My mom often jokes that I could dance before I could walk. In high school, I realized its potential as a way of storytelling through movement.
When my sister had a mental breakdown, she found herself face-to-face with two police officers. They called an ambulance and she was escorted to the hospital where she was placed on a 72-hour hold.
Choosing a health insurance plan was an exciting moment in my life—a rite of passage into adulthood—and an equally exciting moment for my mom, who no longer would be paying my health care bills.
End-of-life care is a topic we’d all love to avoid for as long as possible, but everyone deserves their best health, even in those final moments.
Race relations is not a zero sum game, and the sooner we all start understanding how white people have continued to benefit at the expense of others, the better for it we all will be.