The heat. The heat in Hester street, Heaped like a dray With the garbage of the world. Bodies dangle from the fire escapes Or sprawl over the stoops. Young women pass in groups, Converging to the forums and meeting halls, Surging indomitable, slow Through the gross underbrush of heat. Their heads are uncovered to the stars, And they call to the young men and to one another With a free camaraderie. Only their eyes are ancient and alone.
In Baltimore and other segregated cities, the life-expectancy gap between African Americans and whites is as much as 20 years. To Kiarra, the weight sometimes felt like a great burden, and at other times like just another fact of life. She had survived a childhood marred by death, drugs, and violence. But she still struggled with binge eating—so much so that she would eat entire plates of quesadillas or mozzarella sticks in minutes. To hear more feature stories, see our full list or get the Audm iPhone app. The extra fat seemed to constrict her airways while she slept, and a sleep study had shown that she stopped breathing 40 times an hour.
From MommyNoire. Recently, a young biracial woman living in Kansas City, where there is a relatively small population of black people, decided to change her name from the Keisha to the more ethnically neutral name, Kylie. After reading story, I thought about how I have long regretted giving my daughter an ethnic name. Not because it would allow others to immediately classify her by race — I have no issue with that.
Come on! Nineteen hundred and a-sixty-five, I was born and shaken alive A red blooded female covers the crassshhh My daddy taught me to drive Come on! Ghetto Mom, Ghetto Mom What the hell with your atom bomb? Ghetto Mom, Ghetto Mom I said, hey, come on! All around the world, every type a girl, yeah Across the desert plain You gonna know my name Get down You gonna know my name All right!