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Not Like My Kind: One Man's Experience With Racism
Kiese Laymon remembers on Gawker the summer when he was a graduate student and he and his girlfriend lived below a poor white family. One day, the cash-strapped family patriarch asked Laymon for $10, and then told him that he wasn’t like his “kind.” After he answered all my questions, Kurt got really close to…
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My Head Is a Part of My Body and My Middle Name Is Makeba
As a child, the word “crazy” bounced around every black space I called home. “Crazy” was a destination and an origin. “Crazy” was at once a pejorative and wholly emblematic of our abundance. I loved the word “crazy.” I used it a lot in my oral communication with folks I loved. I used it to…

