What We Got from Family

The Griffith and Hudson families. 

Hudson family photo courtesy of Stephan Hudson.

KH: A while ago I saw a post about generational trauma and the importance of remembering that there’s wisdom that's passed along to us too. With all the focus on healing, identifying unhealthy patterns, and doing the work to change them — it’s important to do more to recognize and tap into the good. And there’s so much of it. For Black History Month, I thought it would be dope to talk about all the good things that our families have passed along to us. 

brg: I really love that we’re learning new ways to ‘family.’ We’re understanding how generational trauma has affected us and redefining relationships, parenting and self-care. And to your point, our ancestors left breadcrumbs to help us both do the heavy work and find joy.

KH: So you know I'm gonna start with music. Now I can’t sing at all. But put me on that show Shazam and I’m winning. I can name a song within seconds of hearing the opening notes. And I swear that’s because of my family. My uncles are talented musicians. My aunt and both of my parents can sing. My uncle Curt & my cousin Eric even won a Grammy together last year. Now none of that talent came my way, but I do have that winning ear, and a deep love for live music.

brg: I can carry my weight holding a harmony or two, but I’m not a soloist! Sunday mornings were always my favorite music days: Gospel from my mom, Jazz, R&B and Funk from my dad, then they’d give the kids a freebie of what was popular at the time. I can’t remember a summer spent with my cousins that didn’t involve learning new songs. I know the song “Cassanova” by LeVert to this day because my big cousin Katisha made sure I knew every single word! 

Cousins April, Bria and Katisha

I also looked forward to building go-carts from lawn mower motors with my Uncle Walter, helping my Aunt Thressa prepare for family barbecues, going to the movies with my Aunt Lois who bought me my own popcorn that I didn’t have to share with my brothers. I learned to innovate and problem solve, connect with others and care for people.

KH: I got my side eye from my maternal grandmother, Mimi. 😁 She also used to always ask how I became so disciplined and goal oriented. But she earned her Bachelors from Hampton at 19 years old, traveled to France, and became a French and English teacher at both the high school and college levels. In the post-Depression, segregated south! She was in her late 80s and 90s when she was wondering about my discipline. I reminded her of the example she set for me, long before I was born. 

 Katura's maternal grandmother, Lillian Willis (Mimi) and her side eye.

brg: At the core, family is who we are; it’s at the heart of our humanity. Black family histories and traditions have been an integral part of this nation’s story and a foundational component to American culture and identity. One good thing that comes to mind for me is that family doesn’t mean blood. Can we celebrate play cousins?! Many of us grew up with cousins and siblings that were fostered and adopted through circumstances rather than courts. Those familial bonds are just as strong as the genetic ones. I feel like our ancestors taught us to love one another in that way.

KH: I met another Black woman who works in PR last week. Her last name is Hudson too and I called her cousin immediately!! Lol

I have a lot of biological cousins too. And genetics are really interesting. My cousin Kelli and I didn’t not really grow up together. I’d see her only here and there over the years. Our dads were super close growing up though. When my dad was writing his memoir, her dad was helping him remember details. They're that close. And when I tell you how similar Kelli and I are personality wise?! Especially when it comes to being straight shooters. It even surprises me sometimes. 

brg: I think we should also celebrate and lift up the regular stuff that our families have given us. Like how there are specific “jobs” when it comes to holidays - if it’s not your job to make potato salad and/or macaroni and cheese don’t make it or bring it. If you’re asked to bring ice and utensils, then we all know you can’t cook! I see that as two life lessons: stay in your lane (play to your strengths) and what’s understood doesn’t need to be explained :)

KH: Haaa!! My mom and I made the dressing together this past holiday season. Usually she makes it, and we wait alllll year for it, so I know that pressure! It's her recipe with some tweaks from my paternal grandmother, Ma Dear.

I always say that my first examples of giving came from Ma Dear. She didn’t not have a lot of money but if you were hungry, her door was always open and your plate would always be full. I learned that early from stories my dad would tell about growing up poor in Mansfield, LA. Giving from your overflow is one thing. But giving when you don’t have extra — that really stuck with me, and shapes my giving today. 

brg: Black men play a central role in our families. Black social media is usually ripe with hilarious illustrations of Black family member characters. I’m thinking about the uncle we all know with a cigarette hanging off of his lip giving you a laundry list of the necessary repairs for your car! I’m also thinking about fathers and grandfathers, brothers and cousins that provide stern and loving insight to steer you in the least harmful direction. 

