Power to the People: An Essay

King cotton made many rich as they violently exploited and used our bodies to fuel the American economy. We built this nation. They’d rather burn books and indulge in revisionist history than make atonement. History speaks for itself and it tells a damning story. America’s cold shoulder and unwillingness to right its wrongs is not only disgustingly arrogant and cowardly, but sinful by their own accord. They conveniently use the bible and faux Christian values to commit psychological warfare and crimes against humanity. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book.

Cowardly attacks on our institutions and establishments have ramped up as white supremacy seeks to devour everything and everyone it deems unworthy. Diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives have dried up across the nation. The Trump administration is pushing this merit narrative. There is no real merit system in this country. Our kakistocratic government is all the proof you need. Many in leadership haven’t earned a damn thing. The Signal group chat fiasco is a prime example of how gross incompetence in critical roles can have material consequences.

Is America great? If you ask white America at large, many will tout its greatness. I’ve encountered a few people who see nothing wrong with what’s happening in the country. The constitutional crisis many legal scholars have hinted at is here as the Trump administration defies the courts. I don’t know if it’s delusion or willful ignorance, either way it’s fucked up. There is certainly an undeniable crisis of character here in the United States. Many Americans are unhinged, uncultivated, vile, racist, and grossly entitled. When Trump, a felon, racist insurrectionist, was elected again, it told me everything I already knew. America doesn’t give a damn about real progression. Our allies have distanced themselves from us. Unnecessary trade wars and threats of imperialistic campaigns are just the tip of the iceberg. Black people have always been hip to the charade. America pretends to be a pillar of justice and strength while eating its own. Many are now in the find out stage.

My father texted me a few months ago to express his thoughts on the election. As a hopeless optimist, he passionately lectured me about the resolve of the American people despite the daunting terrain ahead. In his eyes, all things could be overcome, including another disastrous four years of Trump. While I can certainly appreciate where he was coming from, perhaps pessimism has clouded the lens through which I view the world. I’m still angry about November.

Those who hate Black people and other minority groups are unwilling to see the proverbial red dot on their heads through the political theatrics and smoke screens. The effects of bad politics have downstream consequences. In an oligarchy, everyone outside of the elite is targeted. Voting has consequences, and many are learning this the hard way as civil rights are beginning to be openly attacked and rolled back.

In closing, many of us understand the gravity of the times. Silence is not an option. We must protect our interests, institutions, and rights with our voices. Each one of us has the power to effect change, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. Learn how laws and bills are passed. Knowledge is power. I know we’ve been fighting all our lives, and it’s exhausting. We can’t give up or give in because that’s what they want. Your peace of mind and health are of the utmost importance. Keep your head up, remain watchful, get involved peacefully, and vote.

We Shall Not Be Moved: An Essay

January felt like the longest month of my life. Although that’s hyperbole, it’s legitimately how I feel. The events of the last two weeks have been unprecedented. The open attack on democracy couldn’t be clearer. Our elected officials appear to stand by idly as the President manically dismantles, disrupts, and destroys the legislative, judicial, and executive branches of Government. With the recent unlawful firings of inspector generals, ladies and gentlemen his uncultivated revenge tour has officially commenced. We’re in dangerous territory make no mistake about it. In addition to his negligent incompetence, he’s used a tragedy to disparage diversity by blaming DEI for the tragic accident involving a United States Army Blackhawk and an American Eagle CRJ operating as flight 5342. The cabinet of the unqualified have made their unsystematic desire to conquer and divide known.

Black people, we know what it means to be resilient. We didn’t make it this far without our community, faith, and an unrelenting desire to rise above the ails of white supremacy. This monster is not unfamiliar to us. This sickness wishes to erode our psyche and pound us into submission, but as our ancestors once said, we shall not be moved. As the nation continues to openly ignore our achievements and the impact we’ve made on this nation, we must never forget ourselves. This coordinated attack only emphasizes our greatness. Let them attempt to cancel Black History Month, but let it be known, that every day is a celebration of Black excellence.

But how do we cope and maintain our mental health as the nation appears to be falling apart at the seams? How do we continue to relish in our strength when the weight of the world sits atop our shoulders? How do we continue to live amongst those who’ve made it abundantly clear we’re not worth a damn? These are the questions I’ve often asked myself.

We move forward in strength by choosing not to give in to their ignorance. Now more than ever we must protect our peace. This has been my theme for 2025. I know these burdens feel daunting. Some days we’re exhausted beyond measure but we must keep our heads up. Rest is of the utmost importance. Disconnecting from the negativity is a must. Choosing not to engage with rage baiters and the uneducated online is paramount. Above all revel in the love of self like a tree planted in fertile soil. Our soul needs love— our souls need each other. We are a beautiful people. May we never forget who we are.

