This from my former student, Jamelle Bouie. I taught this fine young man in 10th grade honors world lit., and again in 11th grade AP English Language & Comp., a nonfiction analysis course. He is so knowledgeable, so articulate, so passionate. I thought he would be the first Black president, but.... The American Prospect, Salon--I'm so proud!
Obama Inaguration Speech
If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith…Continue
“So, I guess you weren’t at the protest this weekend,” my mother says over the phone. “I couldn’t believe it,” she goes on. “One of the people I work with told me there was a big protest march against gay marriage in Paris, and I thought, Paris, France? The French are some of the most liberal people in the world!”
This is an issue that I’ve meant to write about for a long time. But it just gets me too frustrated. Hearing my mother’s questions, though,…Continue
This piece is cross-posted from my old blog from last year, but in posting my previous blog, I think it wise to post my personal journey away from and back to God. Forgive me if you're a member to both places.
When I first realized I was gay and had my first crush, Adrienne, I was a little southern Baptist girl living in a small town insulated by the ideas of the church, handed down to me by the imposing…Continue
“When you’re raised with the belief that perfection is possible, it’s hard to let go of that.”
I just recently watched the coming out videos of Hannah Hart, better known as the host of My Drunk Kitchen, one of my favorite YouTube Vlogs (found on YouTube as MyHarto and YourHarto). She usually makes me laugh until I cry. This time, she just made me cry. She made such a poignant statement I had to replay the statement three times before I could digest the sentence and what she felt. …Continue
by Tommi Avicolli Mecca
I’ll never forget that evening. It was warm. Indian Summer. It was still light out, as Daylight Savings Time was over a month away. In the working-class streets of South Philly’s Little Italy where we lived, the kids were playing outside on the sidewalk and in the street, and the guys were hanging out, as they tended to do, on the corner outside the butcher shop.
A figure in black was making his rounds, ringing bells, ducking into…Continue
Added by Tommi Avicolli Mecca on December 11, 2012 at 8:00am — No Comments
by Tommi Avicolli Mecca
Being a writer is dangerous. That’s the impression I got from Papa. He didn’t like the idea that I wanted to be a writer. He thought that all literature was somehow subversive. Not to mention pointless.
Everything I needed to know in life, he informed me many times, was contained in tradition. I simply had to live my life according to la via vecchia, the old ways from the old country, southern…Continue
I don’t fit anyone’s political platform. If you can label me, more power to you. I try to write on many things. I often find it hard to convey a complete thought when writing, so it takes me a long time to write things; If you dont understand something I write please ask me to clarify and I will do…Continue
Sunday Mornin’ Coming Down…: After we left Tina’s my angel in denim and I went our separate ways. I…Continue
I just spent a week in the bosom of my family – not by choice – but because my mother passed away suddenly and I went home to honor her memory and lay her to rest beside her Mother and Father.
To be clear – most of my family has no idea who I am. I left the place of my birth and the people with whom I share a blood connection over 30 years ago, and most of them don’t understand why I left or why on earth I haven’t returned! In their minds-eye I’m whatever age they remember me being…Continue