KH: Shout to my uncle Raymond who came with me to buy my first car for that very reason!

There’s a content creator, itsjust_shaymoore on Tik Tok. Her videos have me hollering AND thinking we’re related. It’s an entire celebration of the Black family on her page. Including the mechanic uncle.

brg: I love her content! My family’s roots are Southern, which makes me love her content even more!

KH: What about parents? The best things you got from yours?

For me it’s being a solution creator. They started Just Us Books out of a need they saw decades ago for children’s books that celebrate and center Black folks. That takes initiative, drive, patience. I have two out of those three 😁. 

brg: My parents taught me to use what I have to help the overlooked among us. No one is too “small” to help. I was reminded of this a few years ago when my high school security guard, Myrna, reached out to me on social media. She was so sweet and told me she was proud of me. She even said I was cool! I spoke to support staff (security, lunch ladies, facilities, etc.) more than I did teachers and administrators and was keen to call out disrespectful behavior toward them. Now that I think about it, I’m the same way now.

Bria's parents on their wedding day

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Bria R. Griffith is a multi-industry organizational leader on a mission to connect community and business to implement strategies that promote social and economic equity.

Katura Hudson is a writer and strategist with a passion for community; diversity, equity & inclusion; and New Edition.

Reimagining Rest

Rest:

“To cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength.”

We’ve been writing this blog about rest for months. The reason it’s taken so long is probably because we don’t rest enough. We’re usually working — developing strategies, juggling countless projects, professional and personal commitments and favors. So what does it mean for two super doers to reimagine rest? We discuss. 

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Katura: I had to actually look up the definition of rest because I’m still new to the practice. Rest used to mean sleep to me, especially as a kid. Now it looks like a lot of different things. Daydreaming, deep breathing, even just shutting my eyes for a few minutes. Rest also used to simply mean ‘not working.’ But now I know it’s more than that. It’s intentional and restorative. 

Bria: Rest definitely meant sleep to me until I became a real adult. I developed a habit of doing all the things, all the time and sleeping when I was completely spent. At some point though, I began to understand what my elders meant when they said, “I’m just resting my eyes.” The goal was not necessarily to sleep. It was more about resting their minds. I do remember them unintentionally falling asleep a few times though! But I’m learning how to calm my mind, not just my body with rest. 

Bria resting watching the sunset in Tulum, Mexico pre-COVID. (She is not pictured, lol)

Katura: Ooh that’s good. Resting the mind is tough for me. And learning to rest is work! I’m unlearning the need to constantly be productive. Doing is a reflex. If I close my laptop, I’m still on my phone - reading, writing, brainstorming. If I sit still on my couch, before I know it, a To Do list is forming in my head and I’m tackling the first task. When I do rest - no phone, no laptop, no tv, talking or To Dos - my mind clears and my creativity soars. I get ideas for books and blogs and new strategies. Of course all of that is more work. So my next step on this journey is resting for rest’s sake. Letting my mind clear or soar and not feeling like I have to take action on it either way. 

Bria: I think it’s interesting that there are so many books and articles on sleep hacks for more productivity versus sleep hacks to just...sleep! I think this speaks to a larger discussion around equality and equity - what it means to be lazy, who gets to be lazy and grind culture. For so long, people in marginalized communities have been told that they don’t have material wealth  because they don’t work hard enough. Yet, these same people were relabeled “essential workers” during the pandemic while others escaped with their families to tropical locales. Thankfully, people are calling attention to these unhealthy aspects of dominant culture and reshaping the narratives. 

Katura: I’ve stopped using ‘lazy’ to describe a state of inactivity. Maybe we’re tired or just not interested in a particular task. And I’m so glad there’s more pushback on grind culture. It always seemed to be more about bragging than doing impactful work anyway. 

Katura resting at Mytoi Gardens in Edgartown, MA

Bria: I know you follow The Nap Ministry. What are your thoughts on rest as resistance?

Katura: Those Nap Ministry posts get me together. One of my favorite posts is “Harriet Tubman was stopping to pray and rest and had prophetic dreams while leading the Underground Railroad.” Even now, I can hear Tricia Hersey (Nap Ministry founder): instead of doing all this talking and writing about rest, go lay down! 

