#affrilachian

[citylightsnc]

It’s Black History Month, y’all. When huge swaths of our history have been given short shrift, it’s incumbent on all of us to study with the intention of correcting that imbalance. . . . #blackhistorymonth #affrilachian #gullahhistory #biography #fillinthegaps #blacklivesmatter #storiesmatter #citylightsnc #bookstore #downtownsylva #northcarolina #sylva #spendlocal #indiebookstore #shopwhereyoulive #readmorebooks #wnc (at City Lights Bookstore) https://www.instagram.com/p/B8baAD2JNog/?igshid=19hky9wg4qx8a

[pinkoshun]

#customdesigns #couture #affrilachian #affrilachianartist #southern #country #oreyeyeosun #valeriawatsonart (at Zamani Refuge)

[servinggirlsholiday]

Evelyn Williams is a portrait of a woman who is many things: a coal miner’s daughter and wife; a domestic worker and mother of nine; a college student in her 50s and community organizer; an Appalachian African American. Above all, she is a woman whose awareness of class and race oppression has led her to a lifetime of activism. Now in her 80s, she is battling to save her land in eastern Kentucky from destruction by a large oil and gas firm.

[prettykittypublishing]

Poetry in music. This short audio film (Gail Taylor, 2017) highlights traditional vocals from The Flying Colors Band, based in Morgantown, WV and led by Al Anderson. The group performed at the MLK Day celebration at The Metropolitan Theatre in historic downtown Morgantown. #AffrilachianPoets #AffrilachianFilmmakers #Affrilachian #culture #poetry #music #video

[lipstickhick]

Inside Affrilachia

Ever hear the word 'Affrilachian'? In the 1990s, a poet in Kentucky named Frank X Walker came up with the term. It refers to African Americans living in

don’t whitewash Appalachia. 

[pinkoshun]

#orisadresses #preparation #exhibition #asheville #ashevilleartist #affrilachian #priestess #friend #southern #country #farmgirl #healer #visionary #ourmothershouse #orisa (at Zamani Refuge)

[healthscireflib]

Before and after school he stood on a milk crate eyeballed the mirror and only saw wayne turner at tournament time a third grader just off the bus barely four feet off the ground he dropped his books sank a j’ from the top of the key and heard the crowd roar beat his man off the dribble with a break yaneck crossover and slammed himself on the cover of a box of wheaties he was out there every night under a street light fighting through double picks talking trash to imaginary body checks ‘you can’t hold me fool’ fake right ‘this is my planet’ drive left ‘is the camera on’ reverse lay-up ‘that’s butter baby’ finshing with a trey from downtown, swish! I’m inna zone t’night whogotnext? more than a little light in the ass hands so small the ball almost dribbled him he formed his own lay-up line in the bluegrass wildcat jersey hanging like a summer dress on a court made bald from daily use and instead of writing his spelling words he signed a contract he could barely read inked a commitment in big block letters to the NBA and NIKE and SPRITE scribbled superstar in cursive with a fat red pencil and practiced his million dollar smile not his multiplication table thinking of how many chocolate milks he could buy with his signing bonus or his all-star game appearance fee after recess another shooting another tragic death another little genius who will never test out of a dream that kills legitimate futures every night under street lights wherever these products are sold. . .

"Death by Basketball," Frank X. Walker

From Affrilachia, copyright 2000 by Frank X. Walker, All rights reserved.

[invisibleminer-blog]