Style? Check. Snatched hair? Check. Beat Face? Check. Accessories (Beads)? Check. Swag? Lollipop? Pose? Check, Check & Check!
Above is my beautiful little nephew Daiveyon. He is being raised by my single sister. I’ve watched from afar–she lives back in Kansas and I’m on the east coast–as she goes through the process of single-motherhood. It’s obviously been a struggle, but she has managed with passion, compassion and a hell of a lot of style. Let me be clear, I could not do it!
I know a thing or three about assisting in raising children. Our father was never present, and our mother did the best she could, but between the drugs, the men and the depression, well, I took a lot of the reigns, being the oldest. However, my sister is giving me a true lesson in transgressive, radical parenting and she doesn’t even know a damn thing about ms. bell hooks.
Earlier today, while taking an underserved break from my legal writing memo, I saw a terrible conversation between one of my great aunts and several other family members about my sister. This aunt in particular is actually one of my favorites, she was very supportive when I came out and often acted as a grandmother for me and one of my biggest supporters throughout my career and academic successes–introducing me to the Ivy League and the coast I now call (temporary & frigid) home. Anywho, I’ll just copy the text.