You and I talk a lot about radical self care, and rest is a part of that. Society expects us to earn rest by working hard. But if I never do any more work in life - I still need rest. Believing rest is a right is resistance. Especially for those of us who were taught we need to work twice as hard to get half as much. I’m rejecting that. And as someone who’s experienced serious burnout before, I’m trying something new. I want to rest before I get tired. 

Bria: A word! “Rest before I get tired.” Deciding to reject the double standard for work and reward was definitely a game changer for me. I’m learning to prioritize what matters most to me and establish healthy boundaries. Also, I’m human. Humans rest. It’s literally an operating system requirement, lol!

Katura: There’s a lot more on my mind, but I feel like we can use this time to put our words into practice. So last question: What’s your favorite way to rest? It’s the beach for me. If I can find a spot that’s not crowded, where I can hear the waves crashing - that’s perfect.

Bria: I heard the waves when I read that! I totally agree. Somewhere not crowded, feeling the sun on my face, surrounded by lush, green landscapes near water makes me feel connected. There is something about the sound of water moving that sets my mind at ease. 

Real Talk on Allyship

Katura: Let’s start with these photos. I wanted us to capture our expressions when we hear the word “ally.” What were you thinking?

Bria: This is my “Am I smiling?” smile. We talk a lot about authenticity these days, but for me, it’s more about truth telling. Calling a thing a thing. Seeing or hearing someone call themselves an ally has in a lot of ways become the “I’m a good person” siren. It’s less about what you say and more about what you do. It’s time for some action <in my Cypress Hill voice>.

Katura: When people say “I want to be an ally” I wonder what that means to them. Are they ready to work, to be uncomfortable, to give up some things — or are they looking for a title or a quick box to check? Allyship requires action, so what I’m hoping people mean is “I will speak up, show up, self-educate, be part of the solution.” If I hear “ally,” I’m listening, but for me, it’s more about what you do and say next. 

Katura: Let’s answer the big question. What is an ally?

Bria: An ally was supposed to be a person using their privilege to actively help marginalized and minoritized groups of people challenge, disrupt and dismantle systems and structures that create and are at the root of inequality and inequity. But in a lot ways it has become a passive means to pat oneself on the back for doing the least. As the Marines say, “Everybody wants to go to heaven. But nobody wants to die.”

Katura: Listen, you’re making me think of allies who lost their lives in the fight against injustice. Like Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner who were murdered along with James Chaney during Freedom Summer. But back to the question. You said an ally was “supposed to be….” Do you think ally has come to mean something different? 

Bria: I’m reminded more and more that allies are not created equal, that some do a whole lot and others high five themselves for hashtags on social media. I definitely appreciate more clear definitions for ally and I also think that more advanced words like accomplice and co-conspirator have popped up to emphasize that light and easy doesn’t move the needle. 

Katura: Some of the most powerful allies I know don’t even call themselves that. The title doesn’t matter to them. It’s about the work. (Shout to my friend E.) 

At TransformHer 2021, one of the speakers said “you don’t own the ally title, you earn it.”  Ally is also not a title you give yourself. Your actions will introduce you as an ally. That’s why I don’t love the focus on *being* an ally like it’s an achievement or destination. I’d rather talk about practicing allyship — focus on the work and the journey. 

For the record, I wanted to share this on-point  definition from the Oregon Coalition Against Domestic and Sexual Violence: “Allyship is an active, consistent, and arduous practice of unlearning and re-evaluating, in which a person holding systemic power seeks to end oppressions in solidarity with a group of people who are systemically disempowered.”

Bria: I really like that definition, particularly “unlearning and re-evaluating,” because there is inside (heart) and outside (community) work that is necessary to be an effective ally.

Katura: So what does allyship look like?

Bria: I can tell you what it doesn't look like! I watched an interview with Margaret Chinwe Anadu, Global Head of Sustainability and Impact for Goldman Sachs Asset Management, speaking about a new investment initiative Goldman Sachs announced investing $10B to advance racial equity and economic opportunity for Black women. Only three comments in, I see: “Don’t forget about white women!” She also included an angel emoji. <insert my selfie pic>

Katura: For me it looks like choosing justice over order. It looks like the opposite of microaggressions. Is there a word for that -- interactions of support that, over time, help remove barriers and create for marginalized people a sense of belonging? 

Bria: Do the work without fanfare or floodlights. Use privilege to promote equity and justice. Educate yourself on systems and structures of oppression. Call out microaggressions, macroaggressions, discrimination. 

