Democracy Now! Interview on International Women’s Day

After school, my five-year-old daughter Imani and I went to Washington Square Park for a rally and march in honor of girls and women. Imani’s first interview was with The When Project. It went something like this: Q: Would you like to be president someday? A: Yes. Q: What will you do when you are president? A: I will share my money with poor people.   … Continue reading Democracy Now! Interview on International Women’s Day

Mommy, Is Hate a Bad Word?

I became a mother accidentally. I had decided at some point in my turbulent twenties that I would not birth children, for fear that they would be too much like me. Nor had I ever planned to adopt. Children would be incompatible with the life of travel and abandon which I had dreamed up for myself for as long as I could remember, and which … Continue reading Mommy, Is Hate a Bad Word?

DeVostation Blues

As I bid goodbye to the security guards and make my way through the crowd of students who always linger for a few minutes after school, smoking cigarettes and teasing each other, I feel alone and broken, enraged by the confirmation of an unqualified, miseducated billionaire to lead the department for which I work and on whose decisions depend the lives of millions of America’s … Continue reading DeVostation Blues

The Urgency of Now

I want to write about the ban, about Bannon, about all the ways we’ve fought in just these two short weeks. I want to write a whole piece just about the drums and chanting at the march from Battery Park to Foley Square the other afternoon that lasted into the night. The crowd had again far exceeded the expectations of the organizers and the police. … Continue reading The Urgency of Now

I Am an American

I am an American. Because when the principal told me to take off my earrings and stop using the yellow ruled paper, I told her I wouldn’t. Because I was free. I told her what difference did it make the color of the paper on which I was writing compositions and formulas that were earning me excellent marks. I liked the yellow paper, and the … Continue reading I Am an American

To My Sisters of Color

My skin color speaks of a history of unforgivable wrongs, of oppression injected into the bone marrow of people who look like you, like my husband and children. My skin color tells stories of slave owners, juries and judges who send young boys to prison for life, police officers who shoot, beat, and choke innocent men, women, and children to death, those who seek to … Continue reading To My Sisters of Color

L Train to Resistance

Forgive me, Imani, for leaving tonight. Forgive me for spending so few minutes lying beside you, my palm resting gently on your burning chest. Forgive me for not being able to slow down, with my touch, or my own even breathing, the fierce beating of your heart, trapped in an abode on fire. Forgive me for not delivering the inspirational speech I had recited to … Continue reading L Train to Resistance

Women Rising

When women unite, we part seas and move mountains. When women stand together, even the wealthiest of men in the world can’t afford to build a mightier wall. When women’s voices rise in a collective roar, the only way to survive our fierceness is to agree to listen. Women have always come together in the face of destruction. But the tsunamis, earthquakes, and tyrants that … Continue reading Women Rising