The Lost Art of Writing

Remember when we used to write to each other with a pen on a piece of paper? We wrote notes and letters in our everyday communication, we sent cards for every occasion with personalized messages in addition to whatever was pre-printed, and we actually wrote out thank you cards? Everything is electronic now, the art…

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Letting Go of “I’ll Show You!”

Being an overachiever often means an inescapable feeling of inadequacy. Couple that with being a Black woman in the US, and you’ve got a recipe for pathologically setting unrealistically high expectations followed by harsh self-criticism when you inevitably don’t meet those expectations. As a kid, being an overachiever usually meant reaching a predetermined goal that…

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Remember Me?

Today a professor I’ve taken three graduate school courses with, who was my advisor for a year, and whose research I worked on for a bit, didn’t see me as I waved at him from down the hall, as I made not one but two verbal attempts to say ‘hello’ and congratulate him on his…

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Gritaram-Me Negra! [They Shouted, Black Girl!]

**Tinha sete anos apenas, [I was only seven years old] apenas sete anos, [only seven years old] Que sete anos! [what seven years?!] Não chegava nem a cinco! [I wasn’t even five!] De repente umas vozes na rua [when suddenly some voices in the street] me gritaram Negra! [shouted, “black girl!”] Negra! Negra! Negra! Negra!…

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Disengaged but Reconnecting

I got an email today from Tumblr saying Happy 5th Birthday. It’s been five years since I started that blog–since I started blogging period. Which means it’s also been five years since I began a very transformative study abroad experience in Brazil, which was the very reason I began blogging so as to keep my family in touch with what…

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