by Jessica S. Samuel

I was only a high school student when I first realized the impact of the white gaze. A high-achieving pupil I, along with similarly-talented peers, quickly became the idols of white attention. We were anomalies in the eyes of these people who could only see us as far as they could see the next island. Their understanding of our capacity for success was as narrow as the one-third of the island unoccupied by the U.S. National Park. “Small-time” island kids, we quickly became the objects of white attention. In fact, were it not for these condominium-owning, island-trotting, land-thieving white benefactors it would have been largely impossible for me to attend the only (private) high school on island. The quality education afforded to me was a dream come true thanks to my elusive and yet seemingly-omniscient donors. Like clockwork, I was responsible for constantly demonstrating my sincerest gratitude for their generosity by way of “Thank You” cards. The time would come, at least once a semester, when all the good little brown and poor kids, had to make it our business to offer praise and appreciation to the good ol’ white folks. After all, it was important that they see a return on their financial investments.

by Jenn M. Jackson

White women simply aren’t checking for Black women, children or the Black Family, a sad but true historical fact we have to face as Black people in the United States today.

by Kimberly Foster

There are few places where Black children, Black girls in particular, are safe—not on unfamiliar streets, not in frequented neighborhoods, not in chaotic classrooms, and often not even in the place they call home. Those of us who care for these children recognize this and try to prepare them for the unwarranted hostility they will face. We give them “the talk” and careful instructions on “appropriate” behavior knowing these are not adequate remedies and likely won’t guarantee survival.

by Khadijah Costley White on Quartz

This past weekend, millions of people watched a terrible scene unfold—we held our breath as a white police officer grabbed a black girl in a bathing suit by her hair and sat down on her. We heard her sobbing, we watched the officer pull out his gun and point it at two boys as they responded to her cries.

by Dyaundra Stroman

The lawyer for McKinney, Texas officer, Eric Casebolt held a press conference on Wednesday to explain her client's actions and to issue an apology "to all who were offended." Jane Bishkin, Casebolt's attorney, stated her client responded to two suicide calls prior to arriving at the Craig Ranch pool-party disturbance. The officer was recorded slamming 15-year-old Dejerria Becton to the ground before drawing his weapon on the party-going teenagers. Bishkin attributed her client's behavior to the "emotional stress" he was under having just photographed a scene in which a man shot himself in front of his family. She went on to dismiss the accusation that race played a factor in the way Casebolt conducted himself during the Craig Ranch ordeal. She claims he was only attempting to investigate a "violent assault." She further maintained, "he was not targeting minorities."

Dallas-Fort Worth's local Fox News affiliate is reporting that Eric Casebolt, the McKinney police officer—who was captured on video cussing at Black teenagers, pushing 15-year-old Dajerria Becton's face into the ground while kneeling on her back, and pulling a gun on a group of teens who attempted to come to her aid—has resigned from the McKinney Police Department.