Foisting an identity on people rather than allowing them the freedom and space to create their own is shady.

There are things in our blood that are just naturally passed down to us, whether we want to recognize them or not.

I guess it all depends on whom you ask and when you ask. Race, I've learned, is in the eye of the beholder.

Even the juncture in history and the zeitgeist we live in is something we choose, setting the scene for the spiritual fodder we need to grow and achieve deeper elevation of our souls.

For some, excavating the past isn’t an adventure, it’s more akin to tearing a Band-Aid off an open wound.

A mother isn’t the person who births you; it’s the person who rears you and shows you love.

This thing I am feeling, I’m almost certain, is the closest I’ll ever come to standing somewhere in between truth and reconciliation.