racial identity

When Moms Get political: Protest and Parenthood in Celeste Ng’s Our Missing Hearts

by | May 9, 2023

Acree Macam reflects on the murder of Tortuguita, activist parents and children, and Celeste Ng’s Our Missing Hearts

Cover of Celeste Ng's book "Our Missing Hearts"

Pocas Pero Locas, Episode 3: “Wassup, M’ija?”

by | June 1, 2021

After a gang unit stopped my 14 year old cousin for driving in a stolen hoopty, they took her to Eastlake Juvenile Hall and handed her over to a new abuser: a cop.

Desiree Gurba

Pocas Pero Locas, Episode 2: Chicken Soup for the Homies’ Soul

by | May 27, 2021

An older homegirl, a hood mom whom Desiree considered her mentor, announced, "I'm jumping you in."

Desiree Gurba

Pocas Pero Locas: An Interpersonal Chicana Essay Where Two Primas Make Sure Shit Gets Told Right

by | May 18, 2021

Myriam Gurba writes about her cousin Desiree, female gangsters, cholas, Mexican bad asses with big hair, and the criminalization of survivors.

Myriam and Desiree Gurba, 1988

But You Don’t Look Asian: On Being Entitled to Pain

by | May 4, 2021

Who deserves to feel the pain of anti-Asian violence? Who deserves to take up space with their rage? As a mixed-race person, am I allowed to be here? Do I belong?

Asian protester in NYC

Africa is a Continent, the United States of America is a Nation, but Blackness is My World

by | February 9, 2021

“African” and “American” do not define me. The words “African” and “American” seemed to be at war with one another. When I became a teenager, I started referring to myself as Black. Not African American, not Black American, just Black. To be Black is to be my own creation.

Black woman with sunglasses

Hilaria Baldwin & the Perverse Myth of Reverse Body-Shaming

by | December 31, 2020

Eating while beautiful isn't heroic. Neither is rubbing glitter into your butt's stretchmarks: Myriam Gurba on the weaponization of body positivity by Hilaria Baldwin and others.

Hilaria Baldwin - Shutterstock

When You Can’t Claim It, But You Can’t Escape It

by | December 15, 2020

Revisiting one of our favorite pieces from Tasteful Rude: “Are you Black?” my first crush, a white boy, asked me as we played together in the sandbox at school. I wasn’t sure. I thought of my nickname “negrita” but I didn’t know how to explain that I’m the darkest in my family or why it seemed perfectly natural to be identified by my pigmentation. When I couldn’t answer, he ran away from me.

Jessica Hoppe