2017-04-27
And We Laughed at the Bullets We laughed at the bullets. Thought if our mouths opened wide enough, if our eyes lingered long enough, if our hips danced wild enough, if our shorts stopped fast enough we might find danger. The danger of being illegal. We laughed at the bullets, but we were also laughing...
Read More2017-03-22
What it means to be African American in Sénégal Invisible. When I arrived in Senegal I had the idea that I was going home. Home, that is what everyone called it, from family members to, church woman in bright colored dresses, almost all exclaimed, “you get to go back, you get to see Africa, you...
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2017-01-17
An examination of womanhood in transition What does this picture say to you? Laden with piercings, covered in brass, with skin like midnight leather, she sat before me. She being a Bedik woman of considerable age appeared to me as an image. From her high cheek bones, to the beads that clung with all abundance...
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2017-01-15
Ain’t I a woman? An examination of womanhood in transition What does this picture say to you? Laden with piercings, covered in brass, with skin like midnight leather, she sat before me. She being a Bedik woman of considerable age appeared to me as an image. From her high cheek bones, to the beads...
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2016-09-14
On Visiting Gorée Island by Jabari Kamau Gambrel As the boat rocked against the tide I looked pass the metal rails that bound me to this island and into the water searching for the faces of my ancestors. I imagined them arriving to this place, carrying fear in their bellies and the uncertainty of a...
Read More2016-09-09
As the boat rocked against the tide I looked pass the metal rails that bound me to this island and into the water searching for the faces of my ancestors. I imagined them arriving to this place, carrying fear in their bellies and the uncertainty of a future stolen, in their eyes. I looked into...
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