It was late one evening, and my wife and I had had a pretty rough day. She had been in physical pain all day, and we hadn’t much money left to last until payday. We were hungry, broke, exhausted and ready for a break. As we were driving, our tire blew, and it was the final straw. Our spare was already flat. We felt hopeless and didn’t know what to do. Perhaps that’s the definition of a crisis.
“I do not know a Blackness that isn’t queer. I never have, never will, and never could separate the two even if I tried.”