So there we were at my graduation cocktail party, 5 junior doctors of African origin taking centra stage as camera flashes captured our beaming faces…
Category: Monday Musings
Both companion and enemy. Both measured and warped speed. Sometimes too much and often too little.
The month designated to packaging thousands of years of Black history and culture into a palatable melting pot of ‘facts’ supposedly beginning with colonialism and ending with Harriet Tubman freeing slaves.
And yet, despite being a month that should encourage honest conversations about how far we’ve come and how far we still are from truly embracing Equality and Diversity, Trump-mania is on the rise, #IAmMogadishu is not a thing and last week a stranger matter of factly stated that being Pro-Black is the same as being anti-White.
No. It is not.
Because when my little sister held her arm up to compare her gorgeous mahogany skin aside my lighter complexion and questioned her afro puffs, the familiar gnaw of watching a young Black girl grow up in a society that places limitations on her beauty and Blackness resurfaced.
And so in response her current and future self… an ode to the Skin I’m In.