Uptown Notes

Let me get it out of the way: I wasn’t the biggest fan of Pac’s music. I am the dude [...]

Originally published at The Atlanta Post The internet is a funny thing and Twitter is a funny place. I find [...]

“Fire Toure!” is a call being made from many corners these days, but I’m not sure I can go that [...]

On February 10th, I had the pleasure of joining an esteemed set of scholars for the 143rd Founder’s Day Symposium [...]

“Traditionally, in American society, it is the members of the oppressed, objectified groups who are expected to stretch out and [...]

This morning I woke to #RIPBIGPUN as a trending topic on twitter and was conflicted about bigging up Pun. Pun [...]

Today’s BHC (Black History-Contemporary) speaks to the position of Women, leadership, and racial uplift. Undoutedbly we are accustomed to hearing Black HIStory but there [...]

This is my reflection on Ujima: Collective Work and Responsibility For more than a year, I’ve entertained way too many [...]

I just watched Precious, Lee Daniel’s film based on the novel Push by Sapphire, and the only way I can find to describe it is extraordinary in the superlative and literal sense. Extraordinary, in the superlative sense, for its craftsmanship in visually and textually telling a narrative of the composite character Precious. It is extra-ordinary (beyond ordinary), in the literal sense, in that it concentrates on a particular set of lives ravished by sexual abuse, physical abuse, and poverty. This is not the tale of all in poverty, but it is a tale that exists.

Dear Old Morehouse,

I’ve been trying to avoid writing this for some time now. As an alumnus of the institution, it’s hard for me to see you in such condition. Many of my fellow alumni complained of your disrepair and your besmirched image when they heard about students being beaten for their sexuality, shooters graduating, and cross-dressing, but I have got bigger concerns. While all these things mattered to me, they did not disturb me because of what was being done to the image of our institution, they disturbed me because they demonstrated that Dear Old Morehouse was terribly unequipped to deal with the realities and lives that Black men in America live now. In fact, it is the Old Morehouse that is more dangerous to me than any student with a gun, sagged pants, or high heels would ever be to me. Let me explain.