We have far more options for black Americans to tell stories outside of slavery, but whenever it comes to slavery, it's an uncomfortable subject. Why? Because it's the most unresolved subject in American history.
I feel like I missed my era, because I remember the time when black people uplifted each other and looked for the positives. I feel sorry for the people who live their lives in the negative default setting because they filter out what's good, and that's no way to live.
When I was in college, I lived in a mostly black, poor neighborhood. That's where I grew up, but I attended a mostly white upper-class school in conservative Mississippi. I was often very aware of how I presented myself.
I think a lot of L.A. is something like USC - this incredible white culture living in the midst of color, and no obvious reaction to it at all. I mean, they have guards at the gate at USC - guards at the gate of a major university! And the guards chase young black boys away - I've seen it, chasing 8-year-old boys.
I have the utmost respect and 'aloha' for black people - who have already suffered so much due to racial discrimination and acts of hatred.
I like black because it is a vacant space.
You can actually take people with these precancerous lesions, and basically paint black raspberries on them, and they nearly vanish.
I think that everybody has their own interpretations of what it means to be American. But from my vantage point, being black and successful in the Unites States of America is the epitome of being American.
A lot of times, we talk about black people as if being black is all they are. They get up, go to work... and are as complex and interesting and variable as any other group of people. We don't often capture that or write about it.
I wore a 'Black Metal' Venom T-shirt once, in January 1993, to promote black metal, and I regret having done that ever since.
At our peril, we ignore the fact that black vernacular, like the blues, both has a form and performs... For just as there would be no American music without black folks, there would be very little of our American language.
Braids are not new. Black women have been wearing braids for a very long time.
I realize that I'm black, but I like to be viewed as a person, and this is everybody's wish.
The institutionalization of Black Studies, Feminist Studies, all of these things, led to a sense that the struggle was over for a lot of people and that one did not have to continue the personal consciousness-raising and changing of one's viewpoint.
Black Lives Matter has been viral, and people are taking it, appropriating it, and using it however they see fit.
If you're from Virginia, then you know some white people from Poquoson don't like black people.
My first reaction to Trump being elected was a visceral one. I cried for black people in general but, more particularly, for those of us at the margins who have been struggling and who have never received enough support.
Most of all, I dislike this idea nowadays that if you're a black person in America, then you must be called African-American. Listen, I've visited Africa, and I've got news for everyone: I'm not an African.
I swam in the Great Barrier Reef when I was five months pregnant. I went on the bullet train in Japan, which was so much fun, and getting to see Mount Fuji. I did Mykonos and its black volcanic beach. Most of the fun times I've had have something to do with a vacation. I love traveling.
My dad and uncles were among the 125,000 proud black American volunteers who, throughout their entire lives, considered their decision to serve during WWII as their greatest honor.
