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    Standards of Care
    The Sun InterviewBy Naomi PittsStandards of CareRolonda Donelson on Bias and Anti-Science Attitudes in Medicine

    The reason Black women were used to develop the field of gynecology was because they were no more than property. They weren’t seen as people; they were just seen as things. The controlling of Black women’s bodies started with chattel slavery, but it continues today.

    Milk
    Readers WriteBy Our ReadersMilk

    Pumped for an infant, spilled at the dinner table, used as a tear gas antidote

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Browse Sections

Poetry

    Poetry

    Selected Poems

    — from “Estelle And Bob” | My father kneels at my mother’s grave / to ask her permission to go on match.com.

    By Michael MarkMay 2020
    Poetry

    Inheritance

    My great-aunt was not the type of lady to smoke / out on the porch. No, she lit up in her living room, and up / and down the stairs, and in her bedroom on hot / Mississippi nights with the windows thrown open.

    By Shuly Xóchitl CawoodMay 2020
    Inheritance
    Poetry

    In The Car Ahead

    He needs more time to brake / so he drives slow. He needs / more time to read traffic signs / so he drives slow.

    By Michael MarkApril 2020
    Poetry

    Staccato

    I’m trying to work at this coffee shop / while a young woman with blue hair / and chiseled biceps, two tables away, / holds forth about how no one / should ever take medication / for anxiety and depression

    By Alison LutermanMarch 2020
    Poetry

    Baptism

    My daughter writes on her Father’s Day card, / “Thanks for baptizing me in the stream / and planting the seed of nature-love in my soul.” / Wow. I am a lucky man.

    By Howard NelsonMarch 2020
    Baptism
    Poetry

    Selected Poems

    I returned home from work and stood / alone in the darkest / room in the house in my blouse / and skirt, barefoot.

    — from “After He Left”

    By Heather SellersMarch 2020
    Poetry

    Swimming Lessons

    late into california’s indian summer you climb / onto your father’s back    wrap your arms around his neck / and slide into the depths of your grandmother’s / pool

    By Brionne JanaeFebruary 2020
    Poetry

    After The Reading

    a woman walked up and asked how / the young black poet the month before / could shake with such anger during / his reading. Is it really / that bad? It can’t be that bad, / can it?

    By Gary JacksonFebruary 2020
    Poetry

    Peaches

    There were signs, I suppose. First she stopped lining up with the other kids for ice-cream sandwiches and chocolate bars. No dessert, she said.

    By Marion WinikJanuary 2020
    Poetry

    Lava

    Once, two women hiked a volcano, / stood on the lip, and watched the fire / move in the crater’s mouth.

    By Danusha LamérisJanuary 2020
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