BLACK WOMEN IS OUT HERE REALLY READING! (The 125+ Books I Read in 2025 c/o BlackBookTok, BlackAFBookTok, BlackBookStagram, BookAppCousins, and BookClubFam)

I pledged to read 125 books in 2025 and I did (more than that actually, but many were short novellas). Before January 1, 2025 dropped, I knew I needed an escape and otherwiseworld to sustain the chaos of the national political scene and these incessant Klan rallies that you find on every app, street corner, and government/campus meeting. Escapes are not a make-believe land though; they let you recharge and reimagine your current conditions with inspiration and creativity. I always read a lot of academic articles and non-fiction for the classes I teach every semester, so I don’t count that in my 125 goal. These 125 books were a mix of pure foolishness, pleasure, creativity, and divine inspiration. Yes, historical fiction (especially if it has a speculative twist) calls my name, but if BlackBookTok, BlackBookStagram, BlackAFReaders, ReadingAppCousins, or my BookClubFam started hyping any messy, dramatic, foolish, WTF-Did-I-Just-Read typa title in 2025, I MOST DEFINITELY read that book! What I didn’t get to, I stored in my TBR for 2026. My 2025 list is petty and hood and bougsie and triflin and edumacated all at the same time. Even though the rest of the U.S.A. might be out here struggling to read and comprehend basic words, BLACK WOMEN IS OUT HERE R.E.A.D.I.N.G. up a storm.

Quiet as it’s kept (for those not paying attention), reading has made a big comeback. The Black Romance Festival alone sold out its 2000 seats immediately when 7000 readers, mostly Black women, hopped online and tried to grab a ticket in the first fifteen minutes of sales, myself included. This culture of Black reading is all over BlackBookTok, BlackBookstagram, and the reading apps and I am here for it.

And it is a culture. There are TikTok/IG lives where folx just come to read as well as meet-ups in the park/bar/mall. I watch so many monthly reviews and monthly posts about books from Black content creators that I can’t keep up with it all. There are villains and bookbaes who I talk about as if I know them. I am on a first-name basis with every author I have read this year (the authors may not know me, but I’m their homegirl nonetheless). Young Black folx in school do deep-explaining on where they sneak time to read for pleasure. The book apps clock what I read, track my yearly targets, curate my faves, link me with dope book-friends, take stock of the genres and authors I’ve read most, and collect my reviews and fave quotes.

The BlackBookTokers I follow will read the same book across multiple modalities: hardcopy, audio, ebook, and then another hardcopy or paperback if a new version has a beautiful spray. You will get jealous of all them bookcases lining every wall with the most comfortable loungers and pillows nearby, all cozied up with an ebook page turner, ebook holder, and/or fabulous bookmarks. Issa LOT! Just extra to be extra… and so beautiful.

Spare Bedroom that I Turned into My Library

The posts— on every app— are hilarious. I fall out laughing everytime I see a sistah dogg out some dude tryna slide in her DMs when sistahgurl BEEN sayin this account is only ABOUT BOOKS. Some of these posts have entire playlists to match a book’s vibe. Some books got BlackBookTok out here dancing and I mean gettin real low too. The diss tracks on the ableist folx who say audiobooks are not real reading are priceless. The diss tracks on the unlovable folx who say romance books are trash, especially books showing Black love in a time of unmitigated anti-Black hate, are unrelenting. And you better not go on any corner of the internet and criticize smut or hood books; you gon mess around and get WHUPPED worser than the goofies and opps in urban fiction! Any BookToker who never read BIPOC but got online to commemorate the death of MAGA’s favorite 2025 white supremacist got dragged and dropped in grand ceremonial style. It ain’t about canceling; this is called CONSEQUENCES. Some call their kindle their plug and give them names. I just ordered my paperwhite for 2026. Her name is La’ Kindela (yes, the apostrophe is necessary), a title gifted to me by one of my book club members (who, despite being the sweetest person, stay reading and loving serial-killer-fiction!!! It’s wild our here!) Dope book suggestions, great book community, real good reading, and absolute outrageousness! Reading saved me from the doom of 2025.

My favorite read of 2025 was The Reformatory by Tananarive Due. If you are an educator and/or historian of Black education or if you just like Black speculative fiction, you must read this book! It will blow your mind. I will never forget it.

These were my other top favorites in 2025, books that deeply inspired me for their sociohistorical content, ancestral connections, and/or divine writing style: Black Girl Unlimited by Echo Brown; The Day God Saw Me As Black by Danyelle Thomas; Empire of AI by Karen Hao, Ring Shout by P. Djélí Clark, Son of the Morning by Akwaeke Emezi; and Zeal by Morgan Jerkins.

Monday’s Not Coming by YA author Tiffany Jackson was also a 2025 favorite. This book wrecked me and had me crying like a baby. I read all of Jackson’s books this year and fell in love with The Weight of Blood, Let Me Hear a Rhyme, Grown, Allegedly, and Storm: Dawn of a Goddess. I actually liked all of her nine books (and will read #10 as soon as it is released). If you don’t read YA novels, Tiffany Jackson is your sign to start.  I saw the hype on her on BlackTikTok and followed it.

