Same Race, Different Shoes
I have watched people with my same skin tone perfect the cadence of outrage while building whole careers out of never actually risking more than a brand deal or a follower count. I have sat in rooms where my lived apocalypse was reduced to “a powerful story” that someone tried to fit into a panel slot between coffee breaks. I watched them nod with knitted brows as I spoke of nights on the street, systemic sabotage, spiritual warfare that left claw marks on my psyche. Then I watched them go... Read more...
That Which Cannot Be Bought
“Loyalty is not exchange—it is giving what cannot be returned, a test for the strong and a word few deserve to utter.”   -        Joseph J Washington Read more...
Language That Doesn’t Lie
This post argues that language isn’t just words—it’s energy, presence, and biography in motion. It breaks down how tone, cadence, and embodiment decide whether a sentence lands as truth or collapses as performance, because the nervous system can’t fake alignment for long. Drawing from real fire—Arizona heat, homelessness, shame, grief—it explains why “mythic” terms like sovereign, king, and dragon aren’t fantasies but names for responsibility forged under pressure. The piece closes with a hard standard: speak with precision and integrity, not for approval, because delivery manufactures reality—and embodied truth can... Read more...
BLOOD DEBT: The Wages Of Sin
History books soften truth with passive language and careful omissions, transforming systematic brutality into “unfortunate circumstances” and genocidal policy into “complex historical moments.” But the universe keeps a cleaner ledger. It does not forget mothers who threw themselves into the ocean rather than birth children into bondage. The stars remember fathers lynched for protecting their daughters. The soil itself carries the evidence of bodies worked to dust. This is not metaphor. This is the literal architecture of American wealth. Read more...
George Stinney Jr.: An American Tragedy That Demands We Never Forget
Spring 1944, Alcolu, South Carolina: George Stinney Jr., a fourteen-year-old Black boy, is seized by the state and turned into a sacrifice for a white supremacist order that demanded certainty more than truth. Two white girls are murdered. George’s “crime” begins as a child’s casual comment—that he’d seen them earlier—then becomes a death sentence built on an unrecorded, unwritten “confession” claimed by police after hours of interrogation with no parent, no lawyer, no protection. What follows is justice theater. An all-white courtroom packed with white spectators. Black citizens barred, including... Read more...
Dorothy Counts: A Forgotten Civil Rights Pioneer
At 15, Dorothy Counts-Scoggins walked into history on September 4, 1957, integrating Harry P. Harding High School in Charlotte, North Carolina. Met by a hostile crowd that jeered, spat, and threw rocks, she kept her composure as photographer Douglas Martin captured the now-famous image that exposed the violence behind “peaceful” resistance to desegregation. The abuse continued inside the school—slurs, stolen belongings, and threats—until officials admitted they could not guarantee her safety after four days. Though forced to leave, Counts-Scoggins went on to finish her education, return to Charlotte, and dedicate... Read more...
The Birth Of B.A.D.
BAD AFRIKA began as a riddle hidden in a name. The initials B.A.D. belonged to my mother, Belinda Ann Davis, but in my spirit they always carried something larger than a single life. When the phrase “BAD AFRIKA” came to me, it clicked like prophecy: Belinda Ann Davis… Mother Afrika. A personal code pointing beyond bloodlines toward the original womb of a scattered people. Read more...