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All that I need is for you to remember. Remember your immense privilege and status due to the color of your skin as often as I remember that lack of privilege and status due to mine.
While watching the show, I realized that the singles on TV and me on my couch had a lot in common: Suddenly, the physical nature of dating was surreptitiously removed.
You would seriously have to be living under a rock for the last month and not noticed rainbows taking over everything from the Google home screen to your Uber app.
I want my clothes to say something about me to the world, maybe something that I can’t even verbalize.
I’m talking about the televised conversation, monologue might be a better term, between President Donald J. Trump and Kanye West.
People do not say those things to me all the time, but I feel the underlying sting of those words almost every day.
