The Potty Mouth Granny

  • Ain’t No Apology in My Story

    I can’t speak for all Black women, but I know this much—I don’t owe a motherfucker an explanation about anything in my life. I was a mother to two children by the age of twenty-one. I received welfare assistance. I didn’t get my GED until I was twenty-seven. I know what it means to start…

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  • Power of the Ancestors

    Remember when I moved twice in 2023? Lord, my life was a real-estate soap opera that year. But that first apartment? That one earned a reputation. Anthony and India swore the place was haunted. Not “maybe a weird noise” haunted. Full-on somebody-died-in-here-and-never-left haunted. India even christened it The Bates Hotel, and once she said it,…

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  • Sharpshooters of My Bloodline

    Lately I’ve been thinking about my great-grandfather and his little brother. They were enslaved on the Barrow Plantation in Louisiana when they made the decision to run. How they did it, I will never know. At just eighteen and fifteen years old, they chose motion over fear, the unknown over the certainty of chains. They…

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