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Dad was a black panther, mom was a hip hop lover. I'm a black hippie.
19, NYC

instagram: fetseyjohnson
"There is no African, myself included, who does not appreciate the help of the wider world, but we do question whether aid is genuine or given in the spirit of affirming one’s cultural superiority. My mood is dampened every time I attend a benefit whose host runs through a litany of African disasters before presenting a (usually) wealthy, white person, who often proceeds to list the things he or she has done for the poor, starving Africans. Every time a well-meaning college student speaks of villagers dancing because they were so grateful for her help, I cringe. Every time a Hollywood director shoots a film about Africa that features a Western protagonist, I shake my head — because Africans, real people though we may be, are used as props in the West’s fantasy of itself. And not only do such depictions tend to ignore the West’s prominent role in creating many of the unfortunate situations on the continent, they also ignore the incredible work Africans have done and continue to do to fix those problems."
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Uzodinma Iweala, “Stop Trying to ‘Save’ Africa”

(via cammyyy)

(Source: ryanmichael-s, via theblacknationalist)
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I remember my mom going to all the record stores tryna find thus single. Back when boy was Thicke.

(Source: gracie-law, via bonita-applethug)

 Why isn't New Orleans Mother's Day parade shooting a 'national tragedy'? 
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cs-k:

stfuconservatives:

“So I shouldn’t be surprised that the Mother’s Day Parade shooting has largely been forgotten. On Sunday, shots were fired into a crowd during a parade in the New Orleans 7th ward. Police said they saw three suspects running from the scene.

This is the largest mass shooting in the United States where the shooters were still at large after the crime was committed. Think about that for a minute. From Columbine to Virginia Tech to Fort Hill to Aurora, all the shooters were either killed or apprehended on site. But the person or people responsible for shooting 19 Americans are still free.”

One of the people who got shot was an antiviolence blogger. Somehow we aren’t seeing massive solidarity for New Orleans or the entire city going on police lockdown to find the perpetrators. Two reasons: 1) This mostly affected Black people, and we all know how much the media and the police give any fucks about Black people in New Orleans; 2) This was a gun crime, so we can’t criticize it because GUNS ARE FREEDOM!

Wait what…? I hadn’t even heard about this! The fuck.

(Source: daughterofalkebulan, via theblacknationalist)

leighroi: Dooope.
 the color of low self esteem 
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miguu:

what i never
learned
from my mother
was that
just because someone desires you
does
not mean they value you.
desire is the kind of thing that
eats you
and
leaves you starving.

(via aklittle)

Sharonda and Latonya! This was one of my fav sketches!
eberles-gap: battle-for-perfection: I don’t get help because I am the helper. I’m sure I’m not the only person who can relate to this. You’re the friend who helps everyone, gives them advice when they need it, tells them they’re perfect when they feel ugly, and help them with their relationships even though you’ve never been in one yourself. But then the time comes around for you to be sad, for you to need help, and they’re not there to give it. Sure, sometimes you may not tell people you need help when you need it, but when you do tell everyone just ignores the fact and continues on with their lives like you don’t matter. And then the next day they come to you for more help. I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t even care if I get their help or not. I wouldn’t even know what to do if they did offer help, I’ve never been on the other side of the relationship and I would feel out of place if I was. I’ve become better at dealing with my feelings and problems myself rather than telling anyone or even anything. More on this. At some point, you don’t even want help anymore, even if you need it, because you’re so far gone into your role that you can’t see yourself getting help. You get to a point where you refuse other people’s help because you don’t want to burden them, because you’re the person that’s supposed to be burdened by others. At some point, you become afraid of getting help. this! this is so me Accurate to the fullest extent.