Tressie McMillan Cottom On Confronting Racism, Sexism, And Classism
We are more comfortable in our culture talking about the distant past. We love black history; it’s black people we don’t like.
Today is the National Puerto Rican Day Parade. I am watching it on television in Brooklyn while the Puerto Ricans are parading up Fifth Avenue in Manhattan.
The breakfast rush was hitting its peak when we learned about the dead woman lying not far from Table Four.
The woman pouring wine at the reception exchanged a look with me — each of us with arched brows asking the other, You believe this shit?
your legs clasped like irons around his torso pinch me if you need to breathe he says before diving toward the cement floor his long arms gliding like a manta ray keen on kissing the sea bottom your bodies settling into the quiet like an anchor
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