To the rude boy in second period: Yes I am "a shade." I am black. I don't care what you are. I'm black. I'm not the shade of night, but I am the beauty of it. I'm black. I was born black. Labels mean nothing, but I embrace it. —Lola Nova

To the rude boy in second period: Yes I am “a shade.” I am black. I don’t care what you are. I’m black. I’m not the shade of night, but I am the beauty of it. I’m black. I was born black. Labels mean nothing, but I embrace it. —Lola Nova

Thahabu

I don’t know any girls who wake up crying in the middle of the night because their spine looks like a distorted Leaning Tower of Pisa. More importantly, I don’t know girls whose spines—even after spinal fusion surgery—still stray dramatically away from their bodies the way mine does. Read More »

Simone

For too long have I allowed my personal value be determined by my peers. When made to feel small, I acted accordingly. People took advantage of my weakness, and the vicious cycle repeated. But ultimately, to paraphrase something Freddie Highmore once said in a really pretentious film I watched when I was 12: I was born, and I will die, alone. And thus, who do I have to impress? Read More »