Writing came to me when I began to examine the world around me. I used to beg my Mother for diaries and journals. Would get ahold of her spirals and flipped to the back for empty pages. Capturing the lives of those around me in scribbling, crooked sketches and whatever colors my crayons could make.

 

Later, after the loss of my Mother, writing became an abstract space for therapy. Writing grew beyond lined notebook paper. I sought after authors, speakers, artists and musicians that could speak to the lived experiences of Black American children. Writing introduced a vast world to me that was larger than my own. Across state-lines and oceans. Allowing me to be a welcomed guest sitting in on one's interpretations and colorful depictions of cultural identities and human interaction. As I continued to grow and navigate the world, I grew more in love with the art of storytelling. I longed to join the voices and art of those who are fearless in documenting, showcasing and celebrating our lived and imagined experiences. Be it essays, dissertations, novels, biographies, memoirs, poems, screenplays . . . 

​

I have much more work to do! Join me.

​

SThomas