“Now that you are in new educational and work environments, has being adopted or a former foster youth come up? If you have shared the information with new friends or colleagues, how and when have you chosen to share that information with new people?”
“Yes it has come up before. In high school and middle school people wouldn’t really think much of it being adopted. Since I’ve started working I’ve found that surprisingly a lot of people including adults are oblivious to the fact that not everyone has two parental figures in their life. They all assume that I have two parents, and I’ve had some really immature reactions to telling people that I’m adopted.”
“As people of color, I believe we have been conditioned to feel like it’s our job to make everyone understand our struggle and convince then that racism is real. It’s not our job. It just really isn’t. Simply figuring out how to stay alive in this country every day is already more than enough work for us, the last thing we need to be doing to arguing with people who know damn well they are wrong but just choose to be racist.”
“Like most wives, I annoy my husband on the regular.
Most of these things are due to differences in perception.
For instance, I think I will DIE if I don’t have a drink at all times, and he thinks I won’t. “Lemme get a to-go cup. No, I cannot make the drive from home to Starbucks without a drink! That’s like, two miles or somethin!” “
“I don’t want to live in a country that treats me like a second class citizen based on the color of my skin. I don’t want to fear my black son getting shot by law enforcement because he was “profiled” by some concerned citizen that he was somewhere they thought he shouldn’t have been. I don’t want to live with the thought that I can’t trust doctors because I know they don’t take my concerns seriously as a black woman.”
“[T]here has been a wardrobe change over here. It’s not like I was some sort of fashionista in the before times, but the panDemi Lovato has me switching things up a bit. I have purchased my first starter caftan. A mini muumuu, if you will. I now dress as though I am the love child of Stevie Nicks and Mrs. Roper. Think flowy, possibly flammable comfort 24/7. I’ve transcended elastic waists at this point. What even is a waist? That’s the only question I will ever need you to ask post pandemic me.”
“The weirdest part of my presentation of Aimless Wardrobe Syndrome?
I owned clothing that I loved. And I never wore it.
Every morning I reached for the same four ratty, pilling pajama pants I’d gotten as hand-me-downs over a decade ago. I’m one of those assholes who got Pandemic Swole™️, so it was extra baffling to me that I felt so bad about my appearance despite being happier than ever with my body.”
“I want to talk to Black mamas. I don’t just mean Black women that have children. In a lot of ways, Black women are mamas to everybody – whether we’re moms, or aunties, or teachers, or mama to a community. We “birthed” civilization, and we’ve been nurturing ever since. So, I’m speaking to all of ya’ll.
I want to be honest and say, as a Black mama, that I’m not okay. Unless you’ve been under a rock, you might have seen the now typical example of a news week in America. Derek Chauvin’s trial was interrupted with the story of an army lieutenant being pepper-sprayed by police (for questioning an officer). That story was then interrupted by the story of a 26-year veteran cop “mistaking” her gun for a taser and killing Daunte Wright during a traffic stop over an air-freshener. You heard me – an air freshener. To round out the week, that story was interrupted by another unarmed person of color being killed by the police – this time, a 13-year-old child that had his hands raised.”