Nelly wants the world to think they have to choose between a video and a life. Because that's what he did. By canceling his bone marrow drive, he made his choice. And by having our own drive and bringing a national conversation to the forefront of our community, we made ours.
In its own way, the HBCU made the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom possible. Today's HBCU must make meaning of its legacy for its students, who must work tirelessly to usher in a better society and more just world.
Black femininity has been and still is wholly devalued. Black women's regality is too often erased and replaced with obligatory domesticity and/or hypersexuality. These constructions of black women ignore their diversity, diminish their dignity and neglect their humanity.
I have a dream that one day there will no longer be such a vast divide between "social consciousness" and "entertainment". Our world is too damaged to remain subscribed to traditional paradigms in entertainment.
Take a moment to enjoy the American philanthropic Julian Bond song for the success that it is. The lessons of his song will have great meaning in the civil rights and social justice movements of today.
Hope Harris is making her way to the 595 North Event Venue and Lounge -- in the heart of Atlanta -- for the SESAC Strip showcase. But first she has to finish a 12-page research paper for her theater class.
Rather than comparing HBCUs to majority institutions, the U.S. News and World Report ranks the historic institutions against their peers. This is problematic since these institutions as a group are wonderfully diverse.
It's scary how my collegiate years seem to be slipping away. While some of my peers are itching to decorate their cars with "Spelman Alumna" bumper stickers, I'm in no rush to dive head first into the real world.
I knew I would attend an HBCU because there was a cultural puzzle piece missing in my life, an untold story about my history that was not in the repetitive lessons my white teachers thought were expanding horizons or bringing awareness.
Had I not known better, I would have sworn I was being initiated into a secret society, minus the blood oaths I had read about and seen in movies one too many times. Instead, I was now a part of the Spelman sisterhood.