In undergrad, I drove a ‘92 Ford Taurus that just hulked, tank-like, up and down the streets of Berkeley. The thing was conspicuous, an ocean liner. I was pulled over all the time, once or twice a week at one point. Often I’d see a squad car following me and just pull to the curb to get it over with. An officer would walk up to the car, one hand on that little button that secures the strap over his gun. He’d ask for my license and registration. Some inner voice would remind me that this was the time to point out I’d done nothing wrong; I’d ask for a badge number, I’d take a stand. But black boys are supposed to know better.
We mourn the loss of our friend Robin Williams, who always made us laugh and smile.
What will your verse be?
(Dead Poets Society, 1989)
I can’t resist… #becausefutbol #forgiveme
Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by how much I love my sibs. Then, at moments like this, I’m reminded it isn’t really because we’re related; it’s because they are just unreasonably spectacular people. So happy to rep Kamran and Omar Choudary as we celebrate our brilliant, beautiful, tenacious, inspired, and oh-so-newly minted… Elizabeth Hira, Esq.! #speechlesssister #thanksmom