Eight days ago, I stood in a pulpit and eulogized my father.
Considering the current state of affairs, I have no clue when I'll be able to write something original. I'm hoping it'll be next week, but I'm fully prepared for this to take some time. In the interim, I'm going to share what I hope was a decent eulogy. This one won't be as melancholy as the first, I promise.
Read MoreYou were the perfect father for me. I lived in constant fear of letting you down. I still live in that fear, and I doubt it'll ever subside. It motivated me. It'll continue to motivate me, because you've set the absolute highest standards for me to reach. I've never sought accolades or the spotlight for me. Everything I've accomplished has been for you. I'm in awe of the man you were, and I know I've got some big shoes to fill as your only son.
Read MoreI got my style from my stepmommy. I got this gift of words from my mommy. I know I can write. I know I can dress. And I'll believe it just enough to keep this project going, and hopefully some folks will agree with me someday soon.
Read MoreThis year, Detroit Public Schools reported a four-year graduation rate of 71 percent, but only 2.4 percent are scoring at Proficient on the MME. I know that 71 percent very well. But what are the odds I know the 2.4 percent who we can unequivocally say will be academically prepared for the next level?
Read MoreI was so mad at her.
Well, maybe not mad. But I was clearly aggravated.
I was graduating from high school on my 18th birthday. A high school I’d unceremoniously learned I wouldn’t be returning to 2 years ago to the day. This day was clearly a big deal to me. I wasn’t quite sure where my life was headed during the summer of 2008. Fast forward a few short years later, I’d managed to graduate from that same high school with honors, while finessing a full academic scholarship from the best HBCU in the country.
And here was my grandma, sitting in the kitchen, IN HER PAJAMAS.
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