ve had some shitty ass men in your life in the past. I don’t know why you’re still not ready to give a woman a shot but I still thought you were making progress. You were even in a pretty decent relationship with a guy named Barry just a few months ago. What happened to him? How did you go from that to… this? How could you let this walking orange muffin top undo all of the growth you’ve achieved?

He’s not even cute. And his friends suck. He doesn’t even treat you well physically. When you get sick from constant global warming, he doesn’t take care of you. In fact, he blatantly ignores you and some of his dumb cronies even tell you you’re crazy and a liar!

But the gag is, he’s a liar! He lies constantly and consistently proves how grossly misinformed he is. He comes from a family of liars so it must come naturally, I guess. But you know this is not okay, America. I know, deep down, you know.

Your man is a child. He’s always subtweeting in the middle of the night and bitching and starting arguments on Twitter or screaming at the media on TV. Girl, who does that? It’s annoying and embarrassing.

How can you trust him? He’s picking fights with your friends and making friends with your enemies. Isn’t he supposed to love and support you, America, above all others? And I don’t think I have to go over his trifling and downright dangerous history with women. Is he still out here grabbing pussy behind your back, boo?

Plus he’s hurting the people I love who I wish you loved too. He’s tearing apart Latino families, he’s allowing Native American land to be poisoned. He’s harassing and insulting women and disabled people. He’s taking away rights from gay and trans people. He’s encouraging the abuse of Black people and Muslims and Mexicans. Is there anyone he hasn’t offended? Did I mention all of this happened in the 8 months since you let him take over? It’s not going to get better, sis.

Did you hear about what he did today? He wants to take away Affirmative Action and make it harder for people who don’t speak english to immigrate. I’m not surprised. Of course he wants to take away more rights less than a week after trying to take away health care from millions of the people in your life. He’s always taking away something. What does he give to you, America? What has he done for you lately besides waste all of your money on his pipe dream of a wall? Is he ever going to gift you his tax returns like he promised?

I only say all this because I love you and I want you to do better. I’ve wanted you to do better for a while now, my whole life actually and girl, this ain’t it. Don’t let this man take you backwards.

Ya mans is trash, America. Get rid of him.

America Wants Us To Let It Go And That’s Exactly Why We Can’t

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Philando Castile’s murderer was acquitted yesterday. When a disappointing, yet predictable ruling like this happens, the Black community goes through the same pattern of emotions: Shocked (but not surprised), saddened, outraged, tired.

Then we go to work. We physically and metaphorically come together as a community and respond to another blow of injustice. We gather in prayer, we gather on the streets, we gather on Facebook and Twitter. Because we must do something. We can’t let injustice slide. We must stand up for our right to exist.

But year after year, shooting after shooting, hashtag after hashtag, I’m starting to think no matter what we do or how often we do it, there’s nothing we actually can do to make that will make Black lives matter. I’m sometimes tempted to just give up this exhausting fight, accept the way things are and let it go.

And that’s just what they want us to do: Let it go. Continue reading

I Laugh At This Administration And I Don’t Feel Bad About It.

In case you didn’t know or couldn’t guess, the nation’s capital is a pretty depressing place to be these days. Everyday, I commute to Washington DC for work. I sit on the train and navigate sidewalks crowded with dejected Washingtonians wearing faces that seem to be in mourning for our country. And I get it. Personally, I’d rather be anywhere else than DC but daily I dutifully make my way to my office which has the real estate misfortune to share a block with the home of President Trump, arguably to source of this nationwide melancholy.18740303_10155382544587460_7645837971625410423_n

However, Trump happened to be the source of some much needed comedy yesterday. He took to Twitter to complain about something or the other but his would-be ridiculous rant was marred by a more ridiculous typo that sent the Internet into a whirlwind of memes, gifs and retweets at the president’s expense. By midday, I’d seen so many #Covfefe tags I could hardly breath for laughing.

Unfortunately, #covfefe wasn’t all that went down in the world yesterday. That day also brought with it a tragic car bombing in Kabul that killed at least 80 people. And once again, we found ourselves submerged in a sea of sadness for the state of the world. And #covfefe didn’t seem to matter too much in the grand scheme of government problems. After all, it became obvious that there were more important things happening on our planet that deserve to go as viral as Trump’s typo. Right? Continue reading

8 Literary Heroines Of Color Little Jolie Needed In Her Life

I used to pretend I was a white girl. Not on purpose! And definitely not in public. Just in my imagination, when I channeled the most relatable, bad-ass and inspirational characters from my favorite books.

I’d walk through the halls of school as Hermione Granger (from Harry Potter, duh). I’d solve problems and create solutions like Violet Baudelaire from A Series of Unfortunate Events. I’d love and care for my family and even twist my hair like Laura Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie.

These characters are awesome, complex and important but damnit, I’m Black! I can never be like exactly like these girls. There have to be some equally awesome, complex and important characters of color out there, right?

After combing through my memory and my bookshelf, I rediscovered eight heroines of color that Little Jolie should’ve known more about but who Grown ass Jolie can still channel as I navigate the world as a bookish Black Girl. Continue reading