Navigating a Marginalized and Privileged Identity with Danielle Prescod
I can't recall when I first met Danielle Prescod, but I knew her as Taylor Tomassi's very stylish counterpart long before we crossed paths. And it certainly wasn't lost on me that as a young Black girl working in fashion, she was at Paris Fashion Week and Met Gala parties, and she generally had a lot of visibility early into her career. Needless to say, I admired her and was equally envious of her status in the industry. But seeing her succeed showed me that it was also possible for me.
Danielle and I are both from Westchester, NY, but aside from that, we've had quite different upbringings and career trajectories. We finally crossed paths at Hearst, where she and I worked as fashion editors for Elle.com and Bazaar.com, respectively, and became friends. Again, I admired watching her work and seeing just how far she'd go for a story, like dying her eyebrows different colors or training with Victoria's Secret Angels before the big Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. She was brilliant, with no lack of creativity or viral-worthy stories.
I never really thought I would create a company with someone, beyond a joke that Danielle and I had while we were at Hearst about becoming a DJ-duo (that's where the name Two Black Girls originated)—but of course, I would create one with someone who also shares a Capricorn moon. DJ dreams aside, Two Black Girls (aka 2BG Consulting) became our DEI company, which came together so seamlessly, basically overnight, with the sudden attention from viral videos we posted on Instagram about racism in the industry (see Danielle's here). By “Blackout Tuesday,” we had our first two retainer clients, and within a week, we started teaching our first anti-racism workshop to influencers and then shifted to teaching brands.
Since then, Danielle has become a best-selling author. In October 2022, her memoir, Token Black Girl, was released to the world. It is a very honest look at how growing up in predominantly white spaces and working in a predominantly white industry like fashion shaped her identity and her often negative view of herself and her blackness. I, too, have navigated predominantly white spaces most of my life and felt seen by the words in her book. I know many others feel the same. And if you are not Black, I encourage you to pick up her book for a glimpse into what it is like to be part of a world dictated by white supremacy when you are not white.
Below we talk about the differences in our Westchester upbringing, economic privilege, self love, and our feelings on the state of the fashion industry right now. Plus, there's so much more if you listen to the recordings (sorry I'm not tech savvy enough to know how to clip two audios together).
There's so much for us to discuss, but my favorite starter question: what were you like as a kid, and did you always imagine that you would be doing what you're doing today?
I was extremely willful, very headstrong. I had a lot of really strong ideas and opinions, and I was really lucky that people in my life always encouraged that. I was also kind of a know-it-all. I read a lot, and I was not shy to let people know that I knew a lot of things. I love to be right. Being right is one of my favorite feelings, and that has always been true. You can imagine the irritating personality traits that come along with that. I think I always imagined that I would be doing a version of what I do now. I was always really creative, and I loved writing. It came very easily to me.
I should also mention that Danielle and I are both Capricorn moons, and I feel like I see it so much in you and how we work together and approach our work because Cap moons are really about their business. And as I've learned more about astrology and what Capricorn moons really represent— I'm curious, did you always have that sense that you are meant to achieve big things in your life? Because that's how I always felt.
Oh, for sure. But I was one of those kids that people were always like, "You're so special." I was extremely advanced as a child because my mom was a teacher, and then she didn't work when she wanted to have kids, so then she spent all her time with us. By the time we got delivered to school, we could already read and write. They didn't skip grades anymore, but they would put us in other classes for things because we just were too good. And so, I always was like, I'm just special, and I always thought that.
Obviously, I read your book last year and it's incredible, and there's just not enough good things to say about it. We both grew up in Westchester, and we're both Black women, but we have pretty different upbringings. Even just you reminding me that your mom was at home, I'm like, wow, what was that like? Because I am first generation American, my parents are Jamaican immigrants, neither of my parents finished high school. I saw my parents working multiple jobs, side jobs, etc., to build the financial stability that we have. What was it like to have a mom that was at home and that you got to spend time with?
I really thought that everyone lived like that, though. I wasn't really conscious of that being rare. I think that sometimes when you grow up in a bubble, you do think that your world is exactly how everyone else's life is, and there's not really a way for you to learn that, but I think that there's a real misunderstanding, especially for Black children, there's not the same kind of sensitivity applied to that. For example, a lot of our peers and friends from school will be able to say things like, "Well, I just didn't know." That's totally acceptable because they're white. Everyone's like, "Oh yeah, you didn't." But I'm like, I can't say that. I'll get crucified if I say that. I'm like, "Do you think that being Black just imbues you with some sort of inherent knowledge?" If no one tells you and no one explicitly gives you a guidebook or a rule book or anything, you are going to make your own inferences and conclusions about things, and that's not always a great thing.
