By Priscila Dorcas Mojica Rodriguez
My mami has always looked down on “vain” women. Women who wear makeup, women who wear tight clothes, women who do their hair, women who are hyper feminine. My parent’s friends at church called me vanidosa and too self-centered and said that wanting to be those things, wanting to look like I wanted to look, was something that sins were made of.
By Tre Johnson
While on the outside “Get Out” is about many of these same issues—the film touching on everything from the criminal justice, black bodies and the ever-simmering tensions of black-white relations—it’s actually squarely preying on white liberalism, a group that often views itself as harmless when it comes to racism and bigotry.
By Joel Daniels
I bit the shit out of my lips the night Trump was elected. I used Google’s homepage and Deray McKesson’s Twitter feed as my nightly round-up, peering sadly at the gobbling up of red and blue votes; listening via mobile to the back-and-forth analysis of swing states, senate votes, and the like.
It’s 2001. My mother opens the bathroom door and I am in my underwear, breathing heavily like a backup dancer. I have a smile on my face and sweat on my shoulders. My little ribs under my brown skin are sore because I’ve been shaking my hips from left to right for an entire verse and ch
By Karas Lamb
“Is Prince dead?” The question flooded in on the morning of April 21st, 2016. A rush to communal panic that fed my gut the truth faster than any search engine could ever deliver a credible source.