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Raising Mothers

Celebrating & Centering Black, Indigenous and Brown parenthood since 2015

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Never Has This Momma Ever…

by Lisa Lim

NEVER HAS THIS MOMMA EVER. . . bought a million cute crop tops not remembering I have a post-baby belly.   NEVER HAS THIS MOMMA EVER. . . been shamed for working too much to provide for my family.     NEVER HAS THIS MOMMA EVER. . . just ignored the mess in front