Habari Gani – what’s the news – about Kwanzaa? Truthfully, the week-long holiday doesn’t get as much shine in the public eye as its December counterparts. The first Kwanzaa holiday film was produced in 2009, there are only two USPS stamps in existence and the White House didn’t even celebrate it last year! If you have your doubts about the harvest celebration, read on to see what’s true…and what’s false:

1. It’s been around for a while

Not so much. Kwanzaa was created in 1966, right before the height of the Black Power movement and during the heart of Pan-Africanism.

2. It originated in Africa

Though the celebration has African roots, Kwanzaa was created in the United States – California to be exact. Kwanzaa creator Maulana Karenga was an Africana Studies professor at California State University, Long Beach at the time. Read More »

In my last blog, I wrote about the splendors of holiday hookups. (If you haven’t read it yet, get on it!) Now that most of us have exhausted the extent of our winter break hook-ups, I thought I’d take a second look at this most treasured of holiday traditions. As it turns out, there are a few things that actually can go wrong…

The Parent Thing: Even though we’ve moved out, most of us hate the thought of our parents knowing anything about our sex lives. This proves to be a huge problem when you’re actually hooking up under their roof. Nothing makes you feel like you’re back in high school more than tip-toeing through your house with a guy in tow. If you stay at his house, on the other hand, you run the risk of being discovered by his Mom and becoming “that slut” that’s sleeping with her baby.

The Small Town Thing: No matter how big of a city you live in, you can’t deny that we live in a very, very small world. And nothing proves that more true than a hometown hookup rumor spreading like a wildfire. I swear, once one person finds out and spills the beans, it’s all over. You can bet by the end of the week anybody and everybody, from his Mom to your 8th grade woodshop teacher, will know of your little rendezvous(s). Or, if you’re like me and accidentally leave a hickey on his neck, you don’t even need anybody to say anything for the entire world to know. My bad. Read More »