White supremacy asks us, on the Fourth, to consider ourselves one American people. But this too is an injustice, because it asks many to forget the ways in which the promise of America never applied to them and still remains largely incomplete. Perpetuating the myth of American independence, while it doesn't fully apply to all, cannibalizes the very hope of full emancipation and real equality.
Blacks are expected in a few states to live in the shadows of flag that celebrated and promoted our enslavement under any means necessary.
I was raised to be a strong, black woman who could handle her own emotions -- not ask someone to help me sort them out. How dare I need treatment for feeling worthless and for being bullied when I come from a lineage of ancestors who used strength and endurance as a way to survive?
The fourth of July is upon us, a holiday that signifies a meaningful moment in U.S. history, a date that marks our official independence as a nation. Over time, freedom and independence have come to take on very deep meaning for me as a transracially adopted person.
In the fuzzy arithmetic of their moral equivocation, flag pins matter, firearms matter, border patrols matter, but black and brown lives don't matter unless they can be leveraged for some self-serving political purpose
My protest started by recoloring the Confederate flag black, red and green -- the colors of black nationalism. This was my way of arresting my own anxiety and fear of black erasure, both personal and collective.
Knowing that we are not given the same opportunity to ever fully rest, we must keep faith and hope in an ultimate peace. We must keep faith and hope that things can change.
Right now, too many Americans are working long days for less pay than they deserve. That's partly because we've failed to update overtime regulations for years -- and an exemption meant for highly paid, white collar employees now leaves out workers making as little as $23,660 a year -- no matter how many hours they work.
Much like stubborn weeds growing between breaks in the sidewalk, Detroiters simply will not let their city fall away into disrepair or allow buildings to stay abandoned.
The count of black churches in the South that have been torched is not the six that have been burned since the massacre of nine blacks at Charleston's Emmanuel AME Church, but 37. The church burnings occurred in a period of not two weeks but over 18 months.
The best way to commit to our causes is to understand how they are connected to others. In that way, we realize that our liberations are inseparably linked to the liberation of others. If your advocacy is not rooted in intersectionality, it doesn't take much for others to surmise that you're merely pursuing your privilege, not equality.
President Barack Obama's eulogy for Reverend Clementa Pinckney unified nearly all Americans with a call to equal justice that no preceding generation had any realistic expectation to achieve. It was a moment desperately imagined by the voters who supported him in 2008 and 2012.
There's an important question being left out of the furor over charges that Rachel Dolezal, the former head of the NAACP's Spokane chapter, has been "lying" about her race: How can you lie about something that doesn't have any objective truth to it in the first place?
The film is about growing up and getting over one's circumstances. It humanizes the black male experience growing up in America; as do many of the films that are directed by Famuyiwa.
How much worse is it going to have to get before we take accountability for our racism and actively engage in dismantling it?
The physical endangerment that intense hostility toward a group can produce is particularly unsettling when you consider the breadth of damage it can have on how the targeted group thinks about their safety.
Newsome's action was a reminder to abandon the comfort and relative safety of insipid discontent. If we want more, we have to demand more.
I just can't vibe with one aspect of my existence being uplifted while another piece is reminded of its inhumanity every single day. I can't focus on something like marriage, or living boldly and proudly, when I need to focus on keeping myself and those like me alive.
When you think of all the "black people who are so offended and just like to complain," picture my face. Picture the face of your black friends. Think of the hurt in my heart and the tears I cry when I feel like I can do everything right but still be seen as "inferior" because of my skin color.