The Musings of a Latte Queen: Narratives of Everyday Life

"I'm not ok." Black women have been uttering that phrase in one form or another over the course of this summer. Naomi Osaka and Simone Biles are elite athletes in their respective sports and have placed a spotlight on the expectations placed upon Black women to always be on, always perform, always win. Regardless of the mental, spiritual, emotional, and physical cost. This expectation has been for four hundred years. Black women have been marginalized, demonized, idolized, and demoralized in a country that does not see them as human. Nikole Hannah Jones, earlier this year, made the bold move to not accept the Johnny-come-lately offer of tenure only after UNC was publicly shamed for not giving it to her in the first place. She announced she would instead go to Howard University and be celebrated for her brilliance instead of tolerated for her contributions. Black women this year, after the year of loss of everything that seemed normal in an abnormal world, decided to so so...

  I gave myself a gift a few months ago. It was accidental, honestly. I had to change my Facebook password. When I did it, realized I had to change it on all my devices. The problem, turned moment, was that I forgot what it was. So I did a thing. I deleted it off my iPhone. Then I sat in stunned silence. After all, I manage communications for my job and as a social and racial justice minister, I often engage on social media. It was part life and part work, but I let it go. The silence. It was so welcome, I deleted Twitter off my phone also. Only Instagram remained and primarily for the original use I added it - posting about the literary circle. What happened afterwards was a bit interesting. I began to evaluate how much of my life is consumed. Content. Created. Consumed. No, I do not live a "fake" life to be an influencer, my life is very much real, but how much of it I was sharing began to intrigue me. Long gone were the anticipated rip open of the photo envelope from the l...