And just like that, it’s Championship Game morning for South Charlotte’s AA Baseball League. ⚾️ My youngest son’s team, the South Charlotte Riverdogs, started the season slow. We weren’t even sure they’d make the playoffs. But they kept showing up, kept practicing, and kept believing. Now they’re playing for a championship. Life has a way of reminding us that slow starts don’t determine strong finishes. Sometimes the breakthrough comes simply because you stayed in the game.

Today, for the first time in nearly ten years, I put color on my nails.🫣 Not nude. Not sheer pink. Not the muted, professional shades that quietly disappear into boardrooms, conference tables, and carefully curated perceptions. Actual color. Mint green, in fact. With a design. 🤌🏾 And to most people, that probably sounds small. Trivial, even. But for me, it felt oddly emotional. For years, I have existed in spaces where presentation mattered deeply. Industries where women—e

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how interconnected our stories can be. Fifteen years ago, on May 15, we chose to marry in an antebellum home/plantation in Natchez, Mississippi. When I shared our venue with my parents and elders in our family, they cringed. Being only four generations removed from slavery, Natchez — especially its plantations — carried a heaviness, an air not historically considered “friendly” to Black people. They fought me from every angle, trying to convinc

I’ve always loved Sunday mornings. Waking up to Bobby Jones playing loudly throughout the house. The smell of Sunday dinner already cooking before the sun fully rose. The sound of preparation — church clothes being ironed, voices moving through the house, the quiet anticipation of a day spent in what I had always known as my very first community. I grew up in pews, choir rehearsals, revivals, Sunshine Band, Sunday mornings, and late-night services. I grew up surrounded by mu

There are certain places that never fully leave you. No matter how far life carries you, part of your spirit remains there—sitting on a porch somewhere at sunset, hearing laughter drift through humid air, watching fireflies rise from the grass as the evening settles in. For me, that place will always be Yazoo City. When people speak about small Southern towns, they often focus on limitation. But what I remember most about growing up in Yazoo is closeness. A kind of warmth and