The Potty Mouth Granny

  • Respectability Politics and the Policing of Black Male Love

    It’s more acceptable for a Black man to have ten children with ten different women than for him to be gay—and that fact should stop us in our tracks. We live in a world where irresponsibility gets a pass if it performs masculinity the “right” way. A man can leave a trail of single mothers,…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Survival Is My Resume

    I do a good job of not being depressed, but let’s be clear—it’s work. Daily, intentional, teeth-gritting work. I followed the script American society handed me, even when the pages were stained and missing chapters. I became a teenage mother and didn’t earn my GED until I was twenty-seven. I went to college while raising…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • This Is Planet Earth (Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop)

    I’m sitting here rewatching Planet Earth, one of the greatest documentaries ever produced. Before I watched it, I was on the verge of atheism—but then the planet itself started testifying. I knew then that it had to be something higher than just us mere mortals. Something vast and patient. Something that doesn’t need applause or…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Adults

    Grown folks will stomp your spirit down to the bone if you let them. Adults come loaded with agendas, unhealed wounds, power plays, side-eyes, and opinions they swear are facts but don’t know their asses from a hole in the wall. Everybody wants something. Everybody’s dumb and proud of it. I’m tired of their dirty…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • When Blood Recognizes Itself

    Lately, I’ve been seeing the faces of my ancestors in strangers. A jawline in the grocery store line. A pair of eyes on the bus that feel like déjà vu with a pulse. A woman laughing two tables over, her mouth moving exactly like my mother’s used to when joy caught her off guard. It’s…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Tears, Television, and an Animated Sponge

    When my eldest brother died nearly six years ago, a simple cartoon helped carry me through the first raw, disorienting days of grief. My brother didn’t have any life insurance, so it fell to me to lay him to rest—and I had no money. I managed to scrape together $1,000 toward a cremation, but I…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Happy New Year

    It’s a new year, a new beginning. An opportunity to start over. A clean page, not because the old chapters were mistakes, but because they taught you how to hold the pen differently.  You don’t have to become a brand-new person overnight—growth isn’t a costume change. Sometimes it’s quieter than that. Sometimes it’s choosing yourself…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • The Book Collector

    A couple of months ago, I came to the conclusion that as long as I am alive, I am going to buy books. I am a prolific reader. I love books—the smell of a new one, the quiet promise in its untouched pages. I love pulling an old book from a shelf and finding phone…

    thepottymouthgranny

  • Gone With the Wind – My Childhood Obsession

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  • Not All Men—Just These Ones

    I really try my best not to man-bash, but mercy has its limits. Harder than a pimp’s heart, yes—and just as guarded. I don’t carry this irritation into my real life. The men I know in flesh and breath can look you in the eye, hold a thought, and say something with weight. They exist…

    thepottymouthgranny