Echoes stretched across the Atlantic and settled as the sounds of the diaspora. Others arrive as posture. As breath. As the way a body remembers before the mind names anything at all. A century ago, a seed was planted and … Continue reading The Mother Codex
I met Martin Luther King Jr. in the fifth grade. He met me on the January 1986 cover of Ebony magazine. “The Living King.” The assignment was simple. Write about someone who inspires you. I chose him, not because I … Continue reading The King and I
Presence is not performance.It is breath and backbone. The low drum beneath our hurried names. While the world strings lights on credit and calls it joy. We light candles for survival. For the mothers who worked doubles. For the grandmothers … Continue reading Presence In the Rhythm Of Our Soul
Three-Fifths 