Talking About Race in Ballet Class

Looking through the viewing window the first day of my daughters’ ballet class, I’m trying to remember everything I’ve ever told them about race. That time in bed when I explained where skin color comes from to my oldest, then 3, comes to mind first. “Can you say “Melanin?” I asked ....more

Happy New Year!

I have always liked new years because...more

It all Begins and Ends

I have intentionally been silent here as I work on other projects. Though, not a part of my daily life, I do often think of this space and write and reflect on things to add here. Like this ....more

How To Get Unstuck When Writing

It’s really a terrible feeling. Having a hypothetically great end goal for your writing in mind but having no idea how to get there. There’s a name for this ....more

Steak and Potatoes | Writing Does That For Me

Every time that I write here these days, I feel like I am saying the same things. “I’m sorry.” “Will write more soon.” “It’s just that life is so hard, so demanding at times.” But this is not always true. “I’m back…for now…maybe.” But this isn’t always true either ....more

Great love, Great Grief

I wrote this thinking of a friend who recently lost a very close family member.In trying to console her, I was reminded of this. ...more

Why not you?

I am returning to a very long vacation where I engaged in very little social media-ing. Usually when this happens, or when I don’t do social media for an extended amount of time and suddenly do social media when I return this happens: I go on overload. Reading everything I think I’ve missed ....more

It’s never too late

“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing ....more

Don’t be afraid to fail.

“Don’t be afraid to fail. Be afraid not to try.” I learned this week that I am an honoree in the Impact category of Blogher’s Voices of the Year. I received this honor for the essay I wrote for the Washington Post on talking to my then four-year old about police ....more

What It Means To Be A Sister

My three daughters are in their closet desperately searching for my middle daughter’s favorite dress—the oversized pink satin one with glitter and sheer sleeves. “We’re going to pretend ball,” squeals my oldest as she runs past me. Though none of them really understand time, they tell me it’s starting in an hour ....more