Views from a BrewTown Sista (aka The Chronicles of Kayleah H. Madison)

They say time is a healer. Or maybe a cruel joke. Maybe it's (in my opinion) the only true enemy in this entire world. No matter how you look at it, time is one things that actually never dies. We humans will only be here for so long; time will keep on movin' on. What the purpose of that is an anniversary has apparently passed me up. A sad one at that, too.  April 1995. I'm still at Dillard University in New Orleans. Got to come see my grandma during the Easter break and work on a class assignment about my family heritage. I spent almost an entire day looking up some info on what kinfolk do I have before my grandparents. Let me tell you something-if I was a white person, this task would be a breeze. Go to the records department at the county clerk's office, there ya go. Doesn't always work that way, especially for black folks like us? When you have grandparents that resided in the pre-Jim Crow South, chances of finding accurate records of your family's namesa

shit. this is THE song I play when I feel like crawling into a hole...don't feel any better afterwards.