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 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.

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.

Connecting with someone online can be hit or miss; the persona doesn’t always match the person. Jade, however, is her truest self on and off these digital streets. With every inch of her humanity, she schools, edifies and teaches.

My particular brand of natural hair has always been a battleground for me long before I was aware. Within my strands laid power and animosity, strength and fragility, gainful employment and reprimands. In losing so much, I’ve gained an understanding of myself as defined as my multitextured curls. I am loose and tight, bound and strong, moisturized and never dry.

Give it up for the queens with Qs in their names. We can never seem to hear our names right, and when I first met NaQuetta, I made a point to pronounce her name properly and let her know, “sis, same.”

“We’re cousins now”, I remember saying awkwardly and she didn’t laugh me off. Years later after losing touch for a bit, we’ve become family.