Ode: to the Gal in the Mirror
This place in the mirror has been sacred ground to fill with wonder and winding hips, wetness and weirdness in toe.
The Return of the Lonely Black Girl
This is in part a confession: I’ve called myself lonely and I realized I haven’t been.
Black Girl in Berlin
I’ve been in Berlin for 6 weeks, living and working as a part of my master’s fellowship. There aren’t many Black women, let alone Black Germans.
Lonely in New York
It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I’ve been hiding in plain sight. How many people have added this chapter to their journey? Coming to New York for self-discovery, for a revelation of purpose and destiny.
Origins of Blackness
My summers on Staunton Avenue with my family and Paul Laurence Dunbar socialized attitudes about Blackness that continue to be a source of pride. The performance of Blackness was inextricably linked with intellect, beauty, humor, and (historic and immediate) community. These would be the initial influences of not only the way I viewed myself as Black but also how I viewed other Black people. Eventually, this notion of self would be challenged by encounters with the outside, non-Black world.
Alone, Together
One of the things that can be most frustrating about being alone is that your refuge is in your head. You go through these ridiculous loops with yourself. It’s almost a form of insecurity, eating you from the inside out. You are hyper-aware of yourself when you’re alone–more of that me against the world mentality that turns your sound reasoning into mush. Fortunately, I was able to release a little bit of that paranoia for long enough to get a bit of hope for the future.
Introducing the Lonely Black Gal
Being the Lonely Black Gal is that state of duality: wanting to be alone and being forced into isolation. Knowing that your solitude is both curated and necessary.