Katura: And to build on your comment about what allyship is not...Allyship is not a favor...Allyship is not quid pro quo. True allies don’t expect people from marginalized groups to share their story, or educate them on an issue in exchange for allyship...Allyship is not a hashtag or black square on social. They can be a start to some real learning and action, but just that. A start. 

Katura: We’re not giving cookies, but can we give some suggestions? How can we all more effectively practice allyship?

My suggestion would be to de-center ourselves. Think of the change that needs to happen, the policy or practice or microaggression that needs to be addressed — then consider how we can use our position, influence, or resources to make a difference. It’s like gift giving. How often have we given someone a gift we wanted them to have, as opposed to what they actually wanted? Don’t make allyship about you.

Bria: I totally agree with you. The work is not about you. Actively listen. Don’t be a savior, work in solidarity. Pay attention to calls for support and support in the ways those affected have requested help. That goes back to what you said about giving gifts you want someone to have versus what they want or need. Amplify the voices of the marginalized and not your own. We’ve heard and read the stories of “allies” making big profit from the knowledge and research of Black and brown folks. Hold the media and content creators responsible for the messages they put out (or don’t put out). They control the story, the storyteller, who becomes the villain, the hero. Oftentimes this is how stereotypes are kept alive, biases are reinforced and culture is shaped. 

Katura: How has someone shown up in true allyship for you?

Bria: Sadly, I don’t have many examples, but it has happened. Recently, I had someone step up for me and quite frankly, there was no benefit to her. We didn’t get the desired outcome we wanted, but she promised me a fancy dinner for my troubles when the world opens up. We both know that a good glass of wine is not much of a consolation prize, but it’s an acknowledgement that fighting bias, barriers, prejudice and all the -isms that come with an intersecting identity requires constant care. 

Katura: Even though I asked the question, I don’t have a good answer. The examples I thought I had were actually illustrations of good leadership. Like a manager publicly recognizing me for leading a successful project. That’s important, but that’s not allyship. As you said, allyship can (and sometimes should) happen without fanfare — so I hope that’s the case for me and all of us who don’t have many personal examples to point to.

I do think more people are talking about allyship in action — not just the title and performative symbols like those pins that were popular a while back. I recently took Hollaback’s workshop “Bystander Intervention to stop anti-Asian and xenophobic harassment.” There were more than 3000 people in that session doing the work to understand what prejudice, bias, harassment and racism look like AND how to take action against them. We need so much more of that. The private messages of support and amplification on social are good; I see and get plenty of those. But how are we showing up beyond that? Especially when it comes to challenging the systems that support things like microaggressions and harassment. 

Bria: That’s a great point. It makes me think about the current state and future of the workplace. So much has changed since the pandemic began. Our interactions are largely virtual now and people can show up differently online than they do in person. I just read about a former teacher in California who spoke to a parent about her son’s academic progress and not realizing she hadn’t hung up the Zoom call went into a racist rant about this student. The teacher resigned, so the school district said there’s nothing to be done in terms of an investigation. As the nature of work and school continues to evolve and traditional dynamics shift, there will be an even greater need for allies. Needless to say there is much work to be done and people cannot be afraid to step up. Fannie Lou Hamer said, “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.”

Bria: How we work has certainly changed, and for some of us, so has the way we relax and recharge. Spring has sprung! What are you looking forward to learning about yourself or others in the coming months?

Katura: Spring is my season! After such a long and cold winter, these random 70-degree, sunshiny days in Jersey are reviving me. I’m a March baby and I got to the beach (in NJ!) for my birthday. That was different but sooooo needed. I’m looking forward to continuing to reconnect with myself — hopefully in lots of sun and fresh air. What about you?

Bria: I wholeheartedly agree! I love this time of year. Unfortunately the pollen is alive and thick in my neck of the woods! So, I haven’t been able to test my roller skates outside just yet. However, I’ve started a new meditation series and I’m looking forward to uncovering more zen. Namaste.

Bria R. Griffith is a multi-industry organizational leader on a mission to connect community and business to implement strategies that promote social and economic equity.

Katura Hudson is a writer and strategist with a passion for community; diversity, equity & inclusion; and New Edition.

How Deep Is Your Love?

As we come to the end of a month dedicated to love and to the celebration of Black History, we wonder: how can we show Black people more love?

