Like many Black folks, I am perpetually exhausted by seeing the unexciting trend of a White person doing things that Black folks do every day and getting applause, clout, and cookout invitations for paying attention to Black culture. More egregious recent events have given way to popular discourse about gatekeeping Black culture, but it seems like we as a country have yet to figure out what it means to celebrate Black people.
In the present moment, many organizations are attempting to pay their just due from last summers’ racial reckonings with calls to buy Black, support Black businesses, and commemorate…
With six months under our belts in 2021, many have begun to refer to 2020 as the “lost year.” Twenty-twenty was the year that brought us so much — trauma, a reset, inner peace, anxiety. Essentially, it was a basket case of a year. If you are Black, however, it brought with it the persistent reminder that even in the midst of a global pandemic, where a trip to the grocery store could land you in the hospital or worse, being Black in America was still just as deadly as contracting Covid-19. …
First and foremost, Naomi Osaka is an amazing athlete. She is a four-time Grand Slam champion. However, as a Haitian-Japanese woman, Osaka has faced tremendous pressure on and off the court. After using her platform to speak against racial injustices, the backlash came swiftly. When athletes faced harsh critiques for branching out beyond the realm of sports, Osaka stood firm in her conviction. Some of her motivation comes from activist athletes like Muhammad Ali. Last fall, at the U.S. Open Tennis Championship, Osaka wore a Black face mask with white letters reading Tamir Rice.
I recently wrote an article asking White people to resist the urge to center everything in the world around “Whiteness.” It offended quite a few people, I got a lot of flack and in the end, my work got censored. What I realized is that many people didn’t really understand what I meant by “not centering the world around whiteness.” It’s as if they felt it was some type of hate speech or animosity against White people. The fact is, if they were Black like me, they’d fully understand why I made this ask. If they walked in my shoes…
It’s been one year since George Floyd was murdered, one year since the world took paid attention to the atrocities of police brutality and White supremacy, one year since we took to the streets, to social media, to businesses and boldly declared Black lives matter.
And we haven’t stopped. Since the video release of George Floyd’s death, many of you have come to Medium to share your grief, your fear, your anger, your hopes for the future of Black life in America. Through your words, you’ve helped move forward the fight for freedom.
It is now a year after the murder of George Floyd, and Black people are still exhausted.
“There’s something called racial battle fatigue, and it is the exhaustion that comes from event after event, assault after assault,” says Thema Bryant-Davis, a professor of psychology at Pepperdine University and the director of the university’s Culture and Trauma Research Center. “Because although this milestone is very significant, there have been many others right before that and after that.”
Nikole Hannah-Jones is a Pulitzer-Prize winning journalist, MacArthur fellow, legal scholar, and activist. She published the “1619 Project” in the New York Times in 2019, which provided a candid view of American history, starting with the forced arrival of enslaved Africans to Jamestown. Hannah-Jones’ interactive project demonstrates with clarity that slavery was an essential component of America’s founding. That part right there has conservatives throwing shade. To the opposition, Hannah-Jones gave a clear message:
I see my work as forcing us to confront our hypocrisy, forcing us to confront the truth that we would rather ignore.
As a trailblazer searching…
Black. She/Her. Cis. Hetero. College-educated. Cancer survivor. Blissfully married. 30.
That list of identities will never contain the word mother.
It’s the pandemic, you’re tempted to rationalize. It’s climate change, you muse.
Ah, it makes sense now; it’s all that racialized trauma.
You’d be right. But this decision transcends the external and lies deep within.
From the word Black, you’ll bring expectations to this piece by association. I expected that.
Black. Woman. American. If you can, strip your eyes of the film of caste, of indoctrination, or association. Shed that burden. This isn’t a commentary on the political. …
We’re not going back to “normal.”
Kimani Jones had been happily working in the wedding industry in New York City as a content creator when news about Covid-19 broke. She, like many workers across the country, was sent home with her laptop and work file, assured her job was safe and told to return when the pandemic blew over. Shortly after, she received an email that the company was laying off the team, but would bring them back. But that never happened.
The unemployment program payouts were dwindling, and even with the stimulus payments, Jones and her chronically-ill husband needed…
What does it mean to be a mother? What does it mean to be a Black mother? Those two questions continue to yield entirely different answers in America today. As the biracial mother of a 4-year-old girl with both Asian American and African American roots, and a father from Spain to boot, I am constantly aware of the way her identity is being shaped by the sights and smells and sounds that she takes in every day — on television, at the playground, and in her preschool classroom.
“Her hair is curly like mine,” she’ll say when we see another…
Bold, yet refined. A publication from Medium for Black women.