Roots & Hope

Soulful Reflections on Faith, Healing, and Young Adulting

Category: black

  • always learning home: being black in the midwest

    Geography ain’t innocent. In the U.S. alone, white colonizers stole and spit on land, partly through mapping, naming, occupying, and defining borders with no regard for Indigenous communities. They committed genocide and displacement while also stealing my ancestors from Africa for centuries of bondage. Within the context of geography, I have long hoped to understand…

  • A Love Note to Black EDUCATORS: My trip to NEw Orleans

    To whom can the title, educator, call home? How is it defined and fully embodied? Questions like these underlie my life’s hope of honoring legacies and possibilities for Black, intergenerational wisdom and healing. In mid-October, a graduate school fellowship brought me back to New Orleans, Louisiana. My first time going was in July 2019. That…

  • When i die

    God, when I die,  will I be able to fly  above the clouds? Will I be able to time  travel and see myself being  born and celebrated?  God, what was the top Hip Hop or R&B song  on my true birth day?  Can that be the soundtrack of my voyage? When I die, will I…

  • 10 REASONS WHY YOU NEED A MENTOR

    1. You will learn that it is beautiful and okay to need support. If none of us ever supported each other, how would we survive? What gifts and stories would we rob people of showing? What aches and fears would we unnecessarily continue to suffer through? How fulfilling was it when you have offered time…

  • things I wish I learned as a kid

    I wish I learned how to swim I wish I learned how to dance I wish I learned that I could enjoy something without being good at it I wish I learned how to color outside of the lines I wish I learned how to fight I wish I learned that adults were still kids…

  • F**k FOMO

    I was never designed to breathe in two places at once. I was never equipped to audition my jealousy for highlight reels without me. I grow empty grieving all the parties, vacations, degrees, relationships, and celebrations I scrolled through but could not live. I’ve been tempted to post every cosmetic thing while privately pleading, “My…

  • Poem for chrissy: the philly jawn

    Sometimes,love means stayingwhere you are rootedand learningto be unashamedof the soilinside your gardeneven thoughit is still litteredwith the historyof broken glassandbroken peoplebroken bywhite supremacy,so brokenthat thoughthey looked like you,they still triedto break your mirror,Black girl. You should havealwaysseen yourself asbeautiful.You should havealwaysbeen protected.You should haveneverhad to healbefore your time. But you, Philly sis,grewinto somethingfar morethan…

  • Before I died, I was verified. Paid with  blue checks, my name spelled wealthy. Once millions liked me and followed me, I had a reason to live.  * I slaved like happy. These Black knees bent. These Black hands spent  seasons on the altar of gods who felt  virtually  real.  These Black fingers pressed keys…

  • Magnetic poetry ft. My fridge!
  • Smells like home

    I miss breathing inside Detroit coffee shops, warm and Black-owned, unworried ’bout cops being called on us, for our being is not a crime. * I miss Detroit Sip on McNichols: affirming words topping tables like cloth, beverages named after neighborhoods like sons and daughters. I miss sharing silence there, making pages and verses with…