I think that I was probably really bratty about it. I grew up in the girl power age. On the Rugrats, Angelica Pickles' mom had a cell phone and she was an executive, and the girls were all about girl power. I resented my mom in a way because I was like, "Ugh, you're just a mom. You just stay home." She's the most reliable person in my life, but to some degree, I was not impressed.
I said to myself, "I am going to be important. I'm going to have an office and I'm going to have people listen to me because I don't want to be just a mom." I feel like it was the beginning of that stage where it was like, can women have it all? Do you choose career or family, blah, blah. I was like, "Of course, you can have everything." Actually, I don't necessarily believe that now, but at the time, I definitely was like, "Of course, they can have it all, and I will." I was not that nice to my mom, even though she was there for me a lot.
That's interesting to hear your perspective, whereas, on my side, I'm begging for quality time with my mom because that just felt so rare. That's been a big thing for me in my own therapy journey, finding that acceptance. Listen, my parents had to do what they had to do to give me the life that I have. Of course, for that, I am so thankful. But also, two things can be true at once. We have the loving families that we have, but they still created some kind of chasm in the relationship that has affected us.
It's one of those things, the grass is always greener on the other side. I think a lot of people would be helped by coming to the conclusion that parents are just people and they're not actively trying to harm you. They're just trying to do the best they can. Also, I think as a lot of our friends become parents, that's what I see, you just do it. You just do the best you can in the moment. You have no choice. I think giving your parents some grace as you get older is also important.
What were conversations about race in your family? I know you touched upon this in the book and that you didn't really have many.
I think I was very shut down to talk about race at all. It just made me so uncomfortable. My sister reminds me of when, I must have been 13 or something, and I wanted to go to the movies with my friends. My parents were trying to have a talk with me about what it would be like to go out without them. They were like, "Is there anything different about your friends and you?" I was like, "No, there's nothing." They were like, "Can you think of any way you guys look that might be different?" I was like, "Nope, I don't. I think we all look the same." I was just like, I don't even want to say it out loud. Of course, I knew. And so then, my sister, who's two years younger, is listening, and she screamed, "It's because you're Black!".
They were like, "What does that mean? That means that you could potentially get into trouble that they might not get into." I just really didn't want to believe it. I was like, "No, it's not true." I think also something that was very interesting about growing up in the '90s and the early aughts is the way that everyone was very dedicated to this post-racial narrative. In our textbooks or on television, there would always be every one of every different kind of race. The kind of messaging, it was like, everyone's equal, we're all the same. You need to respect people. We have come so far from civil rights, et cetera.
Yeah, I know. I remember my dad always telling me, "There are going to be people who don't like you because of the color of your skin." That was really what was driven home to me. Is there a moment that you can remember where you really realized that all the kids that you were going to school with were rich-rich?
Yeah. It's so funny, too, because, as you probably see in Amazon reviews, a lot of people are like, "She shouldn't be complaining about anything. She grew up with money, blah, blah." I'm like, "Okay, I don't know how to break this down to you. We actually grew up very middle class. Yes, we had vacations. Yes, we had multiple cars. Yes, I had lessons and everything, but I still understood the value of a dollar. Nothing was just given to me." Just comparatively, my friends were so wealthy that they looked at me as their fresh air fund friend. They're like, "Oh my God, Danielle doesn't have a horse of her own. It's so sad. I guess you can ride one of mine."
Ultimately, I feel like I grew up with a complex thinking that we were actually poor and not really understanding. Literally, again, I thought everyone went to college. I thought everyone's educational journey ended at a four-year university where people said, "Wow, can't believe you went there." I literally thought that was for everybody. To realize that that too was an exclusive experience, I was like, oh, okay, now I understand, but it probably wasn't until college that I really started to put these things together because it was the first time I had met a lot of people outside of my direct area.
Totally. For me, when I got to middle school is when I started to see, oh, people have money. Girls had Prada backpacks and Mac makeup and stuff like that.
