Get to know these TSW voices.
In celebration of Black History Month, TSW is sharing 10 pieces written by Black writers that we published across our past 16 issues. In this roundup of stunning work, you’ll encounter poetry that gives new shape to the erased histories of Black Americans; essays that take the reader on literal and figurative journeys through the dense fabric of race and racism in America; and fiction that shows the truth of lived realities for Black folks.
We hope you are as floored by this work as we were when we first read and published it. We return to these writers and their work often, as they put words, time and again, to that which colonial language wishes to forget. As we know, Black history cannot be contained within a month, because Black history is American history. Our hope in sharing these pieces is that they will act as springboards for you to get to know some incredibly urgent, necessary talents within our TSW community.
Below, you’ll find work by the incomparable Ariana Benson, Elizabeth Upshur, Michael Frazier, Kofi Daniel Opam, Naomi Day, Tiffany Marie Tucker, Yasmin Boakye, Sharanna Brown, Avi-Yona Israel, and Matthew Thompson. Read and return to these voices often.
- All Posts
- 1: Perception Gaps
- 10: Willful Innocence
- 11: Actionable Storytelling
- 12: Before After
- 13: Rebellious Joy
- 14: Economies of Harm
- 15: Root Systems
- 16: Proximities
- 17: The Cost of Waiting
- 2: Labels
- 3: Who Gets to Belong?
- 4: You Are Politics
- 5: Artificial Realities
- 6: Dangerous Bodies
- 7: In Opposition
- 8: Power And
- 9: What We Lose
- Anthologies
- Art
- Audio
- Bulletin
- Drama
- Film
- Interview
- Poetry
- Prose
- Uncategorized
- Back
- Fiction
- Nonfiction
![HTML Color Swatches in Black [Girl]](https://www.theseventhwave.org/wp-content/plugins/royal-elementor-addons/assets/img/icon-256x256.png?x34527){kind=icon}
"taken-Black" …girl, too umber for proper / amber alert. Black / girl, skipped right past “missing” into / “Lost: B L A C K girl”. nobody / even noticed
— or the ketchup packet one / over in the adjacent deli, the dearth of good strawberries / in produce.
My students & co-workers worry / if I return to America, I’ll catch COVID / or a bullet in my back.
Today I’m too angry to know what to do with myself, so I take a very hot shower and listen to loud music
A package sat on the seat next to her, a pleasant block-lettered label naming Landry Kent as the intended recipient.
For three years, I boarded a bus in West Pullman, then transferred to the Red Line train to attend Chicago’s Roosevelt University.
When we were girls, we weren’t supposed to look adults in the eyes, and when we did, we could barely stand the intensity, felt like we were too close to a human kind of flame.
When I got the phone call the third time Daveonte was shot, I knew it was the last. Still, I held my breath.
how is it / that you force-fuck / and call us whores / you tell us we only care / about your size, your wallet / when we’ve bought you flowers / yet there’s only dirt in your palms
I heard in a Black boy town / there was a pool filled / with red / and the white people
Throughout the year, you’ll continue to find pieces like this that celebrate our community of voices. If you’re looking for more resources or writing from Black writers, check out CLMP’s roundup, “A Reading List for Black History Month 2024.” They included a few of our above pieces in their collective list.
