d. tafakari

Uncle Toms, Aunt Jemimas, and Other Distant Relatives

Harriet Beecher Stowe has likely rolled 500 miles in her grave by now. She wrote the second best-selling novel in the 19th century, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, only for it to be boiled down to the grime of an epithet over 200 years later: Uncle Tom. The title character she illustrated in 1852 laid down his life for escapingContinue reading “Uncle Toms, Aunt Jemimas, and Other Distant Relatives”

Turning in My Selfie Resignation

The Internet is overrun with selfies. Some alluring, some precocious, some nerdy, some pretending they don’t know that a picture is being taken when the mirror shows the camera in their hand. Look away, act surprised selfies. Duck-lipped, pouty princess, queen of all bees selfies. Other selfies are more artful, playing with light against theContinue reading “Turning in My Selfie Resignation”

Stage Fright: Rape and Slam Poetry

This will be ugly. But there is nothing pretty about rape, and I will not sugarcoat a turd if something smells rotten in Denmark. I have written a few times (here and here) about my involvement with the Southern Fried Poetry Slam and my poetry troupe, Black on Black Rhyme (BOBR). I’ve been involved with spoken word sinceContinue reading “Stage Fright: Rape and Slam Poetry”

Tilapia Worse Than Bacon?! The Horror!

In my post about food snobbery, I mentioned that my husband refuses to eat tilapia because, he says, it has no nutritional value. According to this article by Draxe.com, tilapia ranks lower than bacon on the you’re-killing-yourself scale. I wonder if my husband will have anything to say to me about the health benefits of eatingContinue reading “Tilapia Worse Than Bacon?! The Horror!”

May I Whoop Your Child, Please?

To question a famous proverb written by Hilary Clinton, if it takes a village to raise a child, does that include jacking them up? Raising children is a very hands-on endeavor, and I would like to extrapolate that phrase to mean the village should lay hands on children when necessary. You pray over them and you pop them upsideContinue reading “May I Whoop Your Child, Please?”