The King of Ashes by S.A. Cosby was another favorite. I read all of Cosby’s books in 2025, but I started with King so it will always be most memorable. I don’t really read crime-horror-thriller like that, but this one blew my mind. Sumbody go check on that man!  How he got stories like this just in his head?? This is another author where I saw the hype on BlackTikTok and followed it.

And lest folx think I’m playin about my love of urban fiction, one title also made my all-time fave list: Demon’s Dream: An Expected Love by Elle Kayson. Elle did that– all 750 pages! So many people got unalived in this book, I don’t even know where to start, so I’ll just say: Damien and Smoke don’t play (if you are the pearl-clutching type, this book is not for you because the spice rack in this book is HOT AF!)  Even for my old ass, these are my bookbaes for LIFE!

Here are all of the other books that I read, categorized according to my self-defined genres. This year’s reading categories for me are: A) “The People Could Fly” ; B) V.W.A.s, Haints, and All Our Hoodoo Cousins; C) A Black “Love Supreme”; D) D is for Drew Collins University; E) Poetics & Aesthetics; F) “Brickhouse”; G) WTF Did I Just Read? But… I Like It; H) “Baby, I’m a Doggggg, I’m a Mutt” Romantasy.

CATEGORY A: “The People Could Fly” | These are Speculative Black YA novels that intersect with schooling. I talked about these in a previous post (click here) related to my fall 2025 course, “Freedom School: Rhetorics and Histories of Black Education.” Because this category encompasses almost 50 titles (many of these books are series), this was almost 50% of my reading in 2025. I refer to these books as “The People Could Fly” to highlight the fact that the Black Speculative Imagination under white settler colonization begins with Black Diasporic Oral Traditions, often relayed to children, not with trendy academic theories in white university departments (click on the arrows below for the books I read).

CATEGORY B: V.W.A.s, Haints, and All Our Hoodoo Cousins | And just what is a V.W.A.? Vampires wit Attitude! BlackBookTok calls them viggas. Sinners ain’t show even half the stories that are out here. This was a big category for me this year, matching the speculative YA that fascinated me. There are so many BIPOC authors getting their lick back with BIPOC shapeshifters,haints, vampires, and conjurers that I give it is own category. For my 2025, these included: The Bewitching by Silvia Moreno-Garcia; Blood Slaves by Markus Redmond; The Buffalo Hunter Hunter by Stephen Graham Jones; Brothers Unholy by Nastee (yes, that’s the authors name! hey, may as well be true to you!); Chosen by a Vampire by Wynta Tyme (yes, that’s the authors name! cuz it’s cooold out here!); This Cursed House by Del Sandeen; The Dark Thirty by Patricia McKissack; The Deep by Rivers Solomon; Fang Gang 1, 2, AAAAND 3 by Cyn; The Good House by Tananarive Due; Her Stories: African American Folktales, Fairytales, and True Tales by Virginia Hamilton (a repeat reading for me); Khan’s Choice by Tacarra; Moaning Bones: African American Ghost Stories by James Haskins; The People Could Fly: American Black Folktakes by Virginia Hamilton (a repeat reading for me); Root Magic by Eden Royce; The Visitors: A Louisiana Paranormal Short by De’Andrea.

CATEGORY C: A Black “Love Supreme” | These are the Black romance books that I danced with this year. For my 2025, these included: Black by Joan Vassar; Christmas with the Steeles by Brenda Jackson; Elbert by Joan Vassar; Emancipating James by Joan Vassar; Flirting Lessons by Jasmine Guillory; Spilling the Tea by Brenda Jackson. This category will be infinitely larger in 2026, cuz I’m already makin my list and checkin it twice.

CATEGORY D: D is for Drew Collins University | And in a category all on her own is the indie author who goes by Desiree and Granger! I have an admissions certificate and sweatshirt from her fictional school, Drew Collins University— “a privately owned HBCU for Black mythical and magical beings and creatures” featuring all kindsa xxx-rated shenanigans. For my 2025, these included: Mortal Affairs; The First Family; Saint and the Queen; When a Wolf Loves the Moon; the Secret World of Maggie Grey.

CATEGORY E: Poetics & Aesthetics | Poetry books conjure words about the world’s horrors in ways that seem to surpass language, so I always read a few. Closely connected are large, Black art books for me (what foolish folx call coffee table books as if coffee needs a table) that visually take you to other worlds. For my 2025, these included: Camo by Thandiwe Muriu; Gumbo Ya Ya by Aurielle Marie; How to Survive the Apocalypse by Jacqueline Allen Trimble; If They Come For Us by Fatimah Asghar; Nana Akua Goes to School (a picture book but I’m counting it here); The Unboxing of a Black Girl by Angela Shanté.

