Mixed-Race in the Time of Civil Unrest

I am a mixed-race woman in America. My dad is black and my mom is white. I’ve spent my entire life trying to navigate my racial identity as a person who is two things at once. But because of my skin color, I don’t seem to be on this journey alone. There have been so many times, too many to count, where I have been made to feel like I was not black enough. From how I would dress, to what music I listened to, to how I wear my hair. But somehow… somehow I am also not white enough. I’m not white enough because of how I dress, what music I listen to and how I wear my hair.

Now, with all that in mind, I am fully aware of the privileges I have been given because of how I was raised; for what my parents have been able to provide for me and my brother. I always had money for lunch and summer camps to attend. I went to a good University and got a college education. I have a good job and I can afford my rent. I have parents who can financially support me if needed, or if it’s not needed. I grew up in a house that has always felt like a home. I know I am privileged in many ways. But the one way in which I am not privileged is that of White Privilege.

I don’t have the privilege of learning about race instead of experiencing it. I have been the only friend of color. The only roommate of color. The only family of color in the neighborhood. The only coworker of color. The only woman of color. I have been the only person of color in that entire room. I have joked with my black friends or family about getting seated in the back of a restaurant, only to understand that that joke is not actually a joke. I have walked into a room and immediately started counting how many people of color there are only to be able to account for them on 1 hand.

I identity myself as black, but not every else does. I have so many unwanted passengers on this journey with me that it can become nearly impossible to navigate where I’m going. I have had people randomly come up to me and start speaking to me in Spanish because they assume I am Latina. They don’t assume that I am black. I have had people talk about my race to my face and behind my back. People look at me and they can’t immediately put me into a box or put a label on me.

But by questioning my race/ethnicity, you are taking away my identity. It is mine and mine alone and I am taking it back. You don’t get to question it. Just like you don’t get to question why black people all over the country are protesting. Or wonder why our peaceful protests can turn into violence. Possessions can be replaced, human lives cannot.  I am saying this all so that you will hear me and I hope that you are listening.

Because of my mother, my extraordinary mother, I am white. And because I am white, I am told that my life matters by default. But because of my equally extraordinary father, I am also black. And guess what, my life still matters. I stand with every single person out there who is educating, protesting, listening, speaking, petitioning and voting. I stand with every single person risking their lives to create a better tomorrow. And I hope you stand with me.

For more information and ways you can help, please visit the link below:

Truth is Hell

I wanna tell you what my truth is but it’s buried down inside.

“dream” – Bishop briggs, “church of scars” (2018)

To tell you the truth, I haven’t written on this blog in a year. In fact, it’s been a year and 5 days since I’ve written.

The truth is the reason I was writing so much in 2018 we because I was incredibly unhappy and writing was the only thing that helped me get through it.

Honestly, the reason I haven’t been writing now, is because I’m in a much better place than I was before. I’ve been finding fun and beauty and happiness in life again and that’s why I haven’t written.

But to tell you the truth, I should write about the good things just as much as the bad. The good is just as important to my growth as a person. Life isn’t all about the down. It includes the upside, the sunshine and the days that just fly by.

Honestly, I wish I had written more over the past year because I have a lot to say and a lot to share.

Truth may be hell but life doesn’t have to be.

Write No Matter What

Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.

Louis L’Amour

I haven’t written anything in a while because I haven’t had anything to write about. But that’s about to change. This year is for writing more and writing better. For writing honestly and openly.

For simply writing. I just have to start.

Old vintage typewriter, close-up.

I Want You to Be Happier…

Lately, I’ve been…I’ve been thinking I want you to be happier. I want you to be happier. 

Marshmello ft. Bastille

This song has been playing on repeat lately. And it’s because I want myself to be happier. Finding happiness isn’t always easy. And sometimes you don’t even realize how happy you were until it’s gone. 

Lately, I’ve found happiness evading me in certain aspects of my life and I’m working to get it back. It’s been incredibly hard. Some days are harder than others, but I have to remind myself that one day, I’ll find it. 

One day, happiness and I will be friends again. We’ve just drifted apart for a while. But we’ll find our way back to each other. 

*Disclaimer: This music video is incredibly sad.

Deep Breath

It’s been a trying few weeksYouth
Few months is more like it
I’ve come to the conclusion
That sometimes
We have to do the things
We don’t want to
That’s just the way it is
And it’s harder than it seems
I’d like to say
It would be easy
Not to do things
And sometimes it is
Sometimes it is
But right now
It’s not
It’s hard
And the days feel long
And the weeks are taxing
But the day eventually ends
And a new one starts
And one of these days
Will be the start
Of everything

Patience listens up

When I’ve run out of words to say, sometimes all it takes is a little help from your friends. Please enjoy this collaboration with a fellow writer and a dear friend.

And please do yourself a favor by checking out his blog.

All this thunder

Hi All,

A fun change this month – a new look! Collaborator/longtime friend/cousin Katie Hands graciously shared her work for this post in addition to tips on site design. Katie is a wonderful writer, and hosts her own blog, here. Please take a look.

This month we focused in on the theme of Patience – one that both of us have been wrestling through lately. It’s a trying time. As we know. The search for patience can sometimes feel like a lost cause. However, time takes its time. Brighter days. The revolution must be joyous.


Days gone by
by Katie Hands

There are many things
I never told you
Because I didn’t take the time

The words spilled out
Inside my head
Drowning out the rest

Those words I spoke
But didn’t speak
Haunt me to this day

There are many things
I should have said
But couldn’t…

View original post 315 more words

Love Yourself

I think I could learn to love you

I think I could learn to love

I think I could learn to

I think I could learn

I think I could

I think I

I think


I think

I think I

I think I could

I think I could learn

I think I could learn to

I think I could learn to love

I think I could learn to love myself

Tunnel Vision

There are times in my life when things get especially hard, when the weight of the world crushes down on my shoulders, back and chest. When it gets hard to swallow and the tears threaten to break forth. When the world outside is cold and unforgiving. Now, feels like one of those times. It’s a time when I can no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel. When the tunnel is just a tunnel and the tunnel is never ending.

But, I find that surrounding myself with things that bring their own light to my life, then I at least have a flashlight to guide me within the tunnel. One that shines on the dark spaces and reveals them for what they really are. Simply cracked, grey concrete.

The idea to break through with force and with rage is appealing. But it’s not the only way. I’ve found that if I keep enough battery in the flashlight, if I keep feeding it with the little things that I love, I will eventually find my way out of this tunnel and into the sunshine. To feel the wind on my face or the spray of the sea.

Because I know it’s waiting for me to reach it and to tell me that this, too, shall pass, eventually. So I’m taking the steps to get there, one at a time, flashlight in hand.

No Time At All

It’s been a while, I know.

But then again, a while is subjective, isn’t it?

The same goes for a minute.

Although it’s really just 60 seconds

Out of an infinite number of seconds

We say it when we feel like it’s been much longer.

But a minute is finite

Just like the days, months and years that pass us by

It’s just 60 seconds in 1 minute

60 minutes in an hour

24 hours in a day

7 days in an week

4 weeks in a month

12 months in a year


And yet…

The days grow longer

And the years become shorter

And the lifetime’s you had in the past

Are just a jumping off point for all the lives waiting in your future.

So, maybe it’s been a while

But maybe it’s really been no time at all.