July 27th, 2014

One of those windowsill windows-open summer nights in a sweaty apartment with paint-crumble-cracked walls reverberating shuffles of your abuelito’s best vintage septeto nacional casettes and floating guitar shuffles reminiscent of your first apartment, now covered in fireflies, fluttering about, the beacon atop a hill you can’t come back to enough as you quite like in the dark of night.

One of those windowsill windows-open summer nights, tucked away in a quiet corner of peace. A peace of knowing that tomorrow I’ll meet the faces I’ve dreamed of meeting all my live long life, I’ll read the words that will make me want to do things I’ve never dreamed of doing and am so scared of doing, and I’ll write the words I don’t know are in me yet. I’l eat the morsels that farmers have to offer, that hands have tiredly delivered, and I’ll look the cashier in the eye always and let them know they deserve to have the best day of their lives because no one else will give it to them as change is rudely thrown in a plastic cup adorned with smiley faces. Together, on the commute home, strangers and I will tiredly dream of endless wishing wells and together we’ll put all our pennies in it and tomorrow we will walk more lightly, less weighed down by the hopes we throw into the daily grind.

I cross my legs on the windowsill that creaks as I sit and lean into it. I gaze down into the pool of darkness that is the stairwell below. I smile. I couldn’t climb this high without so many of you, without the crunches of so many leaves across the earth I’ve walked, without the moonbeams and sunshades across the continent — I’ve so gazed across the horizon in search of you! I’ve longed to meet you. To learn from you all.

Here, in Brooklyn, I’m the luckiest girl alive to breathe the same air with you. To share in your experiences. To take something away and to put it back. I’m gazing up at the stars tonight, with a vastness I have longed after two terrible years of looking at nothing but the carrot in front of my face, trucking along to just survive. Tonight, we shine. Tonight, I see you all together and far away and vast.

I love you all, so very much. 



July 4th, 2014






On the morning of September 4, 1957, fifteen-year-old Dorothy Counts set out on a harrowing path toward Harding High, where-as the first African American to attend the all-white school – she was greeted by a jeering swarm of boys who spat, threw trash, and yelled epithets at her as she entered the building.

Charlotte Observer photographer Don Sturkey captured the ugly incident on film, and in the days that followed, the searing image appeared not just in the local paper but in newspapers around the world.

People everywhere were transfixed by the girl in the photograph who stood tall, her five-foot-ten-inch frame towering nobly above the mob that trailed her. There, in black and white, was evidence of the brutality of racism, a sinister force that had led children to torment another child while adults stood by. While the images display a lot of evils: prejudice, ignorance, racism, sexism, inequality, it also captures true strength, determination, courage and inspiration.

Here she is, age 70, still absolutely elegant and poised.

she deserves to be re-blogged. 

she’s so goddamned inspirational

this makes me want to cry

(Source: cloudyskiesandcatharsis)

Reblogged from A L B
July 4th, 2014



SATURDAY > JULY 5 > 7:00

"An elevated hybrid of jazz, hip-hop, and R&B leaps from the Grammy-winning fingers of the “supple, simmering pianist” (NPR Music) Robert Glasper—a fusion that finds its most potent expression with his exceptional band THE ROBERT GLASPER EXPERIMENT. He rolls into the Bandshell with the stalwart Brooklyn MC TALIB KWELI on board to add some lyrical pyrotechnics to your holiday weekend. The versatile percussionist and composer GLENN KOTCHE’s solo work—on glorious display in Adventureland, released earlier this year—is “as rooted around high-brow concepts as it is in rhythmic dynamicity and melodic bemusement.” (Pitchfork) AJA MONET, the youngest winner ever of the Nuyorican Poets Café Grand Slam Champion title, takes command of the stage for an opening set. “  

July 2nd, 2014
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Lauren Jobson-Ahmed is an artivist, educator, youth advocate, & researcher from New York.