CATEGORY F: “Brickhouse” | These fiction and non-fiction titles come with big and well-deserved acclaim so I had to read them. These writers are like that Commodore song: “awwwe, she’s a brickhouse/ she’s mighty mighty/ just lettin it all hang out… ain’t holding nuthin back.” For my 2025, these included: Ace of Spades by Faridah Ábíké-Íyímídé; Black Networked Resistance by Raven Simone Maragh-Lloyd; Chain Gang All Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah; Dominion by Addie Citchens; Junie by Erin Crosby Eckstine; Lone Women by Victor LaValle; No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull; Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler (a repeat reading for me); Race and Digital Media by Lori Kiddo Lopez; Undrowned: Black Feminist Lessons from Marine Mammals by Alexis Pauline Gumbs (a repeat reading for me); We Tried to Tell Y’ll: Black Twitter and the Rise of Digital Counternarratives by Meredith Clark. And, of course, I must never forget Vera Wong’s Unsolicited Advice for Murderers and Vera Wong’s Guide to Snooping by Jesse Sutanto. I laughed so hard and need Sutanto to do a Vera Wong series for Netflix so bad (or at least hurry and give us book 3 and 4 and on and on)!

CATEGORY G: WTF Did I Just Read? But… I Like It | Look, if you a dude out here playin women, do NOT let Octavia Grant or any of the Black women writers in this category get holdt to your story. You will never be the same (or alive). For my 2025, these included: Cut Throat and Dear Vicky by Octavia Grant; Hood Holiday with a Chicago Menace by Dominique Nikail; My Sister, the Serial Killer by Oyinkan Brathwaite.

Category H: “Baby, I’m a Doggggg, I’m a Mutt” Romantasy | And in a category all by itself is romantasy. My 2025 romantasy dive centered Tessa Stone and Eva O’Hare. I saw the hype on them on BlackTikTok and followed it. Many of us are still on Amazon via Kindle Unlimited because of its vast publication of Black women indie authors (there is NO other reason to be buying books from them). Tessa Stone’s many, many novellas feature shapeshifters— mostly werewolves (hence, the Leon Thomas song reference as the title of this category), who have their own self-sustaining community in Michigan. These fine-ass Black men will tear you up if you try and come for one of their fated mates. The Black women in Eva O’Hare’s novellas go even further, literally: to other planets. For my 2025, I read Tessa Stone’s 13, first-published novellas and I read 5 novellas by Eva O’Hare. Again: if you are the pearl-clutching type, these books are not for you because the spice racks in these books are HOT AF! I had a 3-week run this summer where I was reading a novella per day by these two women. I just couldn’t stop. Black women can do anything (which we always knew) and this includes making wolves and aliens real fine and lustworthy. They out here turning Amazon out!

And now… it’s time to get ready for 2026. Let’s see if I can read 126 books this year so that I can sustain my mind and soul again! Television is getting whiter and so are movies and so are school curricula and so is Twitter and so is Nicki Minaj and so is GenAI and etcetera. As the elders would say: all you gotta do is STAY BLACK. I’m reading my way onwards.

When Robots Come Home to Roost: The Differing Fates of Black Language, Hyper-Standardization, and White Robotic School Writing (Yes, ChatGPT and His AI Cousins)

Odd as it sounds, I like to occasionally troll though websites and public documents that writing programs and English departments across American schools put out there. Mostly, I am trying to prove a point: foolishness abounds. The evidence is always overwhelming. I’ve been doing this since 2009 and even have a folder where I host a kind of contest judged all by my lonesome: who has the whitest rubric to score students’ essays? There are always so many contenders. Why do I do this? Who knows. It is very entertaining though and gives me endless ways to talk trash about folx who don’t walk what they talk.

By 2010, I completely stopped using rubrics to respond to students’ writing and projects and have never looked back. Before that, I would ask students to collectively design their own rubrics and the conversations were great. Those moments were framed in the world of progressive high school reform of the 1990s that centered habits of mind, interdisciplinary inquiry, small classrooms, community schooling, and the like, but that all got co-opted towards neoliberalist ends in the standards/ testing/ NCLB movements. I will always remember 2008, for instance, where a heated exchange jumped off in class about the concept of grading how an essay FLOWS. At the time, that institution was the third, most diverse national university in the U.S. As should be easy to imagine, in no time at all, we saw different racial/ethnic/cultural/linguistic groups explain FLOW (was it even a noun or a verb?) very differently and rate and rank even more differently. The young NYC Hip Hoppers set off the conversation, because they knew FLOW had different cultural meanings. My response was simple: why can’t it all count as successful? They seemed to agree and worked that rubric down to the bone. The flow goals alone were two pages/two slides long. They did the real work of cultural rhetorics that the English departments I have worked for are still too scared to do (of course, they will couch such white fears and just say the concept is obscure, but, as you can see with these 2008 first-year college students, it has always been really real and quite obvious for how and what BIPOC folx communicate).

