“I have always planned on going to a college in the U.S., but people have suggested looking at schools in other countries because of the current political climate in the U.S.”
Preparing for my 10-hour commitment, I set my moisturizer, shea butter and laptop on the corner of the mahogany dining room table. As daylight faded into darkness, I sat, parting my freshly washed hair into square sections and attaching the synthetic hair to the roots of my natural hair like my late aunt Holly taught me.
Getting ready to transition out of high school, I am learning much about myself, what makes me happy and most notably about how I undercut myself.
As our first stop on the Youth Theological Initiative “Praying With Our Feet” Travel Seminar, Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, the only church where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. pastored, became a monumental part of our experience, for reasons no one quite expected.
Four black attackers had violated a white boy and were so proud as to post a video on Facebook Live. Our insufficient response they considered confirmation of a sort of “racism, but in reverse.” That got me thinking about racism and what it would look like in reverse, if that is even is possible.
Chris did not deserve the persecution of the people around him. He did not deserve to be pushed to his brink.
Hearing that refugees fleeing terrorism will be denied entry to the United States because they call themselves Muslim, angers me — to say the least. If racism and xenophobia are unfounded weapons President Trump plans to use to bat away terrorism, or at the very least people’s fear of the Other, then we will respond with protest and resistance, with colorful hijabs and Arabic that rolls off the tongue.
My family and I began the 10-hour drive to attend the Women’s March on Washington at 2 a.m. The day we arrived in Washington D.C. was the same day Donald Trump was sworn into office.
Over pancakes at IHOP, my dad expressed that my mom used to sport a “Nautica white, with blue and yellow color blocks, short-sleeve polo,” which epitomizes my style. I often remark that my parents should have kept their non-existent children in mind before they did away with their apparel from their adolescence.
Today I had the pleasure of attending one of the most uplifting events I’ve ever been to in my life. This was the Atlanta March for Social Justice & Women.