Something we talk about a lot in the workshop we teach is that, even though we've grown up in these predominantly white spaces and had all these opportunities and whatnot, none of that has ever stopped us from experiencing racism. But I think there was a part of me in my adolescence that thought that certain things would stop me from experiencing racism, like the fact that I talk the way that I talk, or I dress the way that I dress, or that I went to a four-year college. I did think that those things were going to somehow mitigate racism.
Yeah, totally. Also, because I think that what's really important about growing up as the "Token Black Girl" is I really did have a lot of close relationships with white people where I really did believe they loved me. I really did trust them. It was very symbiotic. Of course, not every single relationship was like that, but I truly saw mutual love and respect exemplified for me. And so, I knew it was possible. I really went into almost every interaction thinking it would potentially turn out positive.
What shocked me was then meeting people as I was an adult and dealing with people in the fashion industry who didn't really have a background for having dealt with Black people who would then exhibit racist behaviors. I'm like, again, what do you think? It would be very weird when people would ask me about rap lyrics or ask me who this person was or what this thing was. I was like, "Why would you think I would know that?" You interact with me. You understand what I'm liking, what you're liking. I don't know any more than you do. That was very frustrating because I do think for sure people, but at the end of the day, all they could see was that I was Black. Nothing else. If you don't have an experience where you are getting a close relationship and getting to know people besides the things on the surface, you're probably going to make wrong assumptions.
When I was younger, I had this idea that because I may not have struggled in the way that some other Black people have in this country, that I didn't really know what it meant to be Black. I don't know how else to explain it, but I remember feeling that way. I think it's funny to really look back and examine all the ways that your mind has been warped by white supremacy because of the way that Black people are portrayed in this country. If your experience is different than what you're seeing on the news, you're like, "Oh, well, I can't relate to those people. That's not me."
Well, also I think it's this internalization of financial privilege being the only thing that matters. When I talk on Instagram about privilege, people will leave comments like, "You shouldn't talk about privilege. Your kitchen is bigger than my whole apartment. You shouldn't talk about this. You have a purse that costs $10,000." I'm like, I don't understand. You guys need to understand that you can have a privileged identity and a marginalized identity at the same time. Duality exists.
Just because I am privileged in one area doesn't mean I'm marginalized in another area because I promise you, there is a very pivotal episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Carlton also thought this too, and he got pulled over by the cops, and guess what? It didn't matter that his dad was a judge. It didn't matter he was driving Mercedes. It didn't matter that he went to Bel Air Academy. It didn't matter he was going to go to Princeton. They threw his ass in jail. The same thing would happen to me if I dare to step one toe out of line. I know that. I know that the money is not going to save my life.
We've seen those examples play out so many times. There's lots of Black people in this country who have amassed wealth and fame, and none of that stops them from experiencing racism.
Never.
When did you first get the idea to write Token Black Girl?
I got the idea in January 2020. I went to Ireland, and I was at a job that I hated so much, and I was like, "I have to get out of this work situation." I had started writing a novel, and it was going very poorly. And so, I was like, “Okay, I'm just going to write how I normally write.” One thing I had been exploring in therapy was the discussion of self-love. My therapist was very big on you need to love yourself. I was just like, I love myself. Obviously, that's so corny. Also, because I work in fashion and beauty and self-love is something that is really commodified and so is self-care.
I'm thinking, of course, I love myself. I go on vacation. I go shopping. I say, "You deserve it!" No, that's not what self-love is. A lot of my self-love and a lot of the value that I placed on myself was super conditional. I am very controlling over my own appearance. It's like I love myself only if I'm wearing the clothes I want, my hair looks how I want, my teeth are white, and my nails are done, all of these factors. I'm like, then I love myself. But definitely not when I just first wake up in the morning, no, no, no. When I'm ready to get out into the world, then I can love myself.
And so, I was like, “Wow, I wonder where all of that comes from? I wonder where me thinking that I'm not really worthy or that I can't love myself, where did that start?” And so, I started really tracing all these things back and I was like, oh, I ended at white supremacy. Then, I was like, I wonder if I could figure out how white supremacy affects women in particular, because there's a lot of books about police brutality and how the perception of Black men ends up negatively impacting the stereotypes around Blackness for men though.
Again, because a lot of people think fashion and beauty is very frivolous, no one was taking a lens to what that does and what that does to the self-esteem of women. I figured, who better to do that than me because I am inside it right now. I know exactly how it happens. I really naively thought that, oh, probably at these magazines, they don't feature Black people because they don't know. But if I go there, I'll just show them and then it will be fixed. I can do that. Little did I know that was not going to happen. And so, I was like, I have to start telling people the truth.