Bria: One way that comes to mind is showing Black people love without a tragic event being the impetus for care or concern. There are so many ways to impactfully love Black people without participating in empty, performative gestures. Let’s go deep people! Dig! Make it count (measure). Make it matter (impact). A card for Valentine’s Day is nice, but fixing the garbage disposal is sexy! Garbage disposal is both literal and figurative here. What are some ways you show Black people love?

Katura: Can I just say that this blog title has me singing Dru Hill in my head? But to answer your question: One of my favorite memes says “friends who shout Ayyyye when you dance are necessary.” It’s such a fun reminder that love and support show up (and out) in many ways. (Shout to my friend Jack who is the ultimate hype person.) I think another way to show Black people love is to “let” us just be. Sometimes expectations - even the seemingly good ones like ‘she’s an A student’ - are heaped so high it’s oppressive. Let’s give Black people room to change their minds, try something new, learn, say no. Let folks know they’re appreciated — period. We have a tendency to tie praise to accomplishments and appreciation to favors or acts of service. I think we need more ‘just because’ love. Personally, I show love by supporting and celebrating Black people, our stories, businesses and projects. What about you?

Bria: I just did the Dru Hill hop in my head! Showing Black people love with my time (commitments), my money (where and how I spend it) and my mind (offering my talents and skills) are the ways I show Black people love. I just want to help make room for Black people to live free and liberated, especially Black girls and women. So, whether I’m helping to flip tables or build them I want to participate in creating equity that currently does not exist. 

Bria: Love has been on my mind a lot since the beginning of this year. At the foundation of love - whether it’s for a partner, family, friends or the community - is self-love. How do you show yourself love?

Katura: So self-love and self-care look the same for me. You know I’ve gotten good at prioritizing self-care: knowing and honoring my boundaries, saying no, giving myself grace, carving out time for fun. One big area of growth for me is giving myself time to relax. Not necessarily sleep, but relax and allow my mind to wander instead of writing content or strategizing in my head. Once I turn that corner you won’t be able to tell me nothing!

Bria: Music stays popping up in my head when we talk! “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.” I do see self-love and self-care differently with both being very necessary to moving toward fulfillment, freedom and liberation. I also believe that learning to love myself will be a til’ death do we part exercise. Showing myself the same grace and compassion I strive to show others is at the top of my self-love list. Letting kindness for myself manifest into self-acceptance.

Katura: My social media was a Black love fest this month: I posted a new Black business, org, or resource on my IG stories every day. I saw lots of people showing love that way too. I hope it continues. Beyond shouting out and supporting Black institutions, I also decided I would only watch programs that centered or celebrated Black folks this month. Between Netflix, Hulu, YouTube and good ol PBS, there was a lot of good content available. Plus I have “Eyes on the Prize” on dvd. I plan to watch a few eps on Feb. 28 to end the month right! Did you do anything special for Black History Month to show our folks love?

Bria: Since I was stuck on love, I read books by Black authors that focused on love. I watched content that focused on the beauty and resilience of Black love. I listened to music that celebrated Black love and Black people. Now I’ve got to think about how I want to end the month! I feel like a glass of Uncle Nearest on the rocks seems apropos.

Katura: So what’s your favorite love song? I’m going with “As” - Stevie.

Bria: You love asking questions that have 100 different answers! OK, I could choose multiple songs from this one artist, but this is one of my favorites: “Day Dreaming” - Aretha

Katura: What about your favorite ‘I love Black people’ song?

Bria: Currently it’s “Black” by Buddy. It solidly drives home the point.

Katura: Right? That energy! And the video of the Black women dancing to it? In fact, let’s end with that: WATCH 

Bria R. Griffith is a multi-industry organizational leader on a mission to connect community and business to implement strategies that promote social and economic equity.

Katura Hudson is a writer and strategist with a passion for community; diversity, equity & inclusion; and New Edition.

What We’ve Outgrown

When times get tough and motivation is hard to come by, a helpful friend might suggest looking at how far you’ve come. Growth can be inspiring. So can leaving things behind. 

Katura: I was listening to entrepreneur Myleik Teele (founder of Curlbox) talk about outgrowing friendships. Not because of drama or a falling out - simply because two people are in different places in their lives and don’t connect like they used to. Relatable, right?

