What the Saturn Return brings, let no BS put asunder. Some people blaze a new trail of understanding in your life. When you meet, you discover you have similar laughs and senses of humor. You learn from one another and embrace their family as they’ve embraced yours. I sat down with a bowl of the best ramen in the city to chop it up with the Sauce Lord himself.
Do the destined get to mourn, to grieve, to have doubts, to say the subconscious part outloud, to follow the intrusive thoughts just to the edge?
Have you ever answered a call that changed your life? That’s what I thought after first speaking with Kwame over Messenger in 2020. During that time, I was smack in the middle of another crisis of faith and theology, unlearning all that held me in bondage under the guise of religion. Kwame embraced my questions and confusion with patience and humor. Since then, she’s become one of my sisters I run to when that ole time religion begins to bring up old wounds. She’s real, she’s raw, she’s everything. Read more of our conversation below.
What’s your favorite coffee shop order? Mine is a vanilla chai tea latte with almond milk. It’s warm and grounding, a signal that I’m doing something worthwhile. That’s what I ordered when I first met Lindsey in person at Philz Coffee in Bethesda, Maryland. We shared about puppies, working with tweens, how doing this work can be both rewarding and exhausting. She’s been a light as 2020 threw a shadow over all of us. After some time, I finally got to get her into my interview chair.
Shadow work isn’t for the faint. It’s been said to be the active discovery of the ugly sides of ourselves and “dealing” with them. But what does the “dealing” look like? Is it all pain? All shame? Or is it a time to get to know the us that’s been there waiting, underneath the covers? I sat down with three of my blitchiest sistren: Courtney “Zegasus” Derrell, Mambo Ruth and Shelley Vega to take a deeper dive into the meanings of shadow work and how to best do your own excavating.
Some people pop into your life as a quiet rage. They bring with them a slow burn with a pocketful of matches to light the way to a higher way of thinking. The rage stems from lived experience and the deep desire to teach and learn. Roger contains multitudes worthy of understanding: an ever-evolving being holding the power to meld into different characters at-will. Let’s sit down and learn something new.
In my view, a chronicle indicates that a story is always being reimagined: it may take some turns and pauses, but the story itself keeps moving forward. Lauren and I share the experience of telling our stories on the big stage, surrounded by strangers who have become friends-in-bravery. Recently, I sat down with Lauren to ask some questions.
Too many times, we parents try to shield the tough things from our children out of fear of psychological and/or emotional harm. We deem sights and sounds too much for young bodies to endure, so much so that we paint the world a rosy sheen and hope it sticks. It does us, but mostly them, a huge disservice.
Dr. Maya Angelou fell silent after trauma. I know that sound. It’s the sound of swallowing words because it’s safer. Stomach acid will protect you but not from memory. Her tale of learning how to speak again shows me how much is possible on the other side of silence.
I wanted to write something about the Black women sex educators I look up to.
I was reminded this morning about my first time tripping the brownie fantastic. In this moment of pandemic, allow me to share a trippy-ass story involving a good sis edible-wielder.
What truly is power? Is it an action? A presence? A state of being.
Is power used to justify or villify? Can power be passed down, like a sacred heirloom only those trusted with the legacy can hold onto? Can abused power be reborn? I asked Nikkea Sharee and Shivawn Mitchell these questions and they provided me some thought-provoking answers. Read along with me.
They say life is not a race, but a marathon. It takes training, a solid will, the tenacity to keep going, especially as all around you begins to disappear. The Runner’s High is said to be one of the most intoxicating feelings to exist within. It’s where the pain of running lifts and you reach a state of euphoria. I sat down to ask Terence about his race long enough for him to catch his breath. Read our exchange below.
It’s funny the things we do and don’t talk about. When it comes to sex, we share a lot without sharing anything. Is that on purpose? Does it add to the mystique? Or is it more socially acceptable to keep talk about sex to a comfortable minimum? I sit down with two women verging upon the envelopes of sex positivity, openness and creativity as they seek to push them clear across the shaken table.
The double-mindedness of being moved by this thing and being told that this thing is nothing to be moved by. An elder church thing — watching the women in white chastise the “fast-tail” girls that looked like me but weren’t. I didn’t understand why. Why the hatred. Why the words dripping with disdain through furrowed lips.
Amanda Eaddy is not one you hold down for long. The deepest of sympathies to anyone who attempts to pigeonhole her. Underneath the monikers of mother, author, educator, lies flesh and bone, desiring all the best life has. And life has come through - bestowing a resonance of word and encouragement. I chatted with Amanda. Follow our conversation after the jump.
The next time you’re drawing an internal blank, stand in front of a bevy of notebooks.
Ka’lyn is your grandmother’s favorite. She’s the cousin that, when she chooses to come to the function, makes the function worthwhile. She’s the professor that got you through that last semester by not coddling you, but by lighting a fire both under your ass and bright enough to give you a peek down the road. I got to chop it up with her recently. Keep reading to learn more about the Dr.
