Jamal Frederick - Second Hand Scribe
Anyone who currently works in, or has previously worked in, the hospitality industry would admit its strongest pull is the environment. There is a duality of childishness and maturity where we weave between food and drink knowledge, levels of service, and also cracking silly jokes or exchanging laughs and banter over things any office job would deem “inappropriate”.
Why the mention of Whiteness? Well, for us Black and Brown people we’ve seen these concepts and scenarios far too often. We know the stench of White privilege. It reeks. We know the masquerade of White mediocrity-as-excellence, we’ve been told we don’t work hard enough, and we’ve heard the preaching of bootstraps and hard work and merit. It’s a myth.
When you grow up you buy a home, they say. Work hard and save up; it’s a great investment, they say. By they, I mean our parents, but unfortunately for us, in this instance, this is not their generation. Our parents generation was: go to school, get a degree, get
When you listen to the average person discuss Thanksgiving, or Thanksgiving week, it rarely sounds pleasant. You’ll hear the wails of forced smile-and-interest conversations, hiding your thoughts, opinions and yourself, horrid traffic, the chaos of Black Friday – it goes on. It’s some kind of weird vanilla-play-cuckold-gleeful masochism and, despite
Mr. Barry Jenkins, One day, several years ago, I found myself on Twitter following a discussion about Indy Black film and the title that popped up a couple times and mentioned by the more hip of the Twitter tastemakers, Medicine for Melancholy. I love that title. I was interested and
Being the last black man in San Francisco seems farfetched. Of course it does. This is intentionally absurd, obviously satirical. Of course it is. It should be as ridiculous as it sounds, but when we bring ourselves further into the numbers, perspective and emotion, it’s more bleak reality than artistic
I don’t know what it is about the holidays that turn normally mild mannered people into monsters. That makes them forget they had mothers who taught them manners and fathers who disciplined them. That brings forth an insanity that, for some reason, is reserved especially for this time of the
Dear Air BnB: Last night, you had a little too much to drink and told me how you really felt…
A couple days ago, signs and large billboards appeared throughout our beautiful embattled city. A few sentences and a simple white text lying atop a very astringent red. I haven’t seen so few words speak with such volume in a long time.