Clear and Present Danger

I said I wasn’t going to do it. I told myself to leave politics alone; nothing good ever comes from it. But, got damnit I’m furious. I’m angry we’re here again after all that’s been said and done. How could millions of people willingly vote this type of maniac into the highest office of the land? It’s obvious White supremacy is in high demand. I’ve answered my rhetorical question. The truth shall certainly free us, but there are days when progression feels more like a fallacy.

Anxiety is on high alert around the nation as Trump attempts to disrupt lives with each stroke of his pen. He salivates over executive orders as if they were medium rare steaks; he’s a gluttonous fascist with an appetite to conquer and divide. While I refused to tune into the inauguration, I did choose to stay abreast of policy decisions and movements. Trump is a clear and present danger. With the recent rollback of the 1965 Equal Employment Opportunity Act, he’s hell-bent on fulfilling Project 2025, the same plan he claimed to have nothing to do with during the campaign.

From his unqualified cabinet picks to his strange obsessions with Billionaires, Musk, Bezos, and Zuckerberg have no place in government. We are swiftly moving toward an oligarchy—some would say we’re already living in one. I’m tired. If you’re reading this, I believe we share similar sentiments.

Where do we go from here? How do we protect our mental health as our rights continue to be violated? How do we remain encouraged when progress declines? We must guard our hearts and minds during these times. I refuse to let this clear and present danger rob me of my peace of mind. Each day I’ve decided to stay informed without feeding into negative drama. There will be many days of uncertainty, division, and gloating from those with reprobate minds. We mustn’t be moved by those desperate sycophants who’ve voted against their interests. We must stay armed with knowledge as we come face to face with coordinated disinformation campaigns.

Stay strong, watchful, and informed. We must continue to demand equality. Let your voice be heard by writing to your elected officials. Passivity is the enemy of progression. Vote every chance you get. We will not be denied if we remain unified. The days ahead will feel daunting and difficult, but may I remind you that we’ve made it through tough times before, and this time will be no different.

Shameless: An Essay

People. Damn. Why would they say that? Who knows? What were they thinking? They probably weren’t. No empathy, respect for others or self as far as I’m concerned. Evil deeds, violence, and a blatant disregard for civility appear standard. If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s people being people. They utter ugly words without fear of reproach; they speak before thinking and insult before seeking to understand.

As a Black man, I’m familiar with the uglier side of humanity as were my ancestors. With the evolution of social media, which in my opinion, has helped to assist in the perpetual decay of social standards, how do we create safe spaces? The system is architected to display controversial takes that stimulate traffic. The machine is always at work. Bots and rage baiters thrive in these environments as their posts become beacons to rally the pitchfork-armed mob. This mob leaves a trail of lifeless doxed bodies of those who once only wished to share their thoughts. This is why we need our own spaces as the spaces we’ve created on these platforms are often infiltrated. We’re no strangers to these matters as descendants of the survivors of the Middle Passage and Jim Crow segregation— we’re resilient.

Social media companies have abandoned their responsibilities. Government leaders have gleefully cosigned the decline of society as their pockets grow fatter off of the dissension. Where is their shame? It would be intellectually and culturally dishonest for me to declare these are new problems. They’re not. It’s the manifestation of these cultural and societal issues that’s changed. Conflict has always been a part of the human experience and I don’t see that changing. I’ve focused on learning how to navigate this landscape without losing myself.

We must prioritize our mental well-being. It’s paramount that we do this during these complicated and uncertain times. As conflict on all fronts seeks to dominate our lives, it’s important that we center ourselves and create an environment of harmony. We must create and enforce our boundaries. It’s okay to disconnect when overwhelmed. Avoid petty disagreements and perpetual communication with people who reveal they aren’t interested in civil discourse. The next few years will certainly test our resolve. The shameless amongst us have an operating charter they do not wish to alter. I encourage us all not to play their game.

My Thoughts for the New Year

There weren’t fireworks. If there were, I didn’t see or hear them. I don’t think I like them very much anymore anyway. Life can be hilarious at times. I didn’t bring in the new year taking sweet inventory of my life while sipping blush Martinelli sparking cider with my family. No, I wasn’t writing my new goals in my favorite journal in front of the fireplace smiling at the thought of how great 2025 would be. I was in bed wondering how I could’ve gotten sick during my favorite time of the year.

It happens to the best of us; I certainly needed the rest. A New Year is a symbol of new hope and opportunity. It’s a new beginning. Now that I’m better, I’ve processed what 2025 will represent for me. In years past, I’d created a lengthy list of goals that were often undefined, unrealistic, or impossible to meet. Nowadays I keep it simple. I have three goals that I will spend this year working toward. They’re smart and focused goals that can be achieved. I’ve taken the pressure off myself.

