Black artists, writers, and geniuses have been erased, stolen from, and written out of history before. Emilia Bassano may be one of the most overlooked examples. What if one of the greatest literary voices of the English Renaissance belonged not to the man history celebrates, but to a Black woman whose identity was buried beneath someone else's name? This isn't just about Shakespeare. It's about who gets remembered, who gets erased, and how history has too often rewarded th

The practice of not splitting the pole has become a subconscious awareness of those around me, and concern for our collective wellbeing. My decision making is never without consideration for all those it may affect. If I'm presented with an obstacle in a path I know my folks will also be taking, I'm quick to alert them. From minor inconveniences to major dangers, to even opportunities, I'm constantly in communication with my people to the best of my ability

Gullah Geechee Drum Major Jim Capers risked his life in the American Revolution, survived devastating wounds at Eutaw Springs, and witnessed the surrender at Yorktown. Yet decades passed before the nation recognized the sacrifice of a Black soldier who helped shape its independence.

Reparations need not be reduced to a check. The Charleston proposal reframes justice through land, 7000 acres tied to culture, stewardship, and generational power. For Gullah Geechee descendants, land is memory, survival, and a foundation for institutions that shape the future.

An exploration of why critical “greatest” lists miss what Black people actually live with and how Make It Last Forever becomes the ultimate Black album through organic Black ownership. Keith Sweat didn’t know what he was building. The question is whether the rest of the conversation about Black music is ready to acknowledge what he built. It started the way the best arguments start — not with a thesis, but with a genuine question. What is the greatest Black album of all time?

Trey “Director 80” Smith’s Botanical Series transforms the garden into sacred ground, where color, light, and structure mirror the inner work of healing. Red gates, water, and greenery become symbols of protection, ancestry, unity, and quiet spiritual growth

Relief has become something you experience quietly. We walk away from the water, the pink bag dragging at my spine like the ocean still has its hand on it.

An ancestral altar is a sacred space to honor your lineage, feed your ancestors’ spirits, and invite their protection, guidance, and healing into your everyday life.

Katherine Carson Dandridge’s story reveals the essential work behind Black institutional success. As a pioneering nurse anesthetist at Taborian Hospital, her leadership and service helped sustain a legacy of Black healthcare, community investment, and self-determination.

Brotherhood is not what we post it is what we practice. Real bonds show up in quiet moments through accountability mentorship and presence when no one is watching. The question remains are we building with each other or just performing unity

A Clockwork Red traces the untold history of menstrual care as survival, not fashion. Long before industry or policy, Black women governed their bodies through lived knowledge—adapting, innovating, and preserving dignity under systems that denied it. What we call progress today stands on generations of women who turned deprivation into design and silence into endurance.”

Darryl Ben Yudah examines the militancy of Black pastors past and present — leaders who protect the flock and teach their people to safeguard themselves, carrying a sacred duty of defense and guidance.

Chuck King tells the legacy of Denmark Vesey and the Black Church’s role in militant liberation — a reminder that faith, strategy, and resistance have always walked hand-in-hand in our freedom story.

Selina Gellizeau uncovers the ancestral history of Obeah, revealing how colonizers branded our sacred practices as evil — yet the tradition remains a powerful, protective force in our culture.

Lauren McCaskill explores the origins and enduring culture of South Carolina’s long-standing, self-sufficient African village, Oyotunji — a living testament to reclaimed heritage and community.