The big “three” was on and popping. She got mad picky about food. Super Why? and Dinosaur Train were the shit. We tried child apps, but they worked too well and had to be stopped before spreading tentacles. She got Legos. Here’s a short excerpt of what I wrote when I first posted this video: She already knows her ABC’s, shapes, colors and she can count to ten. She is at my waist and I think she’ll be taller than …
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My babies. 
And on the 7th day…, not Sunday, but Saturday. 
If there ever was a fitting metaphor, this hangs over my dad’s TV. 
My bro’s BBQ. 
The complete triangle. 
The fuck is up with my awkward-ass smile. #becausejapan 
Honest Abel.
We took the impossible trip half way around the world and made it to Orlando. We had two transfers. Going through customs, Haruki had to go through what feels like getting screened to visit some one in jail. Kantra did amazingly well, way better than we hoped. Haruki walked her up and down the aisle when Kantra got too restless. Pops, Ma Dukes, and my brother make a quick “cameo” in the video. They would’ve been more present, but I …
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida 
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida 
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida 
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida 
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida 
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida 
Confederate Statue, Lake Eola, Orlando, Florida
Blacks built America’s infrastructure and economy. Nothing will change that fact. Leave them statues alone. They are evidence of how the “victors” intended history to be written. I don’t want to forget that, and I don’t want my child to either. Reproach their significance. The real battleground is our children’s schools. They need to know that the face of horror, which is generally associated with blackness, actually exists in our forefathers. The Amy’s and John’s of America need their perceptions …
“You shut the fuck up and wait,” Tom said from behind the wheel, pointing his finger at the driver honking at him from behind. Tom was a big-bellied fat man. A pistol and a pocketknife hung from his waist. Framed by ditches on both sides, Tom and Pops talked from their trucks, blocking the narrow two-lane road. In the back of our van, my middle brother Peter and I were sitting on tomato boxes. “Geeze,” Pete whispered, putting his head …
The 2016 Presidential Campaign, the murders of black men, and the rise of white supremacy have turned me into my wife’s interpreter for making sense of what’s going on over there. She’s a lot more aware than I give her credit for, but the pressure to ease her anxiety about living in the states is unnerving. “White people crazy as hell,” I blurt out. It’s the only thing I know how to say. It’s what I heard my southern daddy …
