But Where O' Where Can We Be Safe?

I want to say it is simply a sign of the times. Where is it safe for me to wonder?  I am caught between where I do belong and equally as threatened when I cave into wanderlust? For the longest I'd been working on something to reflect the climate of racism and violence in America. That focus has blurred into so many other topics stemming from the origin of police violence to just human interaction anywhere on this planet. I hate to be the bearer of bad news - but I personally do not feel safe anywhere anymore. To make things worse - this is not an instinctual or intentional choice. My fear is involuntary. I have never been the type to be afraid. However, now I am made to be afraid of going anywhere, be it overseas or down the street.

Traveling While … Black Part II (Last Revised June 10th 2021)

UPDATE: This post was originally written in August of 2014. This was a catalyst year for change in discussion of race in America. For some that year might be 2016 or 2020. But for me it was 2014. When I read this now, knowing what I know today, even knowing what I knew just months after posting ... I wish to scrap it. This is an archive of memories, a time capsule so I am not keen on just erasing things from this space. But I will fess up to not liking what I wrote and feeling as if I was trying to make something feel better than reality. It appears as if I am one of those colorblind individuals and my actions later on like marrying a German and living in Europe sort of back that up. I am not colorblind nor have I ever been or plan to ever be. I am hyper aware of my race and its dynamics especially when moving about the world. This ring on my finger or apartment in Germany doesn't give me some sort of pass nor does it shield me from anything. However, perceptions of who I am or what I am about are still problematic even more so today. Instead of challenging the views of someone who was in a different place at a different time please consider the changes in society as well as personal growth on my end. I am mature enough and have had too many experiences to align with respectability politics while abroad. However, I do realize people struggle with this concept even domestically in the bonnet gates and code switching conversations that are happening today. I wish that we could just be ourselves everywhere at all times and not have to stay on code or fit into whatever box. The reality is that is impossible for so many but as I now proclaim to be a global citizen I move different. But hey even Oprah couldn't get into the Hermes store in Zurich. You feel me? 

Allow me to generalize for a moment - which type of Black traveler are you? Are you the first in your family to go or do anything rather - i.e. finish high school, go to college, get on a plane? Are you the affluent type who has always traveled and you are numb to the experience of travel and or being a "Black" traveler ? Are you the nomadic gypsy in between jobs and school taking a hiatus or leap? Are you the hard worker who rewarded yourself with a once in a lifetime opportunity? Maybe you are none of the above but who are you anyways? What do you convey as you go about the world with a suitcase? Sadly, the first thing you would be is your color. It is your first impression and everything else is secondary - thats life. Just imagine, what if race and colorism don't play a role elsewhere? What if your nationality always proceeded you? Which would you rather be judged by? I'll tell you when you're getting on the Paris Metro, who you are speaks louder than words and may have nothing to do with your being Black.

Traveling While … Black Part I

A year later I realized the importance of having traveled as a young, Black woman. I began to think about the few of us who do get the opportunity and how it's typically for alternate reasons than leisure. I understood that my particular experience was 180 to the ones of those who have a week long school trip or a short lived military tour. To be Black and travel for travel sake is a luxury most never get to have. I cannot help but wonder what the issue is. Does the desire to travel stop at the mystique of getting a passport? Do we feel we do not deserve it? Do we consider those who do get an opportunity to travel, even if short lived, to be lucky? Do we have hang ups about being the one person who gets to do it? Do we attempt and never get to go? At what point in life do we give up going at all? Is it ever too late to travel?

Suntanning: Healthy Glows, Vitamin D and Laying Out

Forgive me for I am a little Black girl from the city. I never think of the sun and I don't care for it. I've slowly gained an appreciation. Just know this is coming from someone who once thought of the sun as unforgiving and cruel. I never exactly preferred dark skies, humidity and rain - I just didn't know the "benefits" of the sun. Again, I've avoided the beach. I've never gone on real vacations. I've also spent the majority of my life hiding my hair from the elements. I never correlated joy with the outdoors although I go camping. When I camp I'm usually indoors or out to play after dark.There has never been any wanted act of soaking up actual rays. Tanning on La Playa was my first ever experience with "utilizing" the sun. I've never understood the act of tanning. I never knew why it was necessary. I just rolled with my naivety and always pretended to get it.