by Dash Harris

The story of Jakiyah McCoy is not surprising.

It is sadly a story many AfroLatinos face every second of their lives. Erasure and invisibility.

On September 18th, a college friend of mine posted the link to the ‘El Tiempo Hispano’ story and commented that:

”[the pageant] required proof of only her ethnicity, not the other contestants. On top of that they take her title and crown away, because she can’t show proof of ethnicity because her undocumented grandmother who was from the Dominican Republic, which gives her the necessary 25% of Latino ancestry, is deceased.”

Originally posted at The Infamous L

I love hip-hop. As one of my favorite genres, it has played a large part in my upbringing, influenced some of my own music and been a source of personal enjoyment. Setting itself apart from the infinite number of musical genres listened to worldwide, hip-hop is often revered for its masculinity, ability to influence culture and uniqueness in sound, style and lyricism. And while I have latched onto my love of hip-hip for well over 10 years I cannot help but question whether as a Black woman, my love for hip-hip is an unrequited one.

by Lyndsey Ellis

National Comic Book Day typically involves witnessing people honor the geek within as they reminisce about magazines that once contained versions of their alter egos. I don’t know if it’s a replenished creative drive brought on by the change of seasons or a thirst to read more science fiction lately, but this year’s celebration sparked nagging thoughts about black women’s absence in the world of superheroism.

by Tonya Ladipo, LCSW

Shame is such a crippling emotion as it is the most extreme version of embarrassment coupled with guilt. There are two types of shame that we experience, Earned Shame and Given Shame.

The shame that is earned is from our own doing and hand. It comes from when we've hurt someone or done something wrong. It is the emotion that results from knowing better but not having done better. As awful as it feels this type of shame actually can be very useful. It becomes part of our moral compass and tells us when we've gone out of bounds. It reminds us of what's right. The guilt that comes with shame from doing wrong is a strong motivator to do differently next time.

by Amber Johnson

The trajectory of race relations in the United States has been and will continue to be anything but smooth. In terms of public relations and cultural reconciliation, great strides have been made as is shown by the de-segregation of schools and public spaces and the strike down of anti-miscegenation laws. However, systemic discrimination and unconscious bias are still very much imbedded in the American society. This discrimination and bias are apparent in many forms, but one of the most current forms exists in the fashion world.

Truth be told, I felt sick, awful, and could barely talk. I had myself convince myself to seek medical attention for some kind of assistance. I was not sure why but I went.

“Can you verify your date of birth please?” Before, I could even answer the nurse informs me that I was about to be the BIG THREE ZERO in just a few weeks. I must have blacked for a second because there I was in my high school cafeteria with my high school friends. We were talking about all our life plans and how amazing it would be when we would be adults while eating nachos. I, myself was listening to others talk but thinking how I would be wife, mother, college graduate, world traveler by the time I was 30. I believed at the time that my children and my best-friend children would play outside in the yard together while our husband drink beer. The two of us would go walking in our upscale diverse neighborhood after work while dinner was cooking in the crock pot.

”If you come only to help me, you can go back home. But if you consider my struggle as part of your struggle for survival, then maybe we can work together.”—Aboriginal wise woman

I have become increasingly bothered by the implications of the term ‘ally’. Particularly, I am disturbed by how some, from academics to entertainers, use this label to force themselves on marginalized groups and use them for their own platform. I accept that most people who identify with being an ally do so from a place of genuine concern for the issue. They are proud to be activists along with people who are more directly affected by a specific social injustice. For the most part, I do not question the sincerity of those who identify as allies, this is an important point I want to make from the start. However, I take issue with the implied sense of unaffectedness of the term, and how the behavior of some who identify as allies has been downright traitorous to the causes which they claim to be aligned. The entitlement expressed by some self-appointed allies to be the voice of their chosen cause and the accolades they get often times far surpass the group or movement with which they associate.

This article was originally published on The Filthy Freedom Project.

Having witnessed the indecencies of our justice system and the insidious nature of power and patriarchy, I am part of the 74% of Americans who know someone who is or has been a victim of domestic violence. I was about five or six years old the first time I witnessed intimate partner violence (IPV); my mother, at twenty-one, was gasping for air by the hands of a young man, likely no older than I am today. It is unfortunate, yet telling, that often times it is violence and power that give us our element of humanity. And although it is my first vivid memory, it was surely not the last. A number of broken bones and ribs, collapsed lungs and swollen features later, I found myself face to face in a number of hospital rooms with a resilient yet lost soul; a woman who had not yet found the resolve to transition from victim to survivor.

Candace Mitchell

We’ll call him Bad Date and every moment up until this one Epic Fail.

“Put me next to any man,” Bad Date was announcing to me and all within hearing range, “and I’ll come up on top. I got two degrees, one from [insert fancy school], the other from [insert another fancy school]. Nobody is on my level.”

50 years ago today a single moment changed a nation. When explosives detonated in the basement of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama just before morning worship services, it not only took the lives of four little girls, but shattered the hearts of those who knew them as well as those who hoped to soon see the Untied States wash away the stain of racial hatred.

Even those of us who believe ourselves to be allies to the LGBTQ community often have blindspots in seeing our own privilege. Being called out on the ways we comply with the oppression of others hurts. It's painful and awkward, but my understanding that all oppression is interconnected compels me to self evaluate constantly.

Jarune at Everyday Feminism offers some important thoughts on "How the Black Community Can be More Supportive of Black Queer Women."

by Takeallah Russell

1. You have the right to wear extensions or a relaxer,without having someone touch your hair without your permission, ask if it is real, or accuse you of denying your blackness and embracing Euro-centric beauty standards.
2. You have the right to wear your hair in natural hairstyles without having someone touch your hair without permission, ask if it is real, or accuse you of being “too black.”

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered an invigorating speech on August 28th, 1963. Coined the “I Have A Dream Speech,” his orations on that day have become a hallmark of eloquent civil disobedience. King’s speech touched on many topics, from voting rights to police brutality, but the most basic principle behind his speech was justice; justice for the black citizens of the United States of America. 

by Ashleigh Atwell

After NAACP president Ben Jealous stepped down this week, there has been speculation over who will be his replacement. Teresa Alston, president of Baltimore's NAACP chapter, expressed interest in having a woman leading the 104-year-old organization. "As a female leader in Baltimore, I think that was a good statement for him to make that a female should be eligible for that position,” Alston told CBS Baltimore. There hasn't been a female president since Hazel Dukes in the early 90s. Here are a few women that are definitely qualified to be in charge of the esteemed organization:

by Simone Craig

by Kioshana Lacount

Like many people of color, I have carried with me the burden of a heavy heart over the last few weeks. My anguish, though originated elsewhere, was only compounded  with what I feel is the wrongful acquittal of George Zimmerman in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin. I have been looking for answers, trying to process this in my mind, trying to make sense of this madness, but everywhere I turn I am confronted with more lunacy. I hear Black people saying that Trayvon’s death doesn’t matter because “Black men kill other Black men every day” and non-Blacks telling me that they feel the killing was justified because, at 6’2 and 158 pounds, Trayvon Martin was an intimidating enough presence that, when provoked by Zimmerman, the use of deadly force was the only viable option to contain him.

By Sharisse Kimbro

Can three scarier words be spoken, especially by a black woman?

I. Need. Help.

You need help. We all need help at one time or another. Life is hard. None of us can make it on our own. Challenges come knocking to everyone’s door. Knowing this universal truth, why is it so hard to ask for help? Why are we so committed to suffering in silence and pretending that everything is always okay, even when at times, it is so terribly not.

Going to the strip club for a night out with friends was never something that appealed to me—that is, until I saw other women doing it.

Nicki Minaj. Rihanna. Diamond. Young B. These celebrities have made going to the strip club a part of their brand, singing about their titty club escapades, posing for Instagram photos with strippers and hosting events as if the strip club were any other venue.

I had a recent encounter with her, you know, that sister who is needy as hell. I was hoping she didn’t see me and with a quick right turn down the other hallway, I would be able to dodge her. But just my luck, before I could attempt my matrix type move, she spotted me.

by Lorrell Kilpatrick

The internet has been buzzing for some time about how white women in general, and Ms. Miley Cyrus in particular, are causing great distress in the universe by daring to shake what their mamas gave (or failed to give) them.  The outrage has come to a head with Miley VMA 2013 performance in which she faux-licked the plushy prosthetic butt of a black female dancer, with many other black female dancers on stage shaking it as well.  Also included in her stage show was grinding against poor, defenseless Robin Thicke as he crooned his age appropriate hit ‘Blurred Lines’ and some unspeakable gyrations all up on Beetlejuice.

Orginally posted at Brown Mommy's

My oldest son is 11-years-old.  He is an avid reader.  Makes good grades in school and has currently taken on the hobby of aqua-scaping (basically he designs fish tanks).  He says his greatest asset is his curiosity.  He always wants to learn.  Naturally, seeing his book smarts when he was a kid we pressed on him that he would be expected to go to college.  So much so that when he would misbehave as a little kid and we asked him why he was misbehaving  he would respond with “I’m just trying to go to college.”  It was hilarious, but we were committed.

I didn't think it was possible, but white folks have managed to take all the fun out of twerking. In my younger days, unfettered rump shaking was one of my favorite past times. As I matured, twerking lost its allure (Not as much fun when you have to get up and go to work in the morning). I do not, however, judge the women and men who still partake, but I feel genuinely bad for those who do.

Because the dance formerly known as “twerking” has become inescapable in the worst way imaginable.

Last Friday during an encore presentation of CBS daytime chat show “The Talk,” comedian Sheryl Underwood inadvertently revealed just how she feels about the skin she's in during a discussion about supermodel Heidi Klum's decision to preserve her biracial children's hair trimmings after cuts.