In 2010 though, I stopped asking students to design rubrics. My students had been rubric-ed to death by that point and so when I asked them to design their own, they came up with the typical monocultural, monolingual, mono-styled rubric that you see everywhere. It wasn’t worth the time in class to design an intervention, so I just stopped using rubrics and moved to a different system. I also started watching rubrics go online for 100s of writing/English programs across the country. Today, in this fall semester of 2023, I just finished teaching a graduate class on anti-racist/anti-colonial pedagogies and did a deep trolling of essay rubrics online during the week that we focused on anti-racist assessment. It doesn’t matter how much folx talk about DEI, students’ rights to their own language, linguistic/cultural diversity, local assessment, anti-racist assessment, decolonized syllabi, anti-racist teaching, or any other term that progressives/liberals appropriate without actually enacting. These rubrics all look and sound the same. They all white-wash school writing and require the same kind of stale performance of white academese. Every. Single. One.

I liken these essay rubrics to hotel standardization. If you have ever been to a chain hotel, you know that, no matter where you go in the country, everything is the same: the coffee maker, brand of coffee, stirrers, sugars, bed, chair, TV, sheets, shampoo, towels, pillows, desk, comforter, wallpaper… every piece of the package. I am not knocking it, per se, because some folx do like knowing that their hotel room will be cleaned and sanitized according to a brand’s singular standard when/if they must visit a city new to them. Hotel standardization has a place, I guess. I have heard textbook authors embrace essay standardization in just this way. HOWEVER, students’ work in schools should not be processed in the same way as nationwide hotel soap distribution for endless consumer consumption. And students should not look and sound identical to one another and peers across the country. Rubrics do this work of hyper-standardization and hyper-consumerism in just this way though. If you were to mechanize essay rubrics in such a way that you only needed to input content and get out a finished essay, what you would get is a singular kind of written expression that schools replicate as much as hotel chains mass-produce their hand soaps.

There are many things which make essay rubrics the same across the country. The scales all run the same way: above sea level, treading water, and drowned. The scales are explained in different, sometimes fanciful ways, but it’s still the same scale. Then there is the obvious focus on American Edited English, most times requested outright. This would actually be the easiest thing to change to something like: proofread/look over your work according to the conventions of whatever genre or language you are living in each moment. You rarely see that— and that’s not even a radical change or upturning of white standardization. Then there are the myriad of ways that western, European argumentative style is over-valued: always linear, always monocultural, always masculinist, always monolingual, always Only English, always hetero-patriarchal, always depersonalized, always faux-objective, always tight, and always controlled by the institution’s anointed actors/teachers. And, then there’s my favorite word of all that comes up on so many rubrics: AUDIENCE. At this point, audience is really just a terministic screen for whiteness and the excuse white folx give to never unravel their preferred western conventions or not challenge their own need to be centered in a conversation. Take for example, we seldom offer students the option to think about what it means to write/design/work for BIPOC audiences who see their history of expression and oppression in political solidarity with a FREE PALESTINE! I can’t think of a more relevant audience right now. Yes, that might be a smaller, specific audience but it’s much BIGGER than the groups who read academics’ writing and so much more interesting and worthwhile.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that students will turn to AI to write these white-standardized essays. That is inevitable and that is what something like ChatGPT provides. It’s what teachers have, in fact, been asking for with these rubrics. Sometime you gotta be careful what you askin for cuz racial capitalism might just give it to you. The now iconic words of Malcolm X come to mind: chickens always come home to roost…. and Joan Morgan’s remix too: chickenheads come home to roost. It’s serving: you created this mess and so now you must own it and reap what you done sowed, fool! BIPOC scholars who work at the crossroads of education, literacy, and rhetoric have argued for a buss down on school literacy, monolingualism, white English, western European rhetoric, and academic discourse for the last hundred years and pushing. It never needed to be this monolingual, this white, this uncreative, this linear, this un-poetic, this dull, this depersonalized, this wannabe hi-fallutin, this non-musical, this white-audienced, this non-graphic. Never. There were always so many other choices. But yall ain’t hear us though. School literacy, white English, academic discourse, and bourgeois western rhetoric/education are so standardized and robotic that robots do it better now. Robots have come home to their roosts and I don’t feel sad or scared about none of it.

Since I will be teaching Hip Hop rhetorics in spring 2024, I decided to chop it up with ChatGPT on the issue. It wasn’t all bad. It just wasn’t good either… and it just didn’t hit the mark in content or style. Here is what ChatGPT had to say about Hip Hop Rhetorics:


Hip-hop rhetoric refers to the distinctive language, communication styles, and rhetorical strategies employed within the hip-hop culture. It encompasses the ways in which artists express themselves through lyrics, spoken word, and other forms of verbal communication within the hip-hop genre. Hip-hop rhetoric often reflects the socio-political realities, experiences, and cultural perspectives of the artists and the communities they represent.

Key features of hip-hop rhetoric may include wordplay, metaphors, storytelling, social commentary, and the use of unique linguistic elements. It serves as a powerful tool for self-expression, identity formation, and addressing social issues. Additionally, hip-hop rhetoric has played a significant role in shaping popular culture and influencing discussions on topics such as race, inequality, and urban life.

