https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzpxGp6BvJI&feature=share As part of the Berkshire Festival of Women Writers, I facilitated several workshops with female writers of color. This is the culmination of our project.
I Take “Crazy Pills” and I Am Not Ashamed
Illustration by Jessica Krcmarik
[The illustration features a place mat with an array of breakfast foods and coffee. A pair of arms rests on the mat. One hand is holding a spoon; the other hand is clutching onto a pill bottle.]
I remember the first “crazy pill” that I ever took. I was on vacation in Tennessee, sitting on the edge of one of those generic motel beds with a hideous blanket covered with — what was it? Seashells?
Pill bottle in hand, my mother looked at me with apprehension and said what many folks would say to me for years to come:
“Are you sure about this?”
I nodded, looked her in the eye and without hesitation, I said, “Absolutely.”
In the years that I have been taking psychotropic medications, never for a moment have I regretted my decision. Have I been afraid of what happens in the long…
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Not Where I’m Supposed to Be: Depression and Turning 38
I don't get sick often. A week ago I was in the hospital for four days. And this wasn't like getting sick with the flu or something. I had severe kidney distress. This was not particularly new because I've always had kidney stones. Since I was 16, really. What was new with this trip was … Continue reading Not Where I’m Supposed to Be: Depression and Turning 38
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Of Cabins and Greens Beneath the Snow
Afihyia Pa! It is Day 13 into the New Year. I made no special resolutions to begin this year. I didn’t even plan to release my blog post on the 1st as I did last year. For some reason, this year entered my consciousness nonchalantly. A month prior to NYE, I had made some plans … Continue reading Of Cabins and Greens Beneath the Snow
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List of Demands
Oh yes, because there are things I want, things you will need to give me to ensure our easy interaction. And yes, I could say that respect is what you need to give me, but I’ve been saying it for years and have finally accepted that it doesn’t mean the same thing to you as it does to me.
So I’m making my demands known. Demands, making me sound like a hostage-taker. Maybe I am. My hostage is this moment, this moment that has flipped a switch for me, for so many people. I’m holding it and holding it. Holding it as if there’s a forever-fermata hovering overhead just now. Holding it and holding it, stretching it and myself. Will I post other things? Of course I will. At the very least, I’m only halfway through my 30-stories run, so there will be stories. But for today there are…
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Musings of An African Woman 