I spend an inordinate amount of time following pop culture and culture in general, which gives me the privilege to feel comfortable in conversations about most things, including but not limited to the recent Republican and Democratic debates; whatever is going on with Kardashians in a given moment; the last episode of Empire; whether white people should even be allowed to like Fetty Wap; who is playing in the World Series; and whether it was okay for Ashley Benson to dress as Cecil the Lion for a costume party (also, knowing who Ashley Benson is). I have power. I have privilege.
In the interest of full disclosure, I studied writing in college (particularly creative non-fiction) but do not fancy myself a particularly effective essayist. Later, I will surely look at this and feel annoyed my inconsistent theme and style. So the ideas below should be taken with grace – it requires heavy editing to be more than just a whim of a blog post.
I have this Kate Spade purse my mom bought me for my birthday. It’s pale blue, shaped like an envelope, with a delicate gold embossed clover on the front. I think of that purse as a symbol of everything my mother ever wanted for me.
My mother grew up in Birmingham, Alabama in the 60s. Well, partially. She moved to Buffalo, New York when she was a teenager (I think. Details of the lives of others are always a little hazy). She speaks little of the realities…
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urban philosopher 