Crafting How the Black Panthers Fell From the Sky
Of course, when I began my MFA program, my first professor, Kwame Dawes, said, “You should write about that which you are afraid to write.” He inspired me to take the plunge, peel back the time, and enter the era of my teenage participation with the Detroit Black Panther Party. Initially, I was scared to reminisce.
Oath
Each evening under the cocoa tree was a small rebellion against forgetting. They refused to weep until the truth returned, but in their sitting together they made their grief visible. They were waiting not only for their men, but for the permission to grieve.
Best Small Fictions
Announcing the Decolonial Passage Best Small Fictions nominees for 2025!
South African Elegy
The city puffs plumes of smoke into the air that blend right / in with the clouds. I can’t breathe when we stop at the red light, / right next to a child reaching out an empty McDonald’s cup to the / traffic.
Ink Thick as Blood
Even though Japan had annexed Okinawa twenty years before she was born, Haa-mee’s generation never thought of themselves as Japanese. And though Japan banned tattooing, many families continued the practice in secret.
Where is our ancient town?
Where is our ancient town? / Oh, father, who am I? / Where is our ancient town? / Where is our city?
Pushcart Prize Nominations 2025
Announcing the Decolonial Passage Pushcart Prize nominees for 2025.
Basement Refuge
This rented basement is soundproof, so when / the bass guitar of homesick, make-up band shudders / for a gone homeland, its resonance / pounding into the ground floor, / island children become the beat
The Best American Essays
Congratulations to Stone Mims, Kimberly Nao, and Gemini Wahhaj! Decolonial Passage has nominated their essays for consideration and possible publication.
Separate Lessons of Summer
About mid-way through the three blocks separating the Black and white sections of town, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the wad of money. In his hand was three dollars. Daniel immediately felt angry. Some customers always gave him more than they owed. Others often offered him lemonade or cookies after he mowed their lawns on scorchingly hot days. Today, he’d missed baseball practice and worked all day.
A Letter to My Grandfather
It occurred to me then that you’d impossibly waged war against Jim Crow for your entire life to maintain your dignity, and you feared that death would rob you of it. As I said before, I don’t know if people are conscious of their final moments, but I can assure you that you left this world with the same grace and dignity with which you lived.
Gratitude
As I was kidnapped / As I was disappeared / As I was tortured / As I was murdered / My only consolation / Was / Your Words
Husband Swept Away at Sea
And the strong waves of the sea swept him away in minutes with the debris of the boat, his cries ringing in your ears. Somehow you made it to shore.
Do They See You?
You blame something bigger. It’s not you at all. Possibly, it’s the country: the way it feels like it’s designed to work against you and the way your soles crack from running around. You keep trying, putting in the effort. Trying, and yielding to a lack of results. It’s as if the system is broken. As if no matter how hard you try, the soil just won’t give back your results.
the Decolonial Passage 