Black artists sing and scream the stories of our lost ones in hopes that we are seen, listened to and remembered.
A series of homecomings – three musical experiences, courtesy of Black Southern artists – encouraged me to love my country soils.
Wanting to be with someone can only get you so far, especially during a pandemic. You have to put in the legwork and learn to talk out the good and bad.
Not having to worry that my parents will die from a trip to the grocery store is a huge burden off my shoulders.
Remember Korean is more than “funny sounding” words or memes that go viral on the Subtle Asian Traits page on Facebook.
We had midterms, exams and papers that weren’t going to write themselves, but it didn’t matter until we were certain that America could finally begin to heal.
My interactions with “Karens” while working retail have been quite the circus because it appears that common sense and humanity is nonexistent inside the store.
My experiences overall starkly contrasted with most of what the news stories and exposés would have you believe.
COVID-19 wrecked every event and idea we had envisioned, forcing us to rethink how we fundamentally exist and operate within the GW community.
I noticed that each airport except for my stop at John F. Kennedy Airport took precautions to protect people from COVID-19.