Save the Best for Last: You’re Okay


Two Sundays ago I woke up with this song by Vanessa Williams in my head:

“Just when I thought our chance had passed, you go and save the best for last.”

If my life were a movie, this would be the soundtrack. Indeed.

I remember when I had to drop out of Columbia College Chicago, while looking at everyone else around me continue their education. I was confused and hurt. Gosh, just thinking about that sad time in my life, makes me want to travel back in time and hug my 18-year-old self. Read More…

That Time I Had to Drop Out Of Columbia College #TBT


I wish I could remember what happened in the moments leading up to my breakdown. I can’t. All I know is I locked eyes with who had quickly become my favorite professor during my freshman year at Columbia College Chicago, and before I knew it I was in her arms crying uncontrollably. She escorted me to the bathroom, so we could speak in private, because my outcry had clearly interrupted Voice 1 (I was a theatre major). She kept quietly repeating “No, no”, as if I’d done something that disheartened her. I knew what she was thinking, so I quickly said “I’m not pregnant”. She seemed a little shocked, but replied “So what’s wrong?”. I informed her I wouldn’t be returning for the second semester, due to a lack of funds. She quickly gave me alternative options that could possibly prevent me from having to drop out, but I’d already been there, done that. I needed money to return. I didn’t have it, so I had to leave. Read More…

Sometimes It’s Hard Being Black & Christian


She told me about the business her father owned and my mind automatically began to wonder. I wasn’t playing the victim or having a pity party, but as I listened to my White friend talk about her father’s endeavors as an entrepreneur, I couldn’t help but to think of the potential entrepreneur stories that my father and grandfather were robbed of. My grandaddy came to Chicago from Mississippi, during the Great Migration. He worked 3 jobs to provide a better life for my grandmother and their 4 boys. He worked until cancer claimed his life. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, because my father has the exact same work ethic. I’m proud to come from a family of hard working Black men. It’s who they naturally are, because they want to be. However, it’s who they HAVE to be as well. There’s no happy ending consisting of the playing fields being leveled, receiving 40 acres & a mule, or tokenism-free opportunities. Read More…