HBO Max On The Record Presents Dear Sisters: Examining Allyship and Masculinity in the Black Community. Moderated By: Jay Connor Panelists: Ebro Darden, Jidenna & Tiq Milan
When we say this among ourselves, the implication is understood. But since we now live in a world rife with brand spanking new “allies,” that phrase likely requires an explanation. Racism is exhausting, which, in turn, means white people are inherently exhausting too. Every single day of our lives, we’re either exposed to racism, recovering from it or suffering from the paranoia and anxiety of waiting for it to inevitably resurface.
“As we started to encroach on the 100th anniversary of the massacre, I saw the parallels of the past and the present,” Dr. Crutcher said. “The racial terror violence that my great-grandmother had to endure and flee in fear of her life is the same racial terror and state-sanctioned violence that Terence had to endure.”
My hope is that On the Record wakes our community up, but more specifically, that it inspires black men to assess our roles as active participants in the destruction of black women. To reflect on our mistakes, hold ourselves accountable and challenge each other to elevate our queens instead of constantly tearing them down or remaining indifferent to their plight. To that end, it’s equally important that we emerge from the shadows and provide the same unwavering public support that we’ve received throughout our lives as though it’s our birthright.
The coronavirus doesn’t just ravage the body of those infected; it wreaks havoc on all those in proximity to it. It plays on the minds of those who, while not suffering from the actual disease, are caring for those who are. COVID-19's alarming infection and death rates bring with it the weight of uncertainty and the fear of unpredictability and the soft whisper of, “God, please don’t let it be me.”
At the second installment of "An Extraordinary Evening: For Podcasters of Color," podcasters throughout the city of Los Angeles came together for a night of food, fun, and fellowship in order to celebrate our accomplishments and lay the groundwork for equitable treatment within the podcasting industry.
While the NFL has rid itself of a truly deplorable human being, how in the hell can the league take a stance against domestic abusers when it continues to openly employ them?
I think it’s safe to say that it’s been a challenging year. Unlike countless others, I’ve been extremely fortunate to remain gainfully employed and have somehow eluded the coronavirus entirely as it continues to wreak havoc upon so many I hold dear. But while I’ve made it a point to count my blessings and remain positive, the fact remains that much like millions of other people, this pandemic has had a profound impact on me.
It’s an uncomfortable truth that’s not only intrinsic to the band’s ascension into rock royalty, but to the soul of the music they revolutionized. If punk is rooted in discomfort and conflict, then what would Bad Brains be without it? And more importantly, what would the musical landscape be without Bad Brains?
I recall being both appalled and aghast upon waking up the next morning to this horrifying news and wishing there was something—anything—I could do to alleviate the anguish and fear that threatened to unravel so many of my friends. But in my efforts to be supportive, I also realized that I was operating out of sympathy instead of empathy—much like white folks do when they feign concern for our well-being but aren’t willing to forfeit their privilege—and got called out for it.
In delving into the rotted core of the Big Apple, very few details are spared over the course of four mesmeric episodes. We bear witness to a lead prosecutor who ignores her moral objections in favor of convicting children she knows are innocent. We bristle as investigators pervert and contort the truth, causing families to burst at the seams. We watch helplessly as trauma engulfs the serenity of Black Boy Joy, and the promise of tomorrow becomes the gruesome scars of yesterday. As such, it’s a lot to endure. Almost too much.
"First she got voted out of the US Senate, now she's out of the WNBA." Jay Connor joins Zerlina Maxwell for the latest on Former Senator and WNBA team owner, Kelly Loeffler.
Yet be it pride, narcissism, mental illness, or otherwise, Kanye genuinely believes he’s somehow acting in the best interest of black progress while basking in his starring role as Trump’s ventriloquist dummy.
“I think most of the stories I’ve read growing up were always about black girls,” she told The Root during an interview with selected press. “I’m always looking at coming-of-age black girl stories like [The Bluest Eye’s] Pecola Breedlove. [...] So sitting in the room with Tarell was the first time I thought, “Wow. You know, I really don’t know very much about black boys. And nor have I ever actually thought very much about black boys.”
Prior to COVID-19 ruining everyone’s lives, attendance was abysmal—the WNBA had it’s lowest attendance in league history in 2018 and drew even smaller crowds in 2019—and the league has long been criticized for its meager wages (that require even its superstars to play overseas during the offseason), embarrassing accommodations and a host of other issues not befitting of some of the most talented and influential athletes in the entire world.
“I think it’s a beautiful thing right now that Black women are being able to be unapologetic about their excellence and being unapologetic about their intelligence,” Champion said. “It’s not an anomaly, it’s very common. And now the world gets to see how common it is for us to actually lead the conversation. I can’t think of any other show that has two Black women leading the conversation."
The inaugural NABJLA Media Summit & Career Fair will bring together hundreds of journalists, communications specialists, media professionals, and students of all backgrounds. Hosted at USC's Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism, this convening will provide professional development and innovative, strategic tools to our attendees.
Integrity comes at a steep price; you don’t become a billionaire by being morally sound. Diddy can’t even drive his kids to school without somebody reminding him that he robbed every artist on Bad Boy, and I would imagine that NFL ownership—where individual net worths can soar as high as $13 billion—features a similar collection of characters who rely on either apathy or outright cruelty as a business model.
Legal victories of this nature are typically cause for celebration, but in this instance, there’s nothing to celebrate. The reputation of a once-lauded magazine is in shambles, and while many have taken the time to dance on the site of Ebony’s premature grave, others like myself have flowers in hand—mourning the precarious state of black media and our respect for a magazine that was once the epicenter of black pride.
Sadly, I failed miserably at ever conceptualizing one myself, but with "Two Distant Strangers" —the short film currently turning heads and receiving Oscar buzz in the process—Emmy award-winning writer and producer Travon Free uses a similar Groundhog Day approach to explore the inevitability of racially motivated police violence—a subject that as a Black man in America, I know all too well.
