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.

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.

Digging Deep Within: An Essay

I’ve been thinking a lot about my life as I do my best to prepare for the gift of fatherhood. As I sit here at my writing desk in the quiet of dawn, I’m processing my journey thus far. My life is beautiful today, but that certainly wasn’t always the case. There were some tough days along the way that I still think about from time to time. It’s interesting how such a joyous occasion could evoke such emotion.

For years I made excuses for the people I loved, even those who perpetually hurt me without remorse or an ounce of consideration. My church preached love without boundaries, reckless forgiveness, and reconciliation at the expense of your own well-being. I built my foundation on these damning principles. I thought it was my job to fix people. I shared the burden of my parents’ missteps. On the surface, it was hard to see they’d lost their way. The multiple evictions, fighting, and accusations of cheating rocked my family. When their toxicity finally bubbled to the surface, my world completely crumbled.

There wasn’t accountability, there was blaming. They fought each other with cannonballs as my sister and I watched from the battle-torn trenches. Caught in the crosshairs of their dysfunction, I felt powerless. Stone by stone, the walls of Jericho fell and all they could think about was themselves. My parents could no longer hide behind their thin veil of perfection.

What do you do when the very people who were supposed to protect you were also turning your life upside down? I vividly remember the pain I felt during our first eviction. I was in high school at the time. We were angrily told to get over it. My sister and I became the collateral damage in their shock and awe campaign. We hotel-hopped, moved around, and struggled to find our footing for years. The truth was buried in a minefield. Trust was breached forever. We were children living in a web of confusion that our parents created. They considered themselves victims in an ugly world, but who really suffered?

While I have consciously made the choice to forgive my parents, I have not forgotten. When I became a man, I confronted them about the hurtful things they’d done. For my own sake, I had to talk to them about it. They never took ownership, but this was the beginning of creating boundaries. Although you move on in life, you never forget. It’s time to start holding the people we love accountable. Enforcing boundaries is the ultimate act of self-love. Boundaries are everything to me.

As the man of my home, I don’t allow venomous energy to enter my home. We close the door on it. If I can’t trust you, we can’t have a relationship. If boundaries are violated there’s nothing left. If you perpetually curate confusion, I cannot build with you. I learned early that some of the most hurtful people can be some of the closest people to you. Perhaps you can relate? Maybe you’re experiencing this today. There’s hope. When I was a young man, I endured. Today, I’ve taken the power back. I’m reclaiming my time and you can too. The beauty in all this is we get to eventually create our own path. We have the power to choose who we will allow into our lives, and how beautiful our lives will become.

I Chose Grace

As the year comes to an emphatic close, I find myself at peace. This peace wasn’t the result of everything going according to plan, or everything working out the way I’d hoped. I’ll be the first to tell you I didn’t accomplish all of the lofty goals I’d set for myself at the beginning of this year. In fact, many of these goals are staring up at me from the inside of my journal reminding me of my humanity as I write this essay. If I judged myself purely on my accomplishments this year, It would be easy for me to admit I fell short.

This piece today isn’t a celebratory lap in the traditional sense. You won’t find any gloating about accomplishments. This piece today is about finding peace in the midst of unfinished business. This composition is about loving yourself right where you are, just as you are despite whether you moved the needle or not. I understand how difficult it is to cut yourself slack. You won’t ever be happy being hard on yourself.

This year, I chose grace. Extending grace to myself was one of the most beautiful gifts I could have ever given myself— it’s one of the most beautiful gifts you can give yourself as you take personal inventory. I found immense peace inside of this grace and it’s my hope that you will too. It’s liberating.

When you think back on this year I don’t want you to spend too much energy focusing on what’s left on the table. Like I always say, the manifestation of greatness takes time. Becoming the best version of yourself takes time. You will reach your promised land if you keep moving forward. Relish the moments you made yourself smile. Think of the small steps forward that made you proud. Think of the little victories that fed your confidence. Think of the moments that made your heart flutter with love. Relish the moments that made you believe in yourself again. As you begin thinking about next year, I want you to put a bigger emphasis on yourself. Choose to be kind to yourself as you bloom.

America Without Black People

After hundreds of years of enslavement, exploitation, and undermining in America, we as Black people find ourselves at an interesting place in history. It’s apparently clear where the line in the sand has been drawn despite America’s identity crisis. We’ve been sold America is this proverbial melting pot of happiness and opportunity for all if you’re willing to put in the work. All people are not afforded these “opportunities.” In fact, Black people have often been reduced to grotesque caricatures and subjects of intentionally skewed statistics based on white lies, white delusions of grandeur, and white self-righteousness. Our oppression is not a fallacy or an excuse. The truth is met with opposition when it doesn’t promote their version of reality. “All you do is talk about race,” they say when the pressure is on. “Black people just want someone to blame for their problems.” I’ve heard it all before. Anti-Blackness is widely accepted and doesn’t appear to be going away anytime soon. In spite of our challenges, we continue to rise.

As a Black man who has been able to appreciate a level of success, I still find myself being pressured to explain how and why I’ve been able to enjoy some of the fruits of my labor as if Black people aren’t supposed to have anything. Odd stares and awkward moments when I answer the door to my home are constant reminders of just how badly the scales have been tipped. I can’t help but laugh at the egregiousness of it all. With that being said, I’ve pondered what would become of America if Black people collectively decided to leave and never return.

While I understand this would never happen, I must be honest I’m intrigued by the thought. Would the nation descend into chaos? Would America be faced with an existential crisis? Who would be the face of the faux “inner city” per capita crime statistics? Where would their red herrings be perched? Without our people and our contributions to society, what would be left? Who would we become as a people if we stopped playing their game, essentially taking the ball and going home? That is the real question here.

Let the truth be known, America is and would be absolutely nothing without Black people. Appreciating and recognizing the importance of Black folks does not diminish other groups of people. While many seek to virtue signal and change the narrative when we seek to understand our history, I’m encouraged by many who are standing up to the double standard. When America decides to adequately address and take accountability for its sin against Black people, only then may we begin to see real progress.

Letting Love Lead the Way

The text message failed again; the call couldn’t be completed as dialed. The number hadn’t been in service for years. I found myself staring down at the phone as if it were not true. Of course, it was true. I wanted to trade the truth for a lie. My heart was exposed. She was gone and there was nothing I could do about it. Grief can easily alter the trajectory of the most well-intentioned day, and for me that day it did.

They said time healed all wounds, but what if time stood still? What if the past was too beautiful to let go of? I stayed to myself and pushed away the very people who wanted to be there for me. I still regret my actions to this day. Love was met with a stone wall. There was a coldness about me that I didn’t recognize. I was far too tough to let people in, even those closest to me.

I’d sit in the dark for hours just thinking of how just one word from my mother could wake me up from the nightmare. She was fine just months earlier, how could this possibly be the story of my life? Mothers weren’t supposed to die before their son’s thirtieth birthday. Mothers weren’t supposed to die before holding their grandchildren. The reality was a painful pill to swallow.

Today, I’m at peace. It took me some time to get there, but I’m thankful. I had to talk to someone; I couldn’t do it on my own. I’m writing this piece today to those who are dealing with the loss of a loved one. Although our stories may be different, the pain is the same.

Don’t let anyone rush you through your process. Some people try to put time periods on grief. You’re allowed to feel without guilt or judgment. I encourage you to be kind to yourself. Let love in and let it lead the way. Love is what gets you through tough days and nights. The road ahead won’t always be easy, but with love leading the way you’re in good hands.