Every so often, I hear it—from intelligent, well-meaning Black folks; from white people looking for political cover or just drinking the Republican Kool-Aid served hot on Fox News; or worse, from Black men who swear…
Fatherhood
By definition, it’s just “the state or time of being a father.”But for me, it’s something deeper—one of the greatest joys a man can ever have. Like every Father’s Day, I find myself overwhelmed and…
Paddy Rollers & Slave Patrols
There are masked men rounding people up in America. Not in the dark corners of conspiracy, not in some dystopian sci-fi film—but in real time, right now. They’re staked out at schools, loitering near courthouses,…
The White Man Ain’t Gonna Let You
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How many times have we heard that refrain?“You know how the White man is…”“The system.”“They ain’t gonna let you…” This morning, while on my run, I started thinking about the mythology of The White Man.…
Whytmanastan
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I first heard Karen Hunter use the term a while ago, and this morning, Lurie Daniel-Favors said it again on her show—Whytmanastan—to describe the vision behind Project 2025 and the fever dream of this administration.…
Before It Was Memorial Day
Before the barbecue. Before the beach trips and blowout sales. Before America made it about summer. We made it sacred. May 1, 1865, Charleston, South Carolina. The Civil War had just ended. Freedom had just…
May 19th Belongs to the Fire Starters: Malcolm & Yuri
I’m not here to litigate who killed Malcolm.Not here to debate why the FBI feared him, or how America labeled him a threat while ignoring the threats it posed to him.And I’m not here to…
Y’all Still Buying Eggs?
To all you Appalachian-living, no-teeth-having, Walmart-shopping, healthcare-lacking, MAGA hat-wearing inbreds—are you still buying eggs? What did yo’ mans have to give up to get a $400 million dollar plane? Was it his soul or yours.…
MOVE
I’m a few days late writing this. May 13, 2025, marked what would have been the 40th anniversary of this horrific event. But I needed time—to learn more, to sit with the weight of it,…
Dear Momma,
Twenty-seven—the number of years you’ve been gone. It still hurts. I still don’t really celebrate Mother’s Day. I used to say after you were gone that Michelle is not my mother, so I don’t have…