Dear Buffy the Vampire Slayer…

When I was 11 I wrote a fan letter to Sarah Michelle Gellar. To my surprise, I got a response. At the time I was obsessed with her show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and wanted to let her know how much I loved it. Looking back, writing a letter with anticipation of getting a response was naïve but I believed something would happen if I did, so I went for it. (Imagine what would happen for you if you possessed that kind of faith as an adult.) Even more surprising was the fact that my parents let me watch the show. I was raised Christian and remember a church member at the time referring to the show as “demonic”, but if my parents didn’t have a problem with me watching it, I was unbothered. At the time, I thought there was no one cooler than a butt kicking teenager who fought vampires, went to high school, and had close friends. Buffy Summers was awesome. I can’t remember exactly what I wrote in the letter, but I do remember how excited I was to see a letter from California waiting for me when I got home from school. With excitement, I ripped open the sealed envelope and there was an autographed photo of Sarah Michelle Gellar that read, Best Wishes xoxo. I thought I was the coolest kid ever. I took the autographed photo to school, showed all my friends and teachers, and was told that it probably wasn’t really hers, but as an eager 5^th grader, it was real to me. As a kid, I can’t think of a cooler fan moment than getting the kind of response I did. Although I no longer have the photo, it’s a fond fan girl memory I’ll never forget.

The Day I Became A Kidney Donor

About a year ago, I had a dream my dad wanted to talk to our family about something serious. I wasn’t sure what he wanted to discuss, but I knew it was something I needed to prepare myself for. Around the time after I had this dream, I remember stopping by my parents place and sensing something was going on that they weren’t telling me. I tried to dismiss what I’d been feeling, but I couldn’t shake it. Something serious was happening. As I returned to my home after visiting them one day, I was in my kitchen washing dishes when a heaviness hit my heart like nothing I’d ever felt before. Something’s wrong with dad. That’s what that dream was about. God, what’s going on? As I continued washing dishes, I started crying and praying. Then in mid-spring, my dad held an unexpected family meeting that would change all our lives forever. He hesitated at first, and as his voice started cracking and he started crying, he said, “Well, I wanted to talk to ya’ll to tell you that I have kidney disea...

Thoughts From a Black Educator: Qualified, Credentialed, and Constantly Undermined

I’m a Black educator in my fifth year of teaching middle school English, and in my third as the 8th Grade English PLC (Professional Learning Community) Lead. And while I genuinely enjoy the purposeful work I get to do, seeing the growth of my scholars, and continuing to hone my skills in a content area I’ve loved since I was a little girl, I’ve had to confront some unpleasant experiences in this space. I’d been through much worse when I was an academic advisor at a Christian university. Racism, sexism, harassment, and workplace bullying were sadly norms in that environment. However, some of what I’ve experienced as a Black educator hasn’t been normal … It doesn’t seem normal to be the only Black educator in my department – in a predominantly Black school. One of my Black colleagues once said, “It should look like a Tyler Perry movie in here.” But it doesn’t. It didn’t feel normal being reprimanded in a meeting (during my second year of teaching) by an administrator who went in on...

The Day I Made A Will

When I was a teenager, I remember writing a list of my greatest fears. One of the things I listed was death. Looking back, it was an interesting item to list because inevitably, death is something each of us will face at some point in our lives. Even though it’s no longer a fear of mine, I understand why and how it’s not a comfortable thing for everyone to navigate. But regardless, this past summer I completed a detailed will. I signed it, had witnesses sign it, and got it notarized. As I was getting everything done, one of the witnesses looked at me and said, “You know, it’s just that you’re so young…” I’ve learned that death doesn’t care how young or how old you are. You can be five, fifteen, thirty, or fifty, and it’s still something that happens. Completing my will wasn’t scary. It gave me peace of mind having documentation in place stating my detailed directives and requests. A year ago, I had one of my kidneys removed. It was a surgery that came with risks that were presented cle...

Making Waves