Thursday, January 4, 2018 - 5:30pm
.

I’ve always loved storytelling and I’m always searching for new ways to tell stories. I love singing, performing, art, music and, most relevantly, writing. Since I’ve started college, I’ve added some new passions to my list. I’ve started to write poetry as a way to express my thoughts and feelings. I’ve also expanded the genres of stories I read to include plays, articles and magazines.

Thursday, January 4, 2018 - 5:27pm
.

Growing up, Nick at Nite was somewhat of childhood pastime as shows like “George Lopez,” “The Nanny” and “Family Matters” were the focus of my attention. I found particular fondness in “Family Matters” because of Steve Urkel’s famous tagline, “Did I do that?” Though Steve Urkel was great, it was the sentimental moments that also caught my attention. In one of the episodes, Laura wanted to buy a VCR, so she sold her grandmother’s quilt. Later, she finds out the quilt was in the family for over 200 years.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018 - 4:53pm
.

As a child, I used to think about the stories and poems I wanted to write when I got older. Whenever something funny happened, I thought of how I could write a story about it and make someone else laugh too. Yet, I never actually put pen to paper. The stories I wanted to write were so different from the books I read, and my experiences were so noticeably different from those of my favorite characters. I thought my story wasn’t something people cared about. Why would anyone want to know what an Indian, Muslim girl from Michigan thought?

Wednesday, January 3, 2018 - 4:50pm
.

I spent my whole childhood defining my Blackness with words that were not mine for the choosing. My peers defined Blackness by hip-hop, poverty and a certain accent, and when I didn’t fit their stereotype, I was flippantly called an Oreo. My parents did what they could to give me a solid foundation in my identity, but when half of my day was spent around people who looked nothing like me, there’s only so much they could do. I was left feeling irrevocably inadequate; not Black enough to truly be Black.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018 - 4:48pm
.

“Your hair, it is so…” fill in the blank: “fluffy,” “big,” “weird,” you name it. People said these things to me while they ran their hands through my hair as I walked to my history class. They were not used to the natural hair of a Black girl who always wore her hair slicked down and straightened. Needless to say, I never did it again. It took too much time out of my day running to the bathroom in between classes to tame the frizz that had occurred in my twist-out because people continued to touch my hair without my permission.

Monday, December 11, 2017 - 5:38pm

Don’t let him come here,

This man who hates colored people,

The one who spreads racism,

He only cares for white people.

 

We don’t want him here,

This man of white supremacy.

Don’t come anywhere near,

You’re clearly not a friend I see.

 

He threatens to sue us

Monday, December 11, 2017 - 5:37pm

The next time any man asks ME why I’m so angry

I will ask them how long their attention span is

'Cause my anger stretches far beyond the scope of a sentence

 And though I know I can never properly capture my anger in a lecture or a paper

I also know that small minds that ask this question in the midst of a conversation

Can only interpret syllables jumbled up in effort to define an emotion

Tuesday, November 28, 2017 - 3:40pm
My father posted this picture on FaceBook along with the caption: "Standing on top of what used to be my room!"

When most people think of home, they often think of a warm and cozy place filled with loved ones, light and home cooked meals.

But what always comes to my mind are small rocks and slabs of concrete painted bright green and a dark, rusty red. This is all that remains of my father’s house in Jaffna, Sri Lanka — the house that I would have grown up in and the house that I would have called mine. What is left of my father’s house has melded with the soil, indistinguishable from the earth it once stood upon, as if it never existed in the first place.

Thursday, November 23, 2017 - 12:01pm

University of Michigan faculty, graduate student instructors, research assistants and staff:

We are writing this to request that you to cancel classes Nov. 30 to pressure the administration to refuse to allow Richard Spencer to speak on campus, as well as show leniency to marginalized students who have been affected by our oppressive campus environment throughout the rest of the semester.

Wednesday, November 15, 2017 - 6:08pm
Giang's family

If you would like to learn more about perspectives on immigrant experiences through different forms of art, check out Shift from 7 to 9 p.m. Thursday in the Pendleton Room in the Michigan Union.

One day in 1975, 21-year-old Giang Lê decided to skip class for the first time. He sat outside his dormitory at Van Hanh University in Saigon with a few friends when a car suddenly braked in front of them. Giang’s mother signaled from the car and told him to pack — a choice that would change his life forever.

--