Author: Sarah

My senior year of college was, by far, the most emotionally and intellectually exhausting period of my undergraduate experience.

I spent hours upon hours writing, rewriting, and revising my senior thesis, the most challenging (and, in retrospect, fulfilling) research project I’ve completed to date; I saw some cherished relationships slowly dissolve while others abruptly shattered; I went through the motions of attending seemingly endless–and frustrating–discussions with university administrators about issues of “diversity and inclusion” (read: insidious anti-Black prejudice) on campus. In the background, forefront, and center of all of this, I watched what Steven Thrasher has rightfully named “the pornography of [Black] genocide.” I couldn’t seem to get through  a few weeks, let alone a month, without bearing witness to yet another pointless death of a Black person, often at the hands of an abusive state.

I had many ups and downs during that year, but the downs felt particularly low. I recall continually whispering to myself, “I can’t do this. I’m so through.” I was drained. Continue reading “Breaking & Mending” →

Never, ever, accept a dinner date just because you’re hungry… 

I’ve debated whether or not I should write about this on my blog for the past few weeks. I hope that readers not only find this story incredibly hilarious but also deeply instructive. I’ve slightly changed some information to protect his identity. I hope he never sees this…

I, admittedly, made a terrible decision. I accepted a date just because I was hungry. Homeboy, as I will refer to him in this blog post, was nice enough. He was attractive enough. He seemed pretty chill. But, to be completely honest, I never would have accepted his invitation had he not offered to treat me to dinner at a restaurant that I really wanted to try but was too broke to afford. Listen, I live in one of the most expensive cities in the UK; most of my income goes to rent. Is it so wrong that I just wanted to enjoy a (free) nice evening out? Continue reading “Chicken Grease” →

Breath, Eyes, Memory is one of my favorite books. I read and reread parts of  it throughout my undergraduate years at Princeton because, in many ways, the text nourished and empowered me. At the very end of my senior year, about a month before graduation, I wrote Edwidge Danticat a letter. I never sent her this letter, and I don’t think I ever will. But it deserves to be shared… Continue reading “A Letter to Edwidge Danticat” →

Why is it that success is always marked by one’s “ascension” from the hood? 

I came to ponder this question after thinking about a lesser known track from Destiny’s Child’s The Writing’s on the Wall. Continue reading “Hood Love Is Good Love” →

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the politics of Black women’s beauty. To be more specific, I’ve been thinking about the politics of Black women’s hair. But I don’t want to engage in a discussion about the sociopolitical dimensions of the Natural Hair Movement. Nuanced conversations on that topic are (and have been) occurring in numerous places…

What I want to talk about are the sacred spaces that have revolved around Black women’s hair. I want to talk about Black beauty shops. These places are complicated sites for not all salon experiences can be recalled fondly. However, there is a culture, a vibrancy, and a rhythm to Black hair salons that I’ve yet to find in any other space. Let me share a story.

Continue reading “Saturday Mornings at Rhonica’s” →