Rogers created a neighborhood that was united by values and seemingly impervious to racial animus and urban crisis, a neighborhood that fit better in his imaginary world than in the one inhabited by the millions of Americans who tuned in.
People pouring into the streets, crying publicly at award shows and TV interviews, showed me that I didn’t need to cry in the closet or the bathroom. That there was nothing to be ashamed of.
America already has a dark history of state-sanctioned violence on Black and brown bodies for medical experimentation, particularly on those living in poverty and under government control. And we stood as idly by then as we do now.
“Miss Major is not your token. You need a token? Well, go to the subway and buy one and get on a fucking bus.”
The statement T-shirt for, by, and about black folks seems to be having a renaissance.
Wilson wrote a few pieces that were remarkable in their early focus on Black people in a region that was, then and now, more diverse than contemporary stories of its white poverty and Trumpian politics imagine.
They were part of a civil rights movement with broad aims and an economic justice focus that has gone less valorized in history than lunch-counter activism and voting rights crusades.
Grandma Daniels rejected the idea that women should get less of anything: whether education, respect, or protein.
Whether you work in the entertainment industry, as a domestic worker, or as a community grassroots organizer, most — if not all — Black women are being underpaid for doing the exact same work as their non-Black woman peers.
What I discovered was a growing Black- and people of color-led marijuana movement that centers our resilience as we fight to end cycles of poverty and mass incarceration in our communities.