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 have understood the power of words since a young age. I distinctly recall the first time I published a piece at age 13, and the apprehension with which I described my sentiments as a bi-ethnic second-generation Tibetan in exile.


I am so bad at expressing myself. Oh my gosh, you guys, I am so bad at expressing myself.


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.


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.


“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.


I’ve always known that Michigan in Color is a space to reclaim narratives and an opportunity to be vulnerable yet subversive.

Don’t let him come here,

This man who hates colored people,

The one who spreads racism,

He only cares for white people.


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

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.