Were you worried about the response Black people might have to this book?
Yes. I was very worried about it. Also, too, because I think I internalized some of the messaging that you mentioned before, that I don't have a rags-to-riches story. I didn't think I suffered enough for people to even care. I'm used to books like Push by Sapphire, which became the movie Precious. I was like, wow, you got to suffer at every turn in order to be considered worthy of a story. I'm a regular girl. I grew up regular, but that does a disservice because now I see how many people were like, oh my gosh, I've always had these feelings, but I never knew how to say them, or it's connecting with so many people. This is a hugely underserved and largely ignored market.
Why aren't we talking to people about this and for this? A lot of the time, I think the solution that people have is that, yes, we should get our children into these schools and funnel them into the job market that way. Of course, technically, yes, these institutions are "welcoming" to everybody, but are they really? Especially elitist institutions, there's a huge veil of secrecy around them. I can't even tell you how many girls I talked to and boys who were either at boarding school or some sort of private school that were disciplined far and beyond what even makes sense for whatever it is they did.
I can't even believe it. But again, because there's such a veil of secrecy around it, and it makes you feel ashamed, you never say anything. I never even talked about it for so long. Even into my 20s, I was like, oh my god, I can't let anyone know I was ever suspended from school. Like, why? My sister ended up being fired from her job last year, and it was truly something heinously racially-motivated and awful. I was like, yeah, there's no reason you should be ashamed of this. You should definitely tell people because they are in the wrong, and the only people who benefit from your silence are them.
Ain't that the fucking truth. So what gives you the courage to speak up about racism in the industry?
I think it goes back to loving being right, I'm right, and I know it, and I love being right. I'm like, everyone should know that I'm right. Also, I never say anything that I can't back up with facts and examples.
I know, that's how I feel too. It's not like I'm saying anything that people can't literally see. Whether they want to see it, that's a different story, but it's there. If you want to get mad at me for speaking the truth, well then, so be it. Because I remember a couple months ago, I had drinks with a Black educator, and I was just surprised to hear her thank me for speaking up and whatnot because she has friends who are editors or in corporate spaces, and said they only post about stuff on close friends.
I'm like, "Listen, I get it. They might be in a more precarious situation than I'm in." Yes, I'm still in a precarious situation because I work for myself, and a lot of my money depends on other brands wanting to work with me, but I don't personally feel like it has really been an issue. Maybe more so with luxury brands but I don't think a lot of them particularly value outspoken people.
You have to know what it is you care about, and really, I care about repairing a lot of the harm that I feel like I did to women, that I did to Black women when I was an editor. I want to take accountability for that and try to fix it where I can. I platformed the Kardashians over and over and over again. When I was at BET, I wrote about this in the book that one of our top-performing flipbooks was just women in their natural hair. I'm like, why am I feeding this obsession. And so, it's like blurry paparazzi photos of Michelle Obama on vacation. I hate that I did it because it ended up doing really good, but I'm like, "What is this saying? Why am I okay with continuing this narrative? It's disturbing."
Sometimes I have to actively not think about the state of things right now in the fashion, beauty, and social media world because it makes me just absolutely infuriated. I try not to live in that mindset, but I think it feels really, really challenging sometimes when you look at the fact that, summer of 2020, everyone was doing their little, we support Black people song and dance, and now you're like, "What the fuck was that all for?"
I know. That's why I feel like I'm beating a dead horse whenever I'm like, “this is white supremacy,” “this is also white supremacy,” but it's because people will just blindly platform someone or blindly be like, yep, we're going to go with this girl, we're going to... but don't you see how that's wrong? There's really not enough checks and balances and it really is exhausting to constantly be the person that's like, "Actually," but they are not going to see it on their own. They are given the opportunity to and they just don't ever do differently.
Where do you think the fashion and beauty industry is going right now in terms of diversity and inclusion around race, body size, all of that?
I think we're just in another sleepy phase. I really think that it's even worse than pre-2020 at this point. Because people realize getting "canceled" is not anything. It's not real. We have been saying that for years. Cancel culture does not exist. Some very passionate people in your comments do not make a difference in your sales. People are realizing that, so they're like, "We can continue to just do what we want, and we will." And so, I think that we're just going to see more of that. There were so many think pieces about Daphne's character in White Lotus and how we should all just be living like that, which is just a very out-of-touch white woman who doesn't care about anyone or anything, but having a good time, and that's what people are really going to try to lean into.
