As much as I hate letting things go, it’s time to move on.
My grandmother’s life mattered tremendously to those in Thomasville, many of whom packed the pews at Friendship Baptist Church for her homegoing celebration.
It was this semester at USC that I made the transition — from podcast connoisseur to podcaster. I still continue to talk and write about podcasts all the time (this column is a good example), but I finally found myself behind the mic this semester.
I developed a general interest in music this past semester, partly so I could talk with my apartment mate who constantly blasts all the popular hits on his Beats Pill.
It’s not enough to say that these books hold a special place in my heart. They are the tangible embodiment of an ephemeral time, the happiest time of my life, that exists only in the memory of a select few.
I cannot emphasize enough how important Lamar’s win is for the music industry.
Like many of my favorite artists, Wale’s music has remained in my rotation because of a specific memory tied to the material.
I’ve resolved that I’m going to try and make my next few summers something worth remembering.
I haven’t found my group yet, and it’s a process of putting myself out there to do so.
I wrote in my personal statement in my initial application that writers, artists and creators of color gave me the confidence to finally harness the power of my background and exercise agency over my own experiences.