When I first scrolled across the story, it was shocking that this could be happening again, and in this century! Though it was shocking enough to give me pause, I kept scrolling, hoping it was nothing but clickbait. Now, a week later, there is no denying the truth: in mid-November 2017, CNN reported secret footage confirming the sale of African migrants in Libya for as little as $400 per person. These migrants traveled to Libya with hopes to be smuggled into Europe, escaping the poor conditions of their homelands. Instead, they are being held captive without food or water, while badly beaten, sodomized or raped, and being forced to work in sub-human conditions without pay. They are being sold as property into indefinite slavery.
I bet you like that flag, Blue-blooded lover of a guns, Oh how beautifully, it waves for you. Should I keep running this race while tied to a tree? Seeing my peers pass me up never acknowledging their head start. So focused on their privilege, I forgot whats special about me.
Now that the big 3-0 is almost here, Im waiting to exhale from mostly escaping the frustrating agist stereotypes of our society. I look in the mirror, still seeing my 18 year old appearance, but knowing there’s so much more underneath. I see a living testament to the mind being your most powerful God-given asset. You will become what you believe.
I’ve lived in Miami for all of 5 minutes and it’s time to evacuate. So here I am, sitting in a Tallahassee airport at 3am writing about Miami instead of enjoying it. And of course I can’t think about Miami without thinking about my time in Cuba. [click the link for more]
“To My Future Husband, Wherever You Are, I Know Who You Are Because God has shown me who I am. You are the only one who can handle…..” [click link to continue]
“Another round?” Shamelessly, I wanted to visit with Enrique again and of course claim my 3rd glass of his velvety port. ”Guapa. You are having fun?” Call me guapa one more time, I thought mischievously. “Yes! And I’m going dancing with you tonight!” His eyes widened as he smiled. “Bryan me invita!” I explained in my broken Spanish.
[Read page one: Occupying Ferguson… and page two: Conquering Fear] Although I was absolutely willing to put my life on the line, it wasnt time yet. I wasnt ready to die on the front lines of this cause when I felt like I had done so little to move the culture forward. The best weapon
[Read page one: Occupying Ferguson]At that time in 2014, I was tangled deep into the black web of Tumblr. The power of online social justice warriors stretched its arms wide and kicked its feet under the nose of the sleeping giant that has become this country. Organizers posted meetings, discussions, lived feeds, think pieces, poems,