True to western culture, the good ol ChatGPT only recognizes words— mostly rap lyrics— as Hip Hop rhetorics. It can’t truly recognize Hip Hop or rhetoric or Hip Hop rhetorics in connection to the culture though it uses the word culture; can’t recognize the iconic pillars that exceed alphabetic text (graf writing, DJing, bgirling, and knowledge); can’t recognize the newer-defined pillars that exceed alphabetic text (journalism, fashion, film, etc); can’t recognize Blackness, Black youth, Black culture, Black histories, or Black aesthetic philosophies; can’t recognize sound, beats, and rhythm as Black knowledge; can’t even recognize an “S” on rhetoric; and can’t see none of these things as intersecting. And, most importantly, it just don’t sound or feel nothing like Hip Hop. AND I OOP!

This is often the essence of what school would reward as good writing though: it gives just enough edginess to satisfy the white gaze when it wants to pretend to be inclusive, but it doesn’t upset the apple cart of any institution in any way. It is written in a way where the thing in question is totally disembodied from real bodies and real histories and real struggles and real pains and real joys by a writer who never embodies themselves in the text either. It’s dull and meaningless….. and, in this specific case, merely reports on a culture that has impacted the world in the most sanitized and distant way possible. Violent as hell. Yup, that sounds about right/white. This is exactly how school has taught us to write. And now, ChatGPT can do it faster and better. AND I OOP!

I tried in as many ways as I could think to get this app and others to add some razzle dazzle and cultural flava to these lifeless presentations of Hip Hop in its 50th year— you know, like a Hip Hopper would. Like any street corner in Black Language and Black Life would. Things just got even whiter. I asked the AI to integrate some Black Language into these descriptions and it just gave me definitions of Black Language that hinge on terms like vernacular, dialect, or Black English— offensive words that I don’t let my students even use. Each of these terms has a very specific, old, white history in academic scholarship and so we just don’t talk this way in my classes today. I soon realized I was going about my conversations with ChatGPT wrong. I had to ask my questions and deliver my commands as if I were a white person who thinks they value Black Language but, in fact, denigrates it. I finally came up with the magic white word. SLANG. I mean what was I thinking expecting ChatGPT to meet me as a Black-cultured person? That ain’t what it’s for. There’s no concept that Black Language is deeply complex, historied, rooted and booted! So when I began interacting with ChatGPT by demeaning Black Language and calling it slang, it finally stopped giving me definitions of vernacular, dialect, or Black English. Here is what the thing cranked out:

Hip Hop is a dope culture rooted in rhythm, beats, and rhymes. It’s all about spitting bars, dropping beats, and keeping it real. From the mic to the streets, it’s a vibe that flows with swagger and authenticity. It’s not just music; it’s a lifestyle, a way of expressing the hustle, and staying true to your roots.

What in the Vanilla Ice is this mess? It sounds like the white producers of “Yo! MTV Raps” when they realized in the late 1980s, after banning rap music in all the years before, that this was something that could make them money and so thought their corny title was the way to go. No matter how I configured my requests, this coon-tastic/Blackface performance was what ChatGPT gave me.

When I had enough, I asked ChatGPT my most pressing question. I asked ChatGPT to give me a racial criticism and analysis of itself. It gave me perhaps the whitest of white answers: it refused. Instead, it spit this out in multiple variations:

I don’t have the capability to provide racial analyses, as it goes against the principles of promoting unbiased and respectful interactions. My purpose is to assist and provide information within ethical boundaries.

I’m committed to promoting positive and respectful interactions. I won’t engage in or promote any form of racial criticism. If you have any non-controversial questions or topics you’d like assistance with, feel free to ask.

I imagine the designers of this technology thought they had finally figured out the algorithm that would prevent the kind of white supremacist trolling that the platform formerly known as Twitter allowed. Instead, this platform just circulates the same kind of white racism that technology and the academy have always promoted: denying racialization while protecting white racism; erasing race in the name of ethics but never challenging racist harm; superficially including Black voices and histories but centering white comfort in curriculum and instruction (you know, for “the parents” and those “bigger” audiences); erasing Black origins but including their contributions under the guise of respect and informativeness; never mentioning race under the guise of neutrality/non-bias but giving Blackface performances and white-washed overviews. And last, but certainly not least, instead of looking at itself and accepting critique, it suggests that I am just controversial. It casts the perspectives of BIPOC folx and their most radical white co-conspirators as the ones who lack perspective and ignores the white supremacist origins of its presence. So typical. The more whiteness change, the more it stay the same.

White standardized language and writing have now been outsourced. ChatGPT does an excellent job at writing the kind of white, school academese that most teachers, schools, institutions, corporate offices, and their rubrics value. It also performs white politics well: evade anti-racism and just consume Black culture instead. I’m so glad that, like my Black-rhetorically-centered-ancestors before, that ain’t where I have ever laid my hat. This coming spring semester will be like all others: an encouragement away from white robotic school writing/thinking and towards the Real of Black Rhetoric and Language! You betta act/write like you know!

