I recently got back from attending a race and policy symposium sponsored by the Students of Color in Public Policy from the University of California, Berkeley’s Goldman School of Public Policy. I had the distinct pleasure of being the keynote speaker for their conference, titled, “Reclaiming Our Time: The Importance…

All my life I had to fight. That’s not true, but you can’t say “all my life” and NOT add “I had to fight” if you’re black and over a certain age. Shoutouts to The Color Purple and Miss Sophia. Hey, Oprah, boo.

Black Panther premieres to the general public this week. And as we all already know, it will be the blackity, black, black, black, black, black, blackest thing that will ever happen in the history of black people, blackness and people. So black that instead of ticket stubs, the box office will give you a reparations…

Last night, the Yara Shahidi-led vehicle Grown-ish debuted. For those not in the know, it’s a spinoff from hit ABC show Black-ish that focuses on Shahidi’s character, Zoey, and her journey from super-sheltered private school student to college freshman in this millennial world. Comparisons to A Different World will…

A few weeks ago, the fashion world swooned upon learning that Rihanna would be a host of the 2018 Met Gala, themed to coincide with the Costume Institute’s upcoming exhibit, “Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination.”

“I’m rooting for everybody black.”

Ah, #TheCookout. That grand bastion of blackness where nobody ever reneges during spades, and the brown liquor, Popeyes chicken and red Kool-Aid or McDonald’s sweet tea never runs out. The cookout is a mythical place where all are gathered in both Jesus’ (and Allah’s and ... well you get the point) and blackness’s…

One truism in life, my brother, is that white people do not believe in personal space. Another, my brother, is that white people love to speak to black people (not sure how the other colored communities fare) about lots of random shit that we probably don’t feel like talking about ’PACIFICALLY when we don’t feel like…

Warning: There will be spoilers. You have been warned. If you haven’t seen it yet, get your life.

My older brother watched Dragon Ball Z every day growing up, and I still hear young black men talking about it all the time. On the train, I hear black teenage boys sharing their takes on Dragon Ball fighting games. When I meet black men my age, ones who scoff at my love of anime, they still know what I’m talking…

In the 16 years that I’ve lived in the Washington, D.C., area, I’ve witnessed it go from Chocolate City to Latte City. Sure, the blackness for which the city is known is still present symbolically, but ain’t nothin’ but white folks at the Brixton, living in the Ellington and hangin’ at Marvin on every other day but…

Dear L.J.,

Deon Cole had something in his heart that he needed to get out. See, he came to Atlanta during Spelhouse and Clark Atlanta homecoming this past weekend (it really was, or felt like, every damn school in the metro Atlanta area’s homecoming this weekend) and came to a very stark but important realization.

So Waka Flocka took to Instagram over the weekend to double down on comments in which he insisted that he is not black.

Is it a cop? Is it a cab? Is it just some bamas from Suitland, Md.? We don’t know. We just know they’re in the rearview and we’re just gonna do the speed limit and obey all the traffic laws until they pass us.

Hi. I’m black and I’m a man. That makes me a black man (by default), and that means I’m paranoid as fuck. Like, I’m pretty sure you’re plotting against me right now, so I’m looking at you crazy. Or at least you might could be. In fact, who is you? Is you is or is you ain’t my constituency?

I am not afraid of stereotypes. I know that many of them are rooted in racism and false perception, but I do not concern myself with that. I embrace them. They are funny to me.

This week, some folks hate their blackness, while others who aren’t black embrace blackness with open arms! Who am I talking about? Well, first ... let’s dig into rapper Kodak Black, just a little bit. (I say “a little bit” because I literally know nothing about him and I don’t care enough to do research.)

In February of 2012, a month after I began working for EBONY.com, they asked if I wanted to go to Milwaukee to witness and write on the unveiling of a Black bikers exhibit at the Harley-Davidson museum. Although I had zero interest in motorcycles, I accepted. It was an all expense paid trip to a city I'd never been to…

Following the election, my Facebook feed lit up with threats of a #blaxit, which excited the hell out of me since I had #blaxited a few years prior. In 2013, I moved from New York City (Where Brooklyn At?) to Geneva, Switzerland, after my wife secured a position at an international organization. Four years later,…