If you were in my family, you’d know that’s what I say when something’s going on or going wrong or needs to have someone’s attention drawn to it. Like the time my sister Fox and I were in a fabric store and a whole rack of giant bolts of cloth began to fall on me. “Hey,” I said — not shouted, just said it, maybe a little louder than usual — “Hey.” And my sister, at the front of the store, knew something must be happening, so she got the owner and came to my rescue.

So, hey. Nothing’s going on or wrong here, but I did want to draw your attention. Stubbornly, I’m refusing to change my ‘About’ page, but I want more ‘About’-style information … which brings us here.

How to describe myself? I’m a tall, fat, opinionated Black woman. I’m a writer who lives in Brooklyn, has a cat and sometimes posts rants.  Most of the people named on this site are given fake names or nicknames to respect their privacy.  Which is to say that, my sister’s name isn’t really Fox and my brother’s name isn’t really Tony … but my name is really Stacie.

Here I am, a grand dame of 59:


And here’s a sampling of posts to give you an idea of who I am and how I think:

Only wild animals act like that. — taking the memoir to a dark place …
Wild Animals, redux — in which I revisit that happy memory with questions for the past
Back on the Street — a personal survey of street harassment
Saartjie, Semenya and Me — the outrage of black female-ness
Street walking — the outrage of prostitution
Attention white folks … — a little rant about the “outing” of Michelle Obama and her “white ancestor”
Party in My Pants — a little Alejna-inspired silliness
Big As Life — part of my month-long tribute to Lucille Clifton
Telling the Story — the one about me and James Baldwin …
The River in Reverse — the one about me and Patricia Smith’s Blood Dazzler
The Face of Home — the one about me, Paris, Parks and Hughes
Early Learning — everything I needed to know about racism, I learned in kindergarten …
Beans and Rice: Power and Control — how self-reflection has the annoying ability to make me look at myself
(There’s also a prequel post, Beans and Rice Meditation, introducing my mandala-making experience … and the follow-up post, the “coda” if you will: Catching a Tiger by the Tail — putting my angst to music)
In the Wake — I am not Trayvon Martin
Open letter to folks who knew me when — I am no longer the Good Negress you thought you knew

I have begun writing and drawing a comic that will probably take me the rest of my life to finish. The early work for that project is collected under a separate tab. The comic is very different now, essays rather than short memoir pieces. With luck, I will one day be able to link to a finished piece!

I’m also focusing more deliberately on my essay-writing. In 2017, I participated in Vanessa Mártir’s #52essays2017 challenge. The call was to write an essay a week for the year. I saw it as an invitation to push further into my writing and recommit to getting the work done. Weekly essay-generation is no joke! I fell months and months behind, but then I very nearly caught up, writing 44 essays by year’s end. I’ve kept the challenge going. We’ll see how I do. I’ve collected the essays on their own page for easy finding. My focus on the personal essay and reading Roxane Gay’s Hunger also inspired an ongoing series about my body. I’ve collected those on their own page, too. I think they are going to become a collection. We’ll see.

I can have painfully-long lapses in writing, finding it impossible to post even an emoji for months at a time.  I’m trying to get better at getting out of my way so that can stop being the case. I’m glad you came to check out this page. I hope you’ll read around here a little, comment a little, visit once in a while …