A monthly column on sexuality, womanhood, and power by Rahima Rice.
Simone and Lorde
What Does It Mean to Teach the Whole Child? A big, loaded question. A somewhat…
I long to see my childhood on screen. No one is steeped in poverty and crime, or so bougie and disconnected they can’t kiki at the cookout.
There are these standards of friendship applied to kids that I think should be eradicated.
Black men are supposed to be the ultimate image of strength and sex appeal. Linebackers and the Sexiest Man Alive. But, when is the linebacker allowed to cry? How does the Sexiest Man Alive express his honest insecurities about his image? For so many Black men, there’s no safe space to express this level of vulnerability.
On almost every TV show I watched growing up, the mother was always too tired for sex. Mothers would constantly shoo away their husbands’ flirts and affections. I am determined to understand the absurdity of the sexless mom.
Black women have always fought for women’s liberation. As far back as the Suffragist movement, Black women have always rallied for equality of the sexes. But, Black feminists have always had to consider their plight in the fight, the intersection of their blackness and their womanness.
I am a card-carrying member of the worry club. But I’m showing up in relationships as my whole self, flaws and all, and evolving outside the narrow margins of perfectionism brought on by the patriarchy.