Bria: So very relatable. When I was much younger this disconnection felt personal; I took it as an indictment on who I was. However, age and wisdom reveal very different things at play when this happens in friendships. There isn’t much I like about reptiles, but one thing I do admire is that reptiles know how to shed their skin and keep it moving. The shedding doesn’t happen overnight. There’s rubbing and agitation that has to happen over time. But in the end, there’s no muss, no fuss, just new skin. Totally random thought: I wonder if reptiles have “They think they’re all that!” moments when they’ve shed their skins and interact with other reptiles. Probably not. Are humans really more evolved? <chuckles>

Katura: Time flies during a regular year. But 2020 was a total time warp and endless loop of pandemic and election news. So I appreciate the year-in-review recaps we see around this time because I need to be reminded that other things happened this year.  I do personal reflection around this time too. What did I learn? What do I want to work on? What am I thankful for? This year I’m adding a question. What did I outgrow? 

Bria: Now you have me thinking, but while I’m doing that what did you outgrow?

Katura: Most of my life, I’ve defined growth by accomplishments. (Typical type-A behavior.) If not accomplishments at least progress. Has my writing improved? Did I learn a new skill? Can I run farther, twist my hair faster? But growth is not just about stepping into the new. Growth is also what you leave behind. Realizing what no longer serves you and letting it go. 

Two big things I’ve outgrown. 1) Being the default “go to” person; 2) The pressure of “should.” Both of those things come with heavy expectations and almost no boundaries. I’m over all of that. 

Now be clear, just because I’ve outgrown things doesn’t mean I‘ve totally let them go. Unlearning behaviors can be a process. But acknowledgement is the first step. And I’ve definitely done that. 

What have you outgrown?

Bria:  More than anything I’ve outgrown undervaluing me. I’m over that. I’m valuable. Whether or not someone chooses to see my value is not something I can control. That goes for friendships, relationships, workplaces, worship spaces and anywhere in between. I tend to overcorrect to prove my worth (for any given reason) and the effort involved never matches the outcome. You know I work diligently on seeing situations through a lens of grace and compassion (it’s not easy). But I’ve learned I’ve got to save some of that grace and compassion for me too. So, I start at “I’m valuable,” and go from there rather than, “Let me prove to you how valuable I am.” This has filled my peace jar a lot quicker.

Katura: I love that. Because your value isn’t something you need to convince someone of. It just is. 

My most vivid memory of outgrowing something was this pair of turquoise pants I had as a kid. I don’t know why, but they were my favorite. When they were clearly too short for me, my Dad made me put them in a big bag full of clothes we were donating. A few days later, I went back in that bag, dug out those pants and put them on. They were wrinkled high waters! But I was not ready to let go. 

Do you remember learning about the concept of outgrowing?  Or letting go?

Bria: I learned about letting go the first time my family moved. On our last trip to get the remaining things out of the “old” house I slowly walked through the rooms.  The house felt so big with all of its contents gone. My little mind was overwhelmed by the uncertainty of new things (i.e., new house, new school, new neighborhood kids) and what these new things meant for the old things. My Mom must have seen the anxiety and sadness on my face and as she tends to do, created a vision for an adventure that included picking paint and vertical blinds for my new room. I think it taught me that letting go of old things isn’t always bad. And in hindsight, interior design was not my calling!

Katura: This doesn’t count as outgrowing per se,  but one thing I gave up this year? Trying to run again. I used to love running. I ran track in high school and later with BGR. I got back out there this summer and NOPE. Not only was I so out of shape, I didn’t enjoy running anymore. I realized I was doing it to check the box on a comeback. Doing it just to say I did. I’m over that too. 

Bria: In that vein, I wanted to let go of rigidly defining the things I enjoy doing. So, I got to thinking about all of the ways I loved being active as a kid. Thankfully, I have a family that supports me when I suddenly switch things up (or maybe they silently judge me). Either way, I added roller skates to my holiday wish list. Send some positive vibes your girl’s way because these bones ain’t so young anymore! 

Katura: This whole convo just reminded me of that Toni Morrison quote from Song of Solomon: ‘Wanna fly, you gotta give up the sh!t that weighs you down.” Here’s to more flying. 

The authors, pre-blog and pre-pandemic, pausing for a photo during a marathon convo in DC. 

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Bria R. Griffith is a multi-industry organizational leader on a mission to connect community and business to implement strategies that promote social and economic equity.

Katura Hudson is a writer and strategist with a passion for community; diversity, equity & inclusion; and New Edition.