I spend a lot of time every day thinking and talking about sad, ugly stuff. And I'm posting a long piece tomorrow on my friend who takes care of street kids in Haiti. But tonight, I'm remembering me in a purple velour jumpsuit with a BIG silver buckle perched right below my navel dancing under flashing lights to music that sounded like this.
It's hot in Louisiana right now, but Heatwave can make me forget politics, racism, the weather, everything. The first time I saw men like these making moves like these, I was seventeen. It was a Dick Clark touring show. And when the brothas let loose, so did I. Mm-mm-mm! I may be old, but I ain't dead...
what a woman who could have joined the D.A.R. has learned about the socially-constructed, political notion of "race" by just paying attention and NOT keeping her mouth shut...
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