blackgirl on mars: notes on a life in copenhagen (or how my alienation brings me closer to people).

It's been a little over three weeks now since the official publication of my book, and it truly has been an overwhelmingly positive experience.  At first, I was a bit intimidated  - but then I reminded myself that that was all part of the process and in fact a sign that I was doing the right thing.  Since its publication I hear from someone every day (thank you readers!) about how much they connected with Decolonial Daughter: Letters from a Black Woman to her European Son. This feedback from you the readers gift me with the experience of realising that I have been successful in what I had set out to do.  This is no small thing. There has been a lot happening, so I'll have to follow this up with more posts. One of the themes in my book is that of radical heal, or as Alanna Lockward reminded me this past BE.BOP 2108: Coalitions Facing White Innocence (more on this later!) decolonial healing.  This book is a physical manifestation of a chapter in my life bei...

celebrating the publication of my book with my former students! photo courtesy of Zozo Ntokazi Mposula  My book is in the front window of Politiken boghandel in Copenhagen! photo courtesy Martyn Bone  When I was a little girl growing up in Brooklyn, my childhood was often disrupted by the toxicity of domestic violence. I knew that my parents loved me, but there was a rage that would come over my father that  rendered all in the household in a deep state of terror. Often, we the children, would fear for our own lives, knowing from experience that even our own mother could not protect us.  I write these words this Sunday morning because I remember, as clear as ever, one day when I was a child, witnessing my father in one of his rages, I made a pact with the universe that I would dedicate my life, through my writing, to healing not only the trauma that my body still remembers to this day, but that I would speak up about these experiences...