Sarah Gladstone

As Americans we have fallen prey to a particular "look" —namely white and thin—and suffer from an inability to shatter it. The result? A backhanded compliment of the hybrid variety: “You’re pretty . . . for a black girl.”

I know that in a lot of ways I am a cultural and ethnic enigma. But discussing my identity all the time can get old. Like, real old, real fast.

The Millennial Generation has been called every variation of lazy ingrate that the Baby Boomers and Generation X-ers could think of. And with YOLO as a point of reference, who could blame them?

The acknowledgment of Lupita’s elegance begins a process to alleviate any future need to add "for a . . . " to the end of “You’re beautiful.”

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Last we checked, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo was not Native American.

Being an "Angry Black Woman" is a catch-22: the more you fight the label, the more people want to stamp you with an ABW crimson mark

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” -Maya Angelou

A proposed California bill is bringing new attention to the fate of performance orcas at SeaWorld

The internet is weird and gross and hilarious and helpful.