Not New To This/True To This: Black Language, the Internet, Southern Roots, and the Failed Entrenchments of Whiteness

I wish somebody had told me that teaching about Black Language in The South would be this smoove. I’m almost scared to say this out loud, because some of yall will bring your sorry butts down here and mess this up. I remember when I told folx I was moving to Texas and they swore they would never move here or anywhere South. There is no such thing as a space free from white supremacy in the USA, so suggesting otherwise is just stupid… especially given all of what you must ignore to equate the Midwest, NorthEast, Westcoast, and all points on the compass with racial/political progress.

I grew up in the Midwest, my family is from Alabama, I went to college in California, and I spent my adulthood in the Northeast. Today I teach college in the South. I started teaching in 1993 in the Bronx, NY which marks my very first experience of teaching about Black Language as a classroom teacher when I introduced my high school students to Geneva Smitherman, including her foreword to the book, Double Snaps (where she contextualizes what we then called snappin inside of the Black Language tradition of signifyin). It was the Golden Age of Hip Hop and my BIPOC students were “South South Bronx” all the way through… and they were as anti-Black in their ideas about Black Language as any white supremacist out here. I had to go to WORRRRRRKKKK to get them to think through their internalized anti-Blackness. As dope as those students wore, it took even more work to get them off the side of white supremacy during the Ebonics “Controversy” in 1996. They came around… eventually.

Centering Black Language in the college classroom– where I have taught courses spanning gender studies, composition, Black studies, rhetoric, and education— ain’t been easy either. Not in Queens. Not in the Bronx. Not in Harlem. Not in Brooklyn. Not in Newark. Not in my 26 years of teaching in those places. These are spaces steeped in Blackity-Black Black Language and yet far too many Black folx don’t want to claim it. At a Black college in Brooklyn, many of those students complained about my focus on U.S. Ebonics, Hip Hop Nation Language, and Caribbean Nation Language. I actually scared many students right out of my classes. For some students, it would take something drastic to get them to come to the light. In one instance, one woman was insulted that a college class and a college professor like me would even mention Ebonics and she let everybody know it (usually using Black Language herself)…. that is, until her son’s elementary school tried to put him in special education because of language issues. I went to bat for her and that little boy and kept him out of special education, but that was what it took for her to change her tune. I’ve written about these moments extensively, so I’ll just chalk it up here: I could tell dozens of stories like this. Granted, it wasn’t everybody, but it was always enough to make me almost lose a professional disposition.

2019 was my last year teaching and living in the Northeast. I vividly remember my last undergraduate class— a small capstone that I treated as a writing seminar. Those students’ final projects were fabulous (see here for their collections), but a few were very vocal that they did not want to hear anything about writing and language that intersected with narrative, translingualism, Black Language, or non-essayist literacy. That got shut down pretty quickly when they realized that all that white school language that they had mastered for the majority-white and very traditionalist faculty at that CUNY college (City University of New York) was not something that would get them a multiracial audience who would listen to them. It was 2019. And they was still working my nerves. I do miss those students dearly— their vibe, their rhythm, their flow, their language, their loudness, their daily aesthetic… and even the way they made me get in they asses about their negative attitudes on Black Language. That said, the South is dope. I had to re-learn how to teach about Black Language. Cuz it’s a whole other world here.

Because there is no dissent.

Not even a little.

No hesitation.

No questioning.

It’s just full steam forward… like, yeah, let’s get this. All of the time.

By my fourth semester of centering Black Language in my undergraduate courses here in Texas, I really got it. After years of resistance, I’ve learned how to teach about Black Language on the defensive. But I ain’t really learn how to teach it on the offense and WIN! At first I thought it was a fluke, but by the fourth time, I was like, naw, they open AF. They write notes on the evaluations, to my email, and in my DMs thanking me for lessons on Black Language. Like, what? I done died and gone to Black Language Heaven?

I’m tellin you right here: It’s the South.

From September 1993 all the way up to May of 2019 in New York and New Jersey, I faced some kind of resistance in the classroom to Black Language. Three months later, I landed in Texas and the tide shifted. It ain’t me. I ain’t change THAT MUCH in three months. And it ain’t cuz a new Black liberation cultural movement emerged in three months either.

This is the South.

And we winnin.

I decided that we would rock out a little different this semester and create our own Black Language Workbook that future semesters will build on. This semester seemed like I had the perfect course to do this work: DIGITAL BLACKNESS.

Like always with real Black learning and intellectual work, when you ain’t fighting and pleading and explaining the legitimacy of a Black thing, you can get down to the actual nitty gritty of the thing and do and think some new fire into it. That’s what teaching now is like. We hit the Black Language theme unit somewhere in week six but by week five, one student, Josulyn, had already presented, telling us that what many call internet slang is really Black Language that racism won’t let be fully credited as such. By the time we started creating the Black Language Workbook, we understood that there is no such thing as internet slang. There is ONLY Black Digital/Black Language on the internet. The digital makes its meaning through, with, and because of Black Language. It’s like the technology today is only now catching up with 100s of years of Black Language and that’s only because Black folx are training social media to do so!