I’ve emphasized enjoying life and living in the moment as much as possible. The recent New Orleans terrorist attack is a stark reminder of how fragile life can be. My heart goes out to all the families affected by this heinous act. In less than twenty days Trump will take office. I’ve mentally prepared for the confusion and turmoil that will seep from his presidency.

One of the best things we can do as we enter this season is give ourselves grace. Feed your mind things that uplift your spirit. Go where you’re watered. Remember to make yourself a priority because you matter too. Don’t allow others to disrupt your flow. Remove anything that robs you of your autonomy and peace of mind. You’re in the driver’s seat, you have the right to decide where you’ll be planted and how you’ll make a difference in the lives of those around you. Happy New Year.

Fallacy of Greatness

The desert landscape is enchanting. It’s become my sanctuary. My soul loves nature; my soul is at peace amongst the mountains. Dawn’s early light began to dance along the edge of the peak that gracefully towered above my community. Folks waved and uttered their salutations as I jogged by. I was in stride. Everything was clicking; my body felt great with each mile. I slowed my cadence as I reached the end of the block when I noticed a “Make America Great Again” sign in someone’s yard. This wasn’t uncommon as Arizona has always been considered a conservative state. I chuckled at the possibility of Trump being elected again. We’re better than that as a nation. Sure, America has its glaring flaws but we wouldn’t dare go down that path again.

Last night, I sipped tea at my writing desk as I watched the live election broadcast. The polling numbers flashed on the screen as each state began reporting results. Trump’s early lead concerned me, but there was plenty of time. As the night continued, his lead grew. This can’t be right, I thought. How could we find ourselves here again after the insurrection, multiple lawsuits, and documented crime convictions? To put it bluntly, Trump encapsulates all that is wrong with this country; he is America personified.

Tuesday night showed me America simply does not wish to progress. The fact Trump was even allowed to run again after a myriad of moral, political, and legal failures, highlights the fallacy of America’s greatness. Open racism, police brutality, sexism, classism, intolerance, and faux Christian values appear to be its guiding principles. The American justice and political systems continue to fail the people. As a Black man, of course, I knew this. As Black people, we are intimately aware of the systems at play.

Sadness, anxiety, and uncertainty sweep the nation as I write this essay. It’s okay to be angry. I know it’s hard to see a path forward right now. I ask you to protect your mental health. Prioritize taking care of yourself. Guard your heart and mind with everything within you. Don’t give in to the bullshit. Distance yourself from those who wish to burden you. We will be okay. Today we mourn, tomorrow we fight.

Black Woman

I’m glad you’re here; please come in. I’ve been waiting for you, Queen. I’ve prepared a comfortable chair just for you. It’s made of the finest leather. Let me cater to you. Rest your feet and your mind as I share my heart. The world hasn’t been too kind. We haven’t always protected you and for that I’m sorry. To ignore our complicated history would be damnatory. Our treacherous journey from the Gold Coast has muddied the waters of our love. I’ve seen what you’ve gone through.

What are your dreams? What are you feeling? What are your fears? How can I love you better? Have you eaten? Do you like wine? Let me pour you a glass of my finest Chardonnay as I listen to you with my ears and soul. This piece was written to honor, celebrate, and uplift you. Your cries in the darkness often went unheard. Your thoughts, feelings, and issues matter. You’re brilliant and in a league of your own. There are so many examples of your brilliance, it’s woven into the fabric of our lives.

Your beauty is deeper than your outward appearance; I could bask in your essence all day. There’s something about your smile that makes everything alright. The calm in your voice makes our deepest pain easier to bear. When you speak, nature listens. When you move, things change. Every shade of your Blackness is majestic. While many try, you cannot be duplicated. You’re poetry in motion, the embodiment of God’s love and grace.

Every inch of your shea-buttered body is heaven on earth. Your embrace gives us hope, and your presence lights up the world. Please don’t ever let anyone make you feel inferior. There aren’t enough words in the English lexicon that adequately describe all that you are.  

Cult of Personality

“You’re in sin when you don’t listen to the man of God. I’m your shepherd,” my pastor shouted. His piercing words and indignant expression were difficult to misinterpret. His unjustified anger and narcissism led him to believe every word he spoke was ordained by God himself. “lf you disagree with me, you’re disagreeing with God!” The feedback from the mic almost resembled the sound of a lightsaber. He’d just unclipped a red lightsaber from his waist holster seeking to destroy the Jedi as he peered around the sanctuary. Well, that’s how it felt at least. That’s about all I remembered from that particular Sunday. It was just like all the others that came before it. With my cell phone slung low between my legs, I often surfed the web to thwart my growing disinterest.

