• On Inspiring,  Voice

    Filling her cup…last Tuesday morning

    Last Tuesday morning, I had a deep conversation with my oldest daughter during the car ride to school. She’s emerging, working on becoming a young lady, dreaming of her future, forming thoughts and opinions of her own. She’s at what I feel is the most critical point of a young girl’s life…the point when you ultimately step into the person you will become. And of course, as her mother, it is my duty to guide her as she decides what that new person will look like. With this emergence comes growing pains. I don’t mean the random, and sometimes bizarre, physical aches and pains that come with transitioning from childhood…

  • Purpose

    Trust your purpose

    Sometimes, you find your purpose…you know your purpose…you feel your purpose…you step into your purpose…you breathe your purpose. But still somehow, you manage to doubt your purpose. It becomes a cage from which only real confirmation can free you. When that real confirmation comes–and, I mean, when it comes in a powerful way–you know. You really know…

  • On Being a Writer,  Passion,  Purpose,  Voice,  Writing

    And, “Yes” never felt so good…

    A week-and-a-half ago, I received an unexpected message from friend and author, Kwame Alexander. He was spearheading the Burke High School Teen Empowerment Conference, “Write Your Story,” and he needed fellow writers and artists to design and lead writing workshops for the kids. He asked me if I would consider being counted among the immensely talented individuals who were already slated to share their gifts. I stared at the message, certain I had read it wrong. Kwame–2013 and 2012 NAACP Image Award Nominee for Outstanding Children’s Literature, author of seventeen books, a man who rubs elbows with literary giants–wanted ME to be a part of something so impactful and poignant?…

  • On Being a Writer,  Passion,  Purpose,  Voice

    …I Guess I Always Knew

    I’ve always had dreams of writing. I recall a personal conversation I had with myself as a teen. In that conversation, I promised myself I would some day have at least one piece published. I didn’t care if it was a column, an article, a poem, a novel or a short story. I just wanted to be published somewhere, at least once, before I said goodbye to this life. I wrote a great deal of poetry in my teens and early twenties. I had notebooks and folders filled with it. I was really feeling my poetic vibe. It felt good. Fulfilling. Meaningful. I was a gifted writer. I don’t say…