I don't think people watch White Lotus properly. Every character is despicable. We are supposed to hate all of them. It is satire, but it's reflective of our modern condition, but it's not an edict. You shouldn't look at it and be like, yes, this is a way to live. It's very bizarre. I think that fashion is just going to keep doing what fashion does and without little to no consequences.
I feel, in a way, people are more resistant now to feedback around their lack of diversity. I've sent some emails in the last two months about our consulting stuff, and two brands have just straight-up ignored me. One was a former client of ours, and I was offering our second-level workshop, but then another one was a brand that posted something out of pocket on Instagram, and they responded once asking to see the post because they had changed the caption. I sent them the screenshot, and then no response.
Yeah, because their business can keep going. Even if they posted something, they can take it down, and they can just move on. That's what they're just going to keep doing. It's really sad. That's why our job, I think, is to educate consumers so that the power is in the people's hands. Then it's like, okay, we're actually not going to invest our money into brands like this. Then, they'll start to pay attention, but as long as people are also apathetic, then fashion will be apathetic.
It's hard to know all the things that go on at a company, of course, we don't always know. But when you see a brand that is blatantly leaving people of color out of their marketing efforts, events, front rows or whatever, we have to say something. I think that's another thing that I find really frustrating is that there aren't enough people who are in positions of power, and I'm talking about influencers and whatnot… I'm like, why are people scared of the brands? They're just not willing to say anything.
You don't have to be aggressive about it. There is a way to go about it and just be like, "Hey, I saw this, and I was really disappointed, and I would love to see you guys hire more diverse models or whatever." Brands will listen to them, but they're too scared because they're afraid to fuck up a check, but it's like we turn down money all the time. That's what pisses me off is I put my integrity first 99% of the time. There's a lot of times I have to fucking walk away from money because shit's not right, and I'm not willing to put my name on the line. Sometimes, yeah, I wish I could not give a fuck. I wish that I could just work with whoever and take their money, but I can't do that because I wouldn't be able to live with myself.
Yeah, exactly.
There's a part of you that's like fuck, this is never going to change. I don't want to think like that. I know it is changing a tiny, tiny bit, but after what we've gone through in the last two years, well, almost three years ago now. You would think that things have changed a more, but people don't care. If you're still having an event like the Goop holiday party, where all your shared content features only gaggles of white women. That just feels like a choice.
Right. Where are we? It is a choice.
Why doesn't everyone just take a minute, scroll back through their Instagrams, look at what they posted around June 2020 and see if they're still living up to that and how they feel about that.
Anyway, are there any stories that didn't make it into your book that you wanted to be in there and that you would want to share?
Yeah, there are plenty of things that didn't make it into the book. I had a weird flashback the other day, and I was just like, "Whoa. What a sunken time that was for you." Sometimes these things hit you when you're so removed from an environment of oppressive whiteness. When you're like, "Oh, I can just be myself." And I'm like, "Wow, I was pretending to be interested in this stuff, and I really wasn't." But I didn't know how to say it.
In the book, I talk about when I was eight years old in third grade, Home Improvement was on TV and everybody was like, "JTT is so cute." And so I just started parroting that I didn't care about him. And then eventually, because I was so influenced by everyone around me having crushes, that became the archetype of what I thought was handsome and the kind of men that I looked at as crushes. It was so warped, and I'm like, "I didn't even realize how quickly you fake something and then it becomes real." And I'm like, "Whoa, now I'm dating these guys." And I'm like, "What the hell? What was I thinking?" And I think that that's kind of weird. So I've had to reframe what I think. Really defining okay what it is that you think versus what thoughts have been put onto you.
You said earlier you didn't necessarily believe that women could have it all anymore, I would love for you to elaborate.
Well, I just don't feel like you can be the kind of mom that you would want to and have the kind of career that you want. And I don't think that men ever have to choose. I think that if you even look at the way athletes are interviewed by the press, there's several professional tennis players who are fathers, and they are never asked how they're going to balance their training with being a father. Some of people don't even ask about their fatherhood journey—it's not relevant.
