I was talking to one of my best friends from high school, and she told me that she was annoyed with the students on the music committee for her community college graduation ceremony. She had suggested students walk across the stage to an inspirational Beatles song, Let It Be. My friend went to a school that was predominantly black in Maryland, so I immediately understood her peers’ reactions: “Who are they?!” “That song sounds stupid!” Read the full story

When I was in grade school, I always had butterflies in my stomach on the first day. Why? Because I was worried the teacher was going to butcher my name during roll call. I’m sure some of you can relate. You always knew when your name was about to be called because the teacher takes a long pause, and then there’s a look of panic on their face before saying, “Um…now, I hope I get this right…” Teachers called me “New-by-uh,” “Nuhh-be-ah,”and even “New-bah (totally forgetting the fact that there is an “I” before the “A” in Nubia). Giggling in the classroom always surmounted while I raised my hand, and said, “It’s Nubia (new-be-uh).” Read the full story

It’s a shame most of us have never heard of Edmonia Lewis. She used her talent to replicate life through clay. In the 1840s she was born in a wigwam to a Chippewah woman and an African American man, she became an orphan at age four. Through the financial support of her older brother, Edmonia attended boarding school and was accepted to Oberlin College to study music in 1859. While there she endured some racial tension (and was later forced to leave Oberlin), but came out of that experience with a love for sculpture. She relocated to Boston to hone her talent. Read the full story