By

Natalie A. Collier
Her shirt was light-colored, maybe white, but a button-down with a collar for sure. Long sleeves. She wore slacks, a blazer that might’ve been a lightweight leather, a bit strange, in hindsight. Her hair was pulled back tightly into a thin ponytail; it grabbed at the nape of her neck. A dark-colored cap was pulled...
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Yesterday evening, I drove around downtown Durham, North Carolina, looking for the place where the statue had been taken down. Thanks to a friend of a friend, I realized I’d driven right by it, unbeknownst to me, and was as unmoved by the recollection of it as I was when I just happened by the...
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People invite me places to talk to them. Sometimes the crowds are large; other times, they’re more intimate. But every time, they listen. I made the decision a while ago that I’d start saying what I wanted to say in case the invitations stopped. So today when the indomitable Deon Haywood from Women with a...
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