My relationship with the church and religion as a whole had been a rocky one. I’ve questioned my faith and God himself more times than I’d care to admit. Most people who’d known me most of my life would have easily considered me a church boy who could do no wrong, but little did they know I struggled to find happiness in the faith.

Honesty eluded me for years as I went through the motions. The constant cycle of guilt and zeal eventually seized my wavering faith. My identity was wrapped in the church; my dearest friendships were cultivated in the church. Debates about doctrine often lead to arguments. Could I share what I’ve been feeling? Perhaps not. It’s difficult for people to accept others' points of view. There’s a unique arrogance that oozes from people in the church. Their entitlement prevents honest discourse. From diapers to manhood, my life was deeply entrenched in the church. My father preached the gospel although he lived a double life. I often wonder if those who teach and preach the word believe themselves.

Have you ever found yourself questioning what you truly believe? I’m no longer afraid of the unknown. There are more questions than answers and that’s okay. Don’t fear condemnation fanned by haughty individuals who believe they’ve got all the answers. This journey of faith is a complicated one. I’m still figuring out what it all means.

America’s Sin

We were five miles away. My anticipation grew as the city drew near. I’d never been there before; I didn’t know what to expect. Distracted by my gnawing uneasiness, I hadn’t noticed the change in scenery. For hours as far as the eye could see, the wide open midwestern plains had once made its presence known. I exited the freeway toward downtown Tulsa, Oklahoma. That city, oh that city, was full of rich Black history, triumph, and sorrow. Tulsa was a stark reminder of one of America’s sins— a sin it had conveniently ignored.

Walking through Greenwood was both surreal and gut-wrenching. Soulful murals and carefully placed monuments reminded all never to forget the massacre that took place in the spring of 1921. Remnants of that fateful day, hidden in plain sight, stood unbothered as America vehemently refused to right its wrongs. The destruction of Black Wall Street was one of many sins committed against Black people. I could feel the presence of the ancestors as I imagined living in the community. To be surrounded by successful Black businesses, beautiful homes, and families who’d finally felt at peace as their dream of living without fear had been realized would’ve been invigorating.

Angry whites who lusted after Black death and destruction, determined to halt this renaissance of Black prosperity and progression, murdered without repentance. Bullets rained down from prop duster aircraft. The streets were overrun with savages who had one thing on their mind. The stench of death filled the air as chaos ensued. Dead bodies filled the street. Children screamed as they ran with their parents searching for cover as shotgun shells clanged against the pavement. Black men and women grabbed their weapons as they fought to protect their families, homes, and businesses. I stepped into the past and asked myself what I’d do if I were there. I could not fathom such a day; my heart ached.

On Wednesday, June 12th, the Oklahoma Supreme Court dismissed a lawsuit filed by the survivors of the Tulsa Massacre. Although I felt angry, I knew nothing would come of it. America will never reach its truest potential until it deals with the past accordingly. They use legality to avoid taking responsibility. How can the nation parade itself as a symbol of freedom, justice, and hope? The Tulsa race massacre survivors and their families deserve better.

Self-Love Chronicles

You heard what they said. How could you forget? Those painful nasty words cut you deeply. “It’s just a joke,” they say conveniently. You take things too personally. You’re just imagining things. Sound familiar? You heard the snide remarks that were camouflaged as unsolicited advice. Their muffled laughter when you were down was undeniable. Your mistakes and missteps were the topic of brunch conversations. Your brightest moments were met with one-word emotionless halfcocked congratulatory texts. Whispers in the dark always seem to find their way back. They laughed nervously when you confronted them. They’re still around because it’s hard to let go of people who aren’t good for you and your mental health.

How do you find the courage to let go of people who continually gnaw at your self-worth? Damaging words have consequences, or at least they should. Setting and enforcing boundaries is an intimate act of self-love. Without boundaries, we’re just floating in the wind accepting whatever blows our way. You’re worth more than that. People who continually push the envelope should no longer have access to you. You know who they are.

A few years ago, I discovered a distant family member had made unsavory comments about me and my family. This person had a history of propping themselves up as a perpetual victim. If it weren’t about them they just simply weren’t happy or didn’t care at all. Often they were the author of confusion and confronting them usually made matters worse. I’ve helped this person out more times than I can count. It was exhausting maintaining a relationship with a person who only thought about themselves. Loving from a distance is an act of self-love as well.

Embrace the people in your life that continually show up. Water the relationships that bring out the best in you. May we each find the courage to protect our self-worth and energy this year. Self-love isn’t a fancy cliché it is a way of life.