Rage. I was all set to write about rage and then something washed over me. Grace? Probably not. Probably fatigue. I’m spent, what with all the raging. I remember that there’s a new moon, maybe it transited to a benevolent position when I sat down to write. I want to believe in cosmic forces and benevolent tides. I want to believe in justice served. But it too often arrives cold. Not quite as advertised. Like Read more…
There is a picture, in a box, in a basement, of a little girl that could be this little girl. She is also a little brown girl with a Jamaican father and Asian bloodlines. Her hair is in two identical braids held in place with the same baubles. The baubles come in packs of ten; five sets of colours stretched across a cardboard insert. The photo is also black and white so the colours are Read more…
Oh hair. It’s a busy subject, a hub for much physical judgement. For many women our image is entangled with our tresses. For black women it’s an even knottier affair with as many twists as we have curl patterns. Allow me to unbraid the journey to my current moment of #bighairdontcare. I recently bemoaned to a group of friends my dread at flat ironing my hair for an upcoming audition. Without missing a beat they Read more…
A. sat politely trying to not fuss with the scratchy tulle detail at the collar of her special dress. She still felt the pinch from the last wearing of the pretty, hateful, Christmas present. It was quick and furtive but precisely aimed at the soft inner skin of her upper arm. Although lightening quick mama managed to sustain the pressure to bring her fidgets to heel. Even if an eye had caught the movement, it Read more…
The day just won’t start. Like a cold engine on an early winter morning. The sky is grey and lacks brightness. That is a light lie. Winter mornings can be blindingly bright. The cruel sparkle of frost and ice flash a warning to proceed with care. Everything is on display even our very breath. Winter is a harsh season, its brutality forces deferrals. Like fingers cramped from cold struggling to articulate and untie stiff laces, Read more…
Who doesn’t love a little retail therapy? That rush of dumping a bag full of NEWness onto the bed when you get home? Swiftly finding hangers and a spot in the closet for the new items. I’ve spent an indulgent amount of time folding and refolding a new addition to the T shirt drawer. I have a friend who puts things away with the tags attached so she gets a second bonus rush when she finally Read more…
The sky just opened up. It has been oppressively closed for days; the pressure of humidity weighing on the skin, a heaviness settling behind the eyes and the back of the brain. But now a hard rain falls. Rain so dense it looks like milk teeming down the window. Thunder snaps and roars, it feels like it’s only one or two streets away. It’s a rare kind of rain, sudden and unrelenting, as if on Read more…
I grew up with a set of dates that are so important I knew them as perfectly as my home phone number. July 16, November 5, December 2, December 25, December 26, and December 29. Unlike Easter or Labour Day these dates remained constant and the countdown was as exciting as the day itself. Unilaterally birthdays meant presents. And cake, always cake. It had to be your birthday or Christmas to get the presents but Read more…