So-called "White Supremacy." "White privilege." Why do some people hold onto these expressions of "Whiteness" (which is a fiction anyway) so tightly? When you remove "Whiteness" from someone's identity, what's left? This week, my super-smart sister-friends and I tackle this question: "Is Whiteness really all you got?"

Don't call it a comeback--we've been here for a whole year!

Let me tell you a little story about how the Coronavirus Quarantine almost made me have to chop off all of my hair (or "How Faux Locs Almost Became Dreadlocks"). 

Don't let the press-n-curl fool you. Aunt Jemima isn't who or what you think she is...and you don't really care about the "success" of the women who've portrayed her. 

The sign reads "If Black Lives Matter, Then Stop Black on Black Killing. Period." Ummmm...what do you *do* with *that*? 

Violent protest doesn’t ask for permission—neither mine nor yours. It doesn’t need our permission. Nor does it want our permission. When lives are at stake, permission is just another form of oppression, and protest--violent AND peaceful--seeks and serves to end that oppression. To remove the foot—or knee—that was so violently placed on the collective neck of the oppressed. The oppressor never asks permission to hurt, maim, rape, asphyxiate, or murder the oppressed, so why do we keep insisting that the oppressed seek the approval of their oppressors? Again, you know the answer to that question. 

While I might not quite have known where I wanted this episode to start, I do know how I want it to end—and I know what boundaries I want us Black folk to set, at least today.  What we ain’t gon’ do—not if we really want to be good and kind to ourselves, especially we Black folk in America--is harm ourselves by voluntarily watching yet another lynching...

You don’t need to witness a lynching to know that its perpetrators are wicked….and you definitely don’t need to witness a lynching more than one time to be sure of that fact.