Setting the Record Straight

What is a critic? Someone who can’t do what you can do so they want to criticize your stuff. – Martin Lawrence (this quote has been paraphrased. Specifically the word, stuff, to avoid using profanity.)

Being a Christian will never limit me as a writer. I’m not a big fan of labels because I know if people can label you, they can limit you. I’m a Christian and a writer, but I’m not a Christian writer. I don’t want to be put in a box and have my content be specifically aimed to just a Christian demographic alone.

I’m a Christian with an edgy side. Still saved, though. (Just in case anyone gets that twisted.)

I want to reach people from all walks of life. Doing so doesn’t come without being criticized, though. I write about all kinds of things and it’s not always clean, cookie-cutter, wholesome stuff. Some of it’s going to be controversial, raw, direct and vulnerable. I’ve personally struggled with the vulnerability aspect because it’s scary to share my truths and experiences and touch topics that others may want to write on, but won’t because of what others think and the criticism, especially from the naïve, judgmental, church-community types. I’ve been saved since I was seven and I’ve seen how bad this can get. And the older I get and the closer my relationship with Christ grows, I’m learning to let go of a lot of some of my once longtime, limited beliefs on things I once held so tightly to.

I have noticed the criticism, pull backs, internet trolls, social media status updates of someone trying to come for me… I see it. Is what it is. Stay upset, I guess.

Having a difference of opinion, different political views, perspectives and thoughts on different things won’t send me to hell or have me excommunicated from “the church.” My thing is if you don’t like my content, you don’t have to read it. Criticism comes with the territory of being a writer. I’m used to it. But I’m still going to share my stories, thoughts, and material boldly and unapologetically.

Critics criticize, it’s what they do.

Writers write. It’s what they do. It’s what I do. And I’m doing very well. No hate here, just love.

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