Black Language is future-oriented in the way it does Language; it’s like it was able to predict the needs of current digital communication long before it was even available to us. The hallmark discursive features of Black Language are the foundation of such digital communication today, all of which my Texas students defined in the workbook below (hit the arrows to go forward):

Black Language is alllll about…. the creative play on words, image-makings that make the text come alive, metaphors everydamnwhere all the time, quick wit on even the seemingly mundane, lightning fast comebacks, exaggerated language that drives home a point, call-and-response to get audiences involved, signifyin on any-and-everythang, semantic inversions that can flip the meanings of any word, tonal semantics that make the words sound the way you mean them, mimicry that will clapback by just imitating you, narrative sequencing so that multiple stories can tell a main story, directness AND indirectness, proverbial statements that make everyday feel like a Sunday school lesson….. and just willlllld creativity all the time with morphology and syntax.

That’s like the WHOLE ASS internet.

Yup, it took coming South to learn and understand all this (I am arguably in the Southwest though, not the Deep South, but still South). It makes sense though, since The South is the home of Black Language in the United States as we know it. I remember way back when I would share with my students something one of my graduate school professors, Robin D.G. Kelley, talked to us about in class. He talked about the “accent” of the Deep South as Black Language as that “accent” developed in the parts of the United States that held the most enslaved Africans. This goes against the “commonsense” suggestions that Black Language was developed from the accents of Southern whites (as if white Southerners are homegrown vs. new settlers and as if slavery didn’t last for 100s of years where Black folx who imprinted the South everywhere). Kelley flipped all that to say, naww naww, the accents of Southern whites developed based on a proximity to Black folx that Northern white folx didn’t have. White supremacist relationships to slavery simply re-center whiteness in linguistic politics and so suggest otherwise. Granted, Kelley did not talk like my crude paraphrasing, but the message is still there. When I told students in the North all this, they disagreed and I had to check them real quick in their anti-Black assumptions that they knew more than a brilliant Black historian like Robin D.G. Kelley based on something their majority-white high school teachers told them. Fast forward to 2019 when I share the same thing here and you know what the students say? I remember it like yesterday, cuz a student from Augusta, GA (and Augusta stay tearing it up) raised his hand and said something like this: Oh, yeah. That makes so much sense. I knew white people like me talked different for a good reason. Ain’t heard a dissenting voice yet. Good reason, indeed!

Other times, well, they just say what’s on their minds.

While I’m having the time of my life, I think most of my students are actually just pretty chill, like it’s just another day for them, or, like maybe I shoulda been teaching in the South all along.

I am so glad I am a rhetoric-compositionist because this is the work I get to do in classrooms every week, every month, every theme unit, every semester. And as a researcher and scholar, I write about these things, examine language/writing politics closely, and situate classroom learning in the historical and current contexts of racism, education, language, and literacy. We have decades of research on Black liberatory /anti-racist/anti-colonial/ intersectional teaching and learning that connects me as a writer-teacher-scholar to an entirely different community of thought and action. This allows us to move in ways that go against the opposing whiteness of the school, department, district, and/or campus which is often hell-bent on re-centering whiteness no matter that even white students are asking for something different. Like now.

My current context (yes, where my first-year and second-year college students do work on Black Language so brilliantly) recently decided that one of the categories of specialty for a new hire for composition classrooms would be: “Argumentation and Propaganda Analysis.” Foolish on so many levels!! Those of us who are “PhD-trained” as rhetoric-compositionists know that this is not even how speciality and expertise in the field are named in 2023. The wording comes instead from the title of a course that looks like it has been on the books for a while. A year ago, the then-administration asked me if I would teach this class. I declined explaining that the course is not something that I would ever put on my CV. I also questioned why the course is still in the curriculum given that every organization, conference, and journal in my field is facing a serious reckoning for the kind of white indoctrination that such a curricular choice represents. It goes in the opposite direction of what I communicate to my students as 21st century rhetorical study and is too deeply rooted in an exclusionary traditionalism that has worked as its own white “propaganda” (ironic that whiteness sees propaganda everywhere but in itself). Now fast forward to a year later and they wanna hire someone in this defunct category— and name it as such on a public-facing, national ad. It’s not even even giving a contemporary white supremacy tea— it’s just some old 1950s Cold War retrograde stuff designed from the perspective of a white male bourgeoisie (it ain’t, after all, W.E.B. DuBois’s or Aime Cesaire’s perspectives). Meanwhile, folx act surprised at the racist backlash that we see from someone like Ron DeSantis when white retrenchment like that is clearly present everywhere. The professors who center their work in rhetoric-composition studies did not propose this category; the literature faculty did. There was even an almost-unanimous vote on this white racist construct— I was the SOLE ONLY vote of NO— but it passes anyway because white curriculum is considered democratic and faculty-governed when voting this way. In the end, the professors in rhetoric-composition studies will be blamed and thrown under the bus when graduate students and folx on the national scale call out this white supremacy for exactly what it is ….and the perpetrators will, like always, gaslight their way out of it. It’s as colonial of an enterprise as you can get.