For women, it's like, "Uh oh there's a baby. I guess she's out of everything now." It's like you really have to do all the stuff you want to do and then you have a baby, because it's almost like you give your life over to that baby. And if you don't, I watch a lot of my friends have a ton of mom guilt about going on business trips and leaving their baby, or having to have a nanny and doing all of these things that make their job easier. And I feel like every person has had a professional interaction where someone rolls their eyes because someone's on maternity leave, or someone has to breastfeed or nurse. People are just annoyed. Babies don't mix with your career.
To wrap this up, what does self-love look like for you now?
I think moving to New Orleans has also shown me a lot about what self-love looks like because the culture is really invested in distractions. So partying as a distraction, parades as a distraction, going out all the time. And I spend so much time at home, it makes me borderline unpopular. But I love being alone with myself. I don't need anything external. I literally just don't need it, and that makes me so happy. When I lived in New York, I kept myself busy from the time I opened my eyes to the time they were closed at night. I had every single hour scheduled. And I'm still that way simply because I'm Type A. But I definitely take more breaks. Today, for example, I rode horses in the morning, so I was riding until 11:00, then I took a luxurious shower, then I didn't start meetings until 1:00 PM. And that was a gift I gave to myself as opposed to waking up, running to my computer, seeing what someone said on Slack, then brushing my teeth while I'm scrolling on my phone for news.
I don't want to put myself in a state of not being able to hear myself, hear my own thoughts, relax, and be able to calm myself down if I get anxious. And so that is what self-love looks like to me. And also, I've been working on stripping down artifices. I'm breaking up with my addiction to eyelash extensions—because I realized I was getting dysmorphia. I couldn't look at myself. I was going every two weeks. And I was like, "Why? You don't need to. You need to be able to look at your face as it naturally is, and that be okay." Same with how I think about getting dressed. I'm always like, "Okay, what is the most flattering? What's going to make my legs look the longest? What's going to make my waist look the smallest? What's going to do?" And I'm like, "What actually is comfortable to you? What do you want to wear? And can you see yourself as valuable even if you don't look thin in whatever it is that you're wearing? Is that still worthwhile fashion to you?"
And so, really spending time doing all of those things has made me just appreciate myself so much more. And also, I'm like, "I am not offering how I look all the time to other people." I think it's really hard. Maybe you feel this too, but being on social media, it's people will be like, "Oh, your hair's not done." Or, "I don't like that you did that." They have so many opinions on that. And it's like, "But actually, what I'm offering today is this funny story or some social commentary on something that's going on in the world. It's not how I look." I'm going to be shoved in that box all the time. And I have to love myself through that. I have to be like, "People are going to comment on that. And you just have to know, okay, I don't care." And so that is also a big self-love practice.
I love that. And absolutely, I'm not in the business of trying to show everyone that I'm perfect 24/7. We're just not here to look perfect 24/7. It's how I feel about getting my photo taken. Not every photo of me is going to be the most perfect photo I've ever seen of myself, and that's okay. Some days I'm going to look better than others. And it helps you appreciate the days when you're like, "Damn, I look good."
Yeah, but that's what self-love is. And it's actually a really hard place to get to. And that's why a lot of people don't do it, because you have to take all of that stuff away and be like, "Do I still love myself without any of it?"
And the answer from a lot of people is no. Right? Because that's why they keep doing it. And, for me, I wanted the answer to be like, yes. And so now I feel like I'm in the healthiest mental space I've ever been in, and I never thought I would get there. I never thought that I would be not weighing myself every single day, not obsessed with not fitting into something or fitting into something. I never thought I would get there. And I'm like, it really is worth it to at least try because you can, I swear, you can get better.
Danielle's Most Recommended Reads
The Intangible by C.J. Washington
Such a good novel about married life and the complexities of relationships. It's hard to explain but just trust me.
By The Book by Jasmine Gullory
Jasmine is the queen of Black romance and her books never fail to give me warm fuzzies. This is a book for people who love books.
I wish more people were talking about this book. It is such a good debut novel—sexy, thought-provoking and current.
The Fall Of Rome by Martha Southgate
Ok this is another book about academia (what can I say—I like learning!) but it's about race relations at a boarding school and it is a sobering and beautiful read.
The Gilded Ones and The Merciless Ones
Two books in a YA fantasy trilogy by a Spelman grad with a very distinctive commentary about power and patriarchy. It's YA so they are quick and easy reads.