One of the first sermons I ever preached was titled “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.”

Although I attended a black church my entire life, I was ordained into the Southern Baptist Convention, an organization complicit in the rise of the alt-right and whose troubling racial history and contemporaneous actions revealed a deep commitment to ignoring the influence of white supremacy. Last year, I wrote a…

This week, Betty Shelby, the Tulsa Police Officer who shot and killed Terence Crutcher—and claimed he “caused his own death” by “failing to comply” to her orders—will teach a course to other police officers about “Surviving the Aftermath of a Critical Incident.”

Updated: Monday, July 17, 2018; 3:53 EDT: When I wrote this piece, I was not aware that, according to court records, Chris Young sexually assaulted a woman in front of her three children at gun point the morning before the murder.

I was 34 years old when I could no longer escape the man I never wanted to see again.

I was walking home from my friend G’s house when I noticed the bright-orange cutoff notice on the door.

From 1979 to 1981, at least 28 black boys and young adults were murdered in the South. Atlanta Monster is a podcast that explores the disturbing and complicated case of Wayne Williams, the person a jury found guilty of what has come to be known as the “Atlanta Child Murders.”

Black Panther is the official movie of Black History Month 2018—but after I watched the movie, a nagging question lurked in the back of my mind.

The Grammys rarely get it right.

I love a good bad movie. You know them: Meteor Man, I’m Gonna Git You Sucka, Undercover Brother [Editor’s note: Undercover Brother is a brilliant movie, making it good good. —P.J.], Pootie Tang, Crash. Films that are laughably absurd, either on purpose or by accident, but still manage to entertain.

2017 was a great year for black movies and TV shows, but one would not know it if one looked only at most critics’ year-end top 10 lists.

The last time I saw my grandmother alive was at my uncle Bobby’s funeral. She looked tired. Grandma breathlessly said, “Hello,” almost unable to get out of her chair. We did our usual routine. I told her how much I missed her. How I wished I had more time to stay but had to hit the road. I needed to be in Oklahoma…

My son Quinn loves Christmas. Like—he loves it in a watch-How the Grinch Stole Christmas-on-the-Fourth of July kind of way.

The best Christmas songs are ones that can be played while sipping brown liquor.

From the Temptations’ “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and Donny Hathaway’s “This Christmas” to John Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things” to Oscar Peterson’s “White Christmas,” black folks have contributed to the sonic landscape of the Christmas holiday in unforgettable fashion.

The man from New York City’s Brooklyn borough is having a good year.

I first learned of my cousin’s lynching when I was 10 years old. During the summer, I often spent time at my uncle Johnny’s house, but that summer, my great-grandmother, a wizened old black woman whose face spoke of years of enduring the weight of patriarchy and white supremacy, was often there, too.

This week at VSB, we’re running a series called Albums That Changed My Life in which different writers let you in on the music that helped shape and mold them into the people they are today. We’re kicking things off with Lawrence Ware, for whom Jodeci’s Forever My Lady album changed the game.

Dear L.J.,