I don’t know where to even start, as I sit, watch, feel. I observe, consume, and admire in awe and wonder at what just happened before me.
When I write I normally have a series of randomly placed words on a list, that have over time fallen out of my brain, through my fingertips, and landed here... on screen. This time my list is so long, with names, feelings, observations, hashtags, quotes, song lyrics, and snaps.
I just finished watching Black Girls Rock, a stunning and beautiful celebration of Black women and #BlackGirlMagic.
In a time when it takes a Black woman being wrongfully arrested and mysteriously found dead in her cell to sustain a news cycle... in a age when Black women (and men) are found to be “least desirable” for dating... in a day when being proud of, excited about, and flaunting one’s blackness is considered threatening, racist, or anti... I beamed, glowed, and all but wept (ok, yes, I cried too). I reveled in the beauty of the moment we annually celebrate Black women in all of their glory, their talent, their strength, and their beauty.
Read moe on The Huffington Post