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  • Her storytelling is what guided me through the rainy nights. During these nights is when we could live the most. She would tell me to close my eyes and just listen, so I did. We traveled through the world, through new dimensions and worlds through her voice. She crafted us…

    Kendall Williams March 25, 2022
  • I don’t know how many times younger me had to hear “the future is STEM ” from my teachers. As someone who’s never excelled in any stem subjects and dreaded every math class I had to take, consistently having STEM subjects pushed down my throat as something to pursue got…

    Reihan Abar March 25, 2022
  • Cooking, African-Femininity, and Identity in Gen Z “Ayoola, come to the kitchen!” My mother would scream daily at the top of her lungs, face heated, eyes filled with determination. Determination to make a “Woman out of Me!” Determination to prepare me for my husband’s house. “Mother” I would respond in…

    Ayoola Fadahunsi March 25, 2022
  • From Rites and Reason Theatre I cried at the Friday showing of What to Send Up When It Goes Down by Aleshea Harris, directed by Notorious Pink and performed by a Black ensemble cast of undergraduate students. I took my parents to see the production and we weren’t sure what…

    Maya Avelino Bencosme March 25, 2022
  • During the sixth week of my introductory poetry analysis class, I was tasked with reading excerpts from Christian Bӧk’s Eunoia. The topic for that week was sound: ways in which poets manipulate rhyme, assonance, alliteration, consonance, and a host of other sonic phenomena to evoke attentive response from readers. The…

    Gustav Hall March 25, 2022
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Black Star Journal

Paper-Mâché Boat

Her storytelling is what guided me through the rainy nights. During these nights is when we could live the most. She would tell me to close my eyes and just listen, so I did. We traveled through the world, through new dimensions and worlds through her voice. She crafted us…

Who decides your concentration? It’s certainly not you.

I don’t know how many times younger me had to hear “the future is STEM ” from my teachers. As someone who’s never excelled in any stem subjects and dreaded every math class I had to take, consistently having STEM subjects pushed down my throat as something to pursue got…

 Chop, Dice, Repeat

Cooking, African-Femininity, and Identity in Gen Z “Ayoola, come to the kitchen!” My mother would scream daily at the top of her lungs, face heated, eyes filled with determination. Determination to make a “Woman out of Me!” Determination to prepare me for my husband’s house. “Mother” I would respond in…

Outlooks on the Month of April

Outlooks on the Month of April Aries  This is the month where you should be unafraid to be your whole authentic self: active, unapologetic, determined, and above all, honest. Work. You’re working towards something and will soon achieve it. Let it serve as a reward for all that you’ve been…

Druplets

how funny it is that the link has diedand now you sketch charcoal blackberriesbetween blushing pink handswhen ours are pale and littered with lines of brown. I grab the bowl between us,but the blackberries seem to crouch beneath each other,no longer garnished with Costco infecticide,these weren’t hidden behind that jacket…

So From Below

The bright spring foliage of Brown University, beautiful as it may be, has grown and blossomed from soil fertilized by the body of my decaying happiness  it’s greeting flowers bloom to reveal petals outstretched to the sun— some a lush purple, dyed with the colors of my bleeding melancholy; others…

Exploring Caribbean Culinary History through Recipes:
Accras de Morue

When I cook traditional Caribbean food, I am transported back to my grandparents’ kitchen in Martinique. The fragrances of roasting chilis and burnt coconut sugar ignite fond memories of helping my grandfather shuck coconuts and fry saltfish fritters. These nostalgic aromas of my grandfather’s kitchen are pungent reminders of the…

Black Art as Black Being

On Friday, March 11th, RISD hosted its first Black Biennial showcase. I was lulled to the Moore terrace by the sounds of Afro Beats. Jerk chicken (well seasoned, may I add), live music performances, laughing, celebrating, I was immediately thrown into the event’s energy. With a tradition of white supremacist…