You learn who you are in Mexico by knowing who you are not. “Where are you from?” the cab driver asks as you slide into the backseat of the pine-fresh taxi. Faux leather seats gleam in the brightness of the midday sun. He turns down the volume of the talk radio program he was listening …
I went to Mexico City to search for Frida Kahlo.
Frida is everywhere in Mexico. The famed Mexican painter and feminist icon’s image is on the 500 peso, t-shirts, journals, handbags, and the compact mirror I carry in my purse. Knitted unibrow and braided black hair framed with flowers, Frida’s face graces street art and murals worldwide.
We heard the drums before we saw them. A steady, staccato beat beckoned us to walk farther across the bridge during the opening ceremony of the Akumal Arts Festival and Residency. Ta-ta. Um-ta-ta. Um-ta-tat-ta-ta. Um-ta-tum. Cresting the hill, we followed the beat until five Maya in traditional dress blocked our path into town. Their smooth, …
McClendon is a humble man who dreams and acts audaciously. A Detroit native, McClendon is a pastor of Berean Chapel and the Michigan Regional Representative for IIRP. He was formerly an executive assistant to Coleman A. Young, Sr., Detroit’s controversial, first, black mayor. McClendon also served as the Southeast Michigan area director for Prison Fellowship …
Read more “On Meeting Henry McClendon and Restoring Brokenness”
In recent years, the Black Lives Matter movement has been problematic. But its core values aren’t. Founded in 2013, the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement is a “decentralized political and social movement that seeks to highlight racism, discrimination, and racial inequality experienced by Black people and to promote anti-racism. Police brutality, hate crimes against Black …
Read more “Can Restorative Practices Save Black Lives in Detroit?”
I had been on suicide watch for two days. Every hour on the hour, a female floor attendant knocked on the metal frame of the bed to make sure I was still alive. The bed smelled of urine and sweat. Faint murmurings of fairies and blood came from the bone-thin woman sleeping on the cot …
I began writing on Substack last June when my life felt at an all-time low. My first subscribers were mostly people I knew in real life and online. Some of my first subscribers have supported my work for the past 20 years or more, while others are recent friends. “The Water Spirits Will Carry Us,” …