Once upon a time, on a network where a digital stereotype host named Miss Cita lived, there was also a show called Hits From the Streets. It was a silly sketch show on the BET network that sometimes visited popular colleges and coined phrases like âMoo Phi Moo.â The show was kind of dope for its time. It was the yearâŚ
On Dec. 20, 2017, Reggie âCombat Jackâ OssĂŠ died of colon cancer. Itâs difficult, and also feels unfair, to give him a single title. He was so many things to so many people. Not only was he a prolific entertainment attorney, but he was also the founding partner of the Loud Speakers Podcast Network and creator-host ofâŚ
âPowerful black men like Chris Lighty donât shoot themselves. It makes no sense, but somehow there he was, lying in the casket with a bullet in his skull.â This statement, shared by Reggie OssĂŠ, captured many of our original thoughts when learning that hip-hop mogul Chris Lighty died from an apparent suicide in 2012.
Being âtwice as goodâ wonât save you from becoming a target.
What happens to lofty campaign promises after the candidate is no longer a front-runner? Do they dry up like a raisin in the sun? I imagine that the supporters of Vermont Sen. Bernie Sanders who believe in his promises about prison reform have the same question. As former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton continuesâŚ
Iâm a black woman who loves hip-hop. And I donât mean that in an âI have a gym playlist that includes a little Hovâ kind of way. I mean it in the âAt least once a day I use rap lyrics or their song titles to express myselfâ kind of way. Like when Hillary Clinton addressed the audience at the Black Girls Rock! awardâŚ
The holidays are upon us, and the coquito-infused ugly-sweater parties are in full effect. This is the time of year when we are all a little âextra.â We eat, drink and even spend more than we typically do. But this year might be a little different. In support of the call for âjustice or else,â some of us are opting toâŚ
Sometimes, taking off your mask is the hardest challenge you will face in life. Â
When I was young and naive, I loved a man so hard that his flaws disappeared when he smiled. Human nature assured me that he wasnât perfect, but damn it, you couldnât tell me he wasnât one of the greatest men in the world. To my surprise, not everyone shared this opinion of him. When they voiced their opinions, andâŚ
The perceived ownership of a black womanâs body is an issue deeply woven into the fabric of the ugliest pieces of history. This poisonous thinking has not been quarantined to one section of the globe. In the United States, it was this idea of âownershipâ that dominated the thinking of plantation owners and allowedâŚ
Few things in life are harder than witnessing a person you love die a little each day and knowing you donât have a cure. Thatâs exactly what it felt like to be in a relationship with a man who physically survived a violent attack from a police officer but never fully recovered emotionally.
In 2013, after George Zimmerman was acquitted in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin, the U.S. justice system sent a message to the black community: You donât matter.
