Sometimes to be whole, one must break. For me it was February 1, 2023. However, upon reflection, the senseless pain of others, past, present, and future, like the lash of a whip, had always cut deep into my soul. That February date simply marked the tipping point of exhaustion from watching the oppressed wearing the face of the oppressor. Leading up to that day my soul could not rest. I kept seeing overseers and slave drivers. I heard the howling of dogs, across centuries. M

As I walked the streets of Paris, I exhaled fear, trauma, and anxiety. I inhaled the courage and wisdom of Josephine Baker, Nina Simone,...

As I looked out the window, sipping my morning tea, I didn’t know that this would be the day I’d lose my way to find so much more than...

I cannot tell a lie, since learning the current regime running the United States would take control of all three branches of government,...