Essays My Body, My Own I want to stop buying things. I woke up at 4:37 a.m. this morning despite taking enough medicine to put a 350-pound wrestler Kerra Bolton Posted on September 28, 2021
Essays Seen and Yet Invisible: My Thoughts on the Black Narrative To be honest, I’m angry. I’m a 48-year-old Black woman. There, l said it. It is how people see me regardless of Stephanie Spencer Posted on August 14, 2020
Essays Where Do We Go from Here? If you have followed my columns in recent months, you’ll notice that I’m building an intellectual and artistic architecture Kerra Bolton Posted on July 28, 2020
Inspiration Why I Learned to Swim in My Forties Black bodies rocked against the splintered wood in the hull of the slave ship. Rusty chains rattled with each rise and fall Kerra Bolton Posted on November 25, 2019
Essays, Mental The Price of Black Girl Magic I had been on suicide watch for two days. Every hour on the hour, a female floor attendant knocked on the metal frame of the Kerra Bolton Posted on January 24, 2018