Voices

Here’s what it means to be unapologetically Black: full lips, natural curves, kinky curly coils, shaded brown skin, and thus relentless criticism for being what was once believed to be despicable and unworthy of many people (particularly white).

Yes, once upon a time, our skin complexion was too grungy for pools, our juicy lips weren't allowed to share water fountains, and our round bottoms weren't welcome to sit any and everywhere.

At some point, Black became “in” amongst the white race (or maybe it always was, secretly, of course), beginning with the tanning and plastic surgery, and now our overall style, thanks to celebrities like Miley Cyrus and Kylie Jenner, who have blatantly stole what was once ours and made it theirs. Or so the rest of the world would have you believe.

Your barista was less friendly than usual…Are you not on good terms anymore? Maybe something has happened in his/her life. You wonder what might’ve happened. Should you have asked them? Maybe they thought you were rude for not caring. Maybe they didn’t want you to ask because they just wanted to deal with it themselves. Maybe they were just really deep in thought and didn’t notice you were there. Maybe you should’ve seemed more upbeat. Your coffee wasn’t as good today either. Is that related?

What a time to be alive and a Black woman in 2016. This year we’ve seen some of the biggest “call to action” campaigns for Black women, from Beyonce’s Formation to #Blackgirlmagic. Right now Black women as a whole are being represented like never before — as beautiful, inspiring and radiant queens.

I’d been so busy patting myself on the back for conquering my big fears, I failed to acknowledge that the types of things that scare me had shifted. A lot of the obvious stuff didn’t bother me anymore — but what about all the smaller, more personal things that still scared the living shit out of me?

Our friendship was over long before that night I hurt her feelings because she hurt mine. Our commonalities were evaporating, we didn’t see one another as often, and I’m fairly certain we didn’t like one another anymore. While growing up, we grew apart — but instead of seeing that natural division as a normal, common and positive part of adulthood, we grew scared and self-conscious and defensive. What does this mean about us, as women? Why can’t we continue to love one another? Are we bad friends? Are we bad people?

They call us bitches. We're too forward, or too loud. They say we're not ladylike. That we should shut up and sit down. And we should be content with what we've got — what else do we want, anyway? They say we're trying to be men. They say we hate men. But we say we're strong women, and they can go to hell. The internet glorifies strong women while slut-shaming out the other side of its mouth.

Many people are aware of bipolar disorder. Most know it’s a mental illness that swings the brain between depression and mania. Most understand depression to be debilitating, a condition that combines sadness, despair, exhaustion, and lack of motivation. But most people don’t understand mania (which is experienced primarily by people with bipolar I) or hypomania (which those with bipolar II tend to encounter more than full-blown mania) — at least not fully.

Mark your calendars for The Reproductive Freedom Festival on the evening of March 20. Over three hours of live performances will be streamed from a studio in Manhattan to viewers across the country — and the world. It will be accessible via computers and other digital devices for free. Pre-show highlights begin at 5:15 pm EST. The goal of the event is to foster awareness of and focus attention on the issue of reproductive rights and bodily autonomy, while anchored in Women’s History Month.