by Amina Ibrahim
Last week all of my identities were under attack. It laid bare just how little this system respects all that I am.
Seattle, I am disappointed. Your political system, which was never intended to serve me, your police force, which was never intended to protect me, and white allies, whose intent doesn’t always match their impact, have failed me.
Continue reading A Letter From a Young, Black, First-Gen Journalist
by Brett Hamil
Last night my wife tucked the toddler into bed as she normally does then headed out for a meeting. I sat in the studio downstairs and listened to him scream for his mommy for about 15 or 20 minutes, a feral, throat-shredding yowl that didn’t let up. I tried to go in and comfort him several times but he wasn’t having it. “I want Mommy! I need mommy!” he wailed, kicking his legs and flailing his arms and clawing at his face.
Continue reading Parenting in the Shadow of American Concentration Camps
by Cecilia Erin Walsh
“Sidewalk closed.” I stepped around the construction site sign, pressed the crosswalk button, and waited. The usual traffic on Alaska Street crossed in front of me, loud but not so as loud to drown out the voices of construction workers behind me.
“And did you hear about the synagogue in Pittsburgh? All those Jews being killed?” one man asked another, who responded “Oh, yeah,” like he’d rather not talk about it.
Continue reading Perspective: Bursting Bubbles and Meeting Racism Face-to-Face in the South End