Apparently, I’ve got something to say. If you ask my parents, I’ve had something to say for a very long time. But, I’ve learned to struggle with that. I’ve been punished for “my mouth.” I’ve been silenced and learned to silence myself because maybe I will say the wrong thing. Or I’ll be shunned. Maybe I’d look foolish or unintelligent. Maybe I’d lose opportunities. Maybe I’ll destroy my life with my opinions and my words. I remember writing my father a poem about domesticating my tongue because I had said something that he didn’t like. (Don’t worry, the poem wasn’t as harsh as it sounds.) The truth is, several of those things have come true. And at times, it felt like the end of the world.

So, I find myself here, today, needing to speak more than I have spoken. As I embark upon this little adventure, I do so acknowledging that in addition to seeking connection, sharing ideas, and encouraging others as I am encouraged – what brings me to this space is a need to face my fears. The need to puts some words and thoughts to paper and have others read them and take what the need and leave what they don’t. The need to see myself on paper, and not shy away from the spicy, sticky, scary places. Perhaps, I am writing myself back to me.

I cannot promise that I’ll be the most precise in my writing, or profound in my prose. But, I CAN promise you as much honesty as I can muster. I can promise you access to random epiphanies as I experience them. I can promise you (hopefully) some new insights into black music and culture. And I can offer some joy, I NEED to share some joy with others. I hope you will join me on this journey and share your thoughts as much as you desire. Because, we’ve all got something to say. And that is worth honoring.