I’ve always wondered if a woman’s Blackness will be remembered, or if our importance, impact and beauty will fade. Sometimes, I feel I allow my mind to dabble in what-if’s and what society thinks rather than focusing on the beauty of my Blackness, and the strength of my Black body.
In the late 90s and early 2000s, Asian-American teens and young adults experienced a subculture called “AZN pride”.
On March 14, Netflix announced it was cancelling its original series One Day at a Time.
With the New Zealand shooting affecting our Muslim community, to midterms and tests stressing many students out, these last few months have been difficult and busy for many. Music has always been there for me through tough times and it is the thing that I turn to when I need comfort.
In elementary school, if I wasn’t drawing, I’d be in the city library, lost in a biography of Magritte or a history of Impressionism. I was certain that I’d become an artist, sharing my self-expression with the world in the greatest museums.
I remember watching people poke around the “ethnic” food platters at my graduation party with extreme caution. It was like watching untrained scientists study a new species.
Before I began college, my dad told me that I’d end up being friends with those who were like me—that I’d stick to my “own kind.” What he meant was that the people who I’d surround myself with would all be Asian, a stark contrast to my high school best friends.
On March 2nd, influential actress and singer, Zendaya, showed her new line in collaboration with Tommy Hilfiger for the first time at Paris Fashion Week.
I am a person who has always valued traditions, and my movie theater rituals are no different. Every time I go, I order a box of Bunch-A-Crunch and a medium drink. If possible, I always try to select a seat that is smack dab in the middle of the theatre.
When skyscrapers and Chicago cityscapes begin to give way to hanging lanterns and stone statues of the twelve Chinese zodiac signs, we’ve arrived again in Chinatown.