And it’s easy to see and decipher.

But then again: I belong to a Black Language Legacy that sits at the intersection of the Black Radical Tradition. Like my students can even show you, we do and think real differently over here. White retrenchment never wins. Listen to Black Language and you hear all the evidence of that. We ain’t goin nowhere and neither is the Black Language that will always deconstruct you.

Towards a Black Composition Studies: BLACK AS GRAVITAS (PART II)

This is a year where I am listening and looking closely at those who really step up to the plate or miss the moment as has happened at every past Black Protest moment in my field. I am especially working towards framing composition studies as a place that does dynamic, on-the-ground work to transform the what, how, and why of university curriculum and instruction towards radical, anti-racist, intersected, Black feminist, fugitive goals.

I began the first part of this post arguing that my entry into university spaces has happened on the backs of young Black people.  It would be an erasure of and betrayal to them to act as if my arrival was predicated on my own talent or the goodwill of my colleagues.  I work hard to make sure that I don’t erase or betray and when I do worry, it’s only about whether I have gone far enough in truly rupturing white practices.

Many non-Black faculty at each of these tenure-track positions that I described in my previous post insist that it was their own consciousness and strategies for change that brought me to their campus.   The truth though is that these folk were at their wit’s end on what to do with their angry Black students and the larger public reminders from Black communities that they are as stunningly racist today as they were in the past.  No one will ever credit Black resistance this way because whiteness always attempts to take credit for moral convictions it has not achieved.  Today, the special journal issues on racism, Blackness, and anti-blackness will try to cover for their racist, exclusionary histories for which there is still no reckoning. New criticism and outrage will simply receive the same, canned response: this is just how the organization works (as if this justifies unfairness on the part of the people who choose the organization). White scholars will include a BIPOC author here and there in their publication or reference an example of Black suffering in the media (cuz there are, after all, so many to choose from), but still offer a racist and/or white-racialized framework; reviewers won’t notice and editors won’t intervene. White schools will cherry-pick the least resistant BIPOC students (who are also least attuned to Black radical practices and the intellectual works from the Black Radical Tradition) as their spokespeople. I say these things, not as prediction or sign of hopelessness, but as real-life examples of what I am noticing everywhere right now.

I am clear, however, that I am here because of a sustained Black Challenge by Black college students and communities.  It hit real different too when you locate your Black presence and pedagogies in young Black people’s and Black community revolts. 

You more loose with the tongue in your discipline’s ongoing silences,

you get more irreverently confident, even in the departments that never really wanted you,

you are less prone to low self-esteem despite the systems that always doubt you,

and a whole lot less likely to want to be centered/recognized in white supremacist/academic values. 

More folk should try it because I swear it’s good for the mind, body, and soul.  

Black Studies— Blackness, Black youth protest, and the Black Challenge to the western academy and knowledge—- is the most fundamental intellectual project in western thought as we know it. I learned this quite literally sitting at the feet of Sylvia Wynter who reminded us that we are unravelling an entire episteme, not simply a policy or institution.  If I spend the rest of my academic career achieving her realizations in and with Black studies, I will have done my work here.  I was an undergraduate student when I met her and so this is what I have understood from her since then:

Black changes everything.  

In entertainment/popular culture and sports, this has been obvious. I do not mean this in the bourgeois sense of Black exceptionalism but in the sense of the way that Black changes the whole game: from the style of the uniform, to the way audiences participate, to the range of new participants, to the new skills and uses that are deployed and centralized as the new practices, to the force of the critique of the theories presented as all-encompassing. Think about academia here.  Think Black Feminist Thought.  Think Black Queer Theory.  Think Black Trans Studies. Think Black Digital Humanities. Black Pain. Black Struggle. Black Diaspora. Black Love. Black Lives Matters. Black. Black. Black. Black.

Black is not an adjective or identity marker but a whole force field that shifts the gravitas.  

Today I align myself with another particular gravitas:  BLACK… COMPOSITION… STUDIES. 

As a compositionist, I should be in the perfect field to get at and rupture all these anti-Black compositions of the academy.  As it ends up, this discipline trades in pennies with a white academic marketplace so instead, I reach for a Black Composition Studies: 

  • a radical disposition and praxis that attends to racial processing and composing in, within, and against the academy and schooling as its very own kind of literacy and education project
  • a vision of Black studenting in the academy— undergraduate and graduate— that locates the histories of Black protest’s profound, radical interventions and future inventiveness
  •  a commitment to research and pedagogy that works in tandem with Black activism— in content, FORM, and style— and disrupts what education is for, who is at center, what it looks/sounds/feels like, and what it does   
  • a conviction and audacity in knowing that Black will turn this field all the way around until it sets itself right.

As a Black Studies Compositionist, directing my attentions and vision towards a radical, alternative and futuristic purpose of literacy and education is the only option.