Listen, God loves everything you love, and a mess of stuff you don't.

(a womanist) 3. Loves music. Loves dance. Loves the moon. Loves the Spirit. Loves love and food and roundness. Loves struggle. Loves the Folk. Loves herself. Regardless.

No song or poem will bear my mother's name. Yet so many of the stories that I write, that we all write, are my mother's stories.

It's better to have your blackness taken away than to stand there and lie about who you actually are. That's the trap.

The world is changing. It is no longer a world just for boys and men

My mother had handed down respect for the possibilities...and the will to grasp them.

Sometimes, reading a blog, which I do infrequently, I see that generations of Americans have been wilfully crippled, and can no longer spell or write a sentence.