Posts from Tasteful Rude

With wit, and a dash of horror, a Black caregiver in the Bay Area suburbs reflects on the surreality of elder care during a pandemic.

Weed culture is fascinated with feminine eroticism. After California legalized recreational marijuana use in 2016, sexy weed ladies sprang up everywhere.

You’ll understand why it confused me when, upon accepting his invitation to meet up with him the following night, he raped me.

This week, Tasteful Rude publishes a pair of reflections that explore the aftermath of gender-based violence. Tasteful Rude is doing so to counter the continued erasure of survivor-centered narratives, especially those concerning life after harm. We also publish these essays in response to the continued glorification of “cancelled celebrities,” in particular men reported for persistent engagement in gender-based violence and harm.

Grading Cal State University LA: administrators get an A for lip service and exploitation, and an F for ethical treatment of faculty and students

Organizers of Giovanni's Room unite to honor literary ancestors

Having criminalized queerness, the Nigerian state ruthlessly promotes homophobia. In response, LGBTQIA+ Nigerians continue to mobilize, committing to the struggle for queer rights.

In the last chapter of Toni Morrison’s Spiritual Vision: Faith, Folktales and Feminism in Her Life and Literature (Fortress Press, 2021), Nadra Nittle writes that “[by] placing…Black women storytellers, seers, healers, and root workers in pivotal roles in her ‘village literature,’ Morrison demonstrated that the African-based cultural practices [that Black women] engaged in had real power too.”

For Nigerians seeking therapy, two options exist: IRL and URL. Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu describes her experiences with both.

I thought about “domestic violence” going “on vacation” as I learned about the Petito case. I remembered trips I took with a patriarch whom I’ll refer to as F. The month before I escaped from F, we went on a road trip.

“They just don’t know…I talked to God about, you know, about what happened,” she sobbed. “It wasn’t an easy choice. People just, they hate you for it, like, the ones that protest outside Hilltop, they don’t know what it’s like, or why. I did what I had to do, dude,” she cried. “Only you know why.”

I hesitate to read works that portray Black queer trauma. Many of our collective narratives focus on pain and spiritual isolation, with very little room for much else. But there is a difference between a book that reduces us to our pain and a book that opens up the world by exploring the repercussions of being made to feel unclean, undesired, unkept, unhoused, unloved.

I’m getting ready for the function at the junction And baby you’d better come on right now Because everybody’s gonna be there We got people comin’ from everywhere – “Function At The Junction,” Shorty Long, 1966 There’s a long, long legacy of Black folks gathering around food and funk, bbq sauce and song.