Working closely with Black writers has changed how I understand talent, growth, and the craft itself. The writers who stay committed, apply guidance, and keep writing often reveal that what they needed was already there. It simply needed time, practice, and room to grow.

African American cemeteries preserve ancestry, Black history, family stories and community memory. Dominique Holiday explores why protecting them matters.

Never would I have imagined that when I came across the name John P. Perry, I was looking at a name already living in my own bloodline. The name of my great grandmother, the same woman I remembered wearing those beautiful dresses to church, was tied to that very line. The tree wasn't the only thing whose roots were planted in Lincolnville. So were mine, through my great great great grandfather. As my family shared stories and we connected the pieces, it all began to make sen

Henrietta Lacks never knew that cells taken from her body would change modern medicine forever. Taken without her knowledge or consent in 1951, her cells became HeLa, the first immortal human cell line, contributing to breakthroughs from the polio vaccine to cancer research and even space exploration. Jay Renee honors the Black woman behind one of medicine’s most important legacies and asks us to remember her name.

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

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?

A sharp reflection on the Black Panther legacy, questioning whether true liberation lies in global solidarity or in a unified, self-determined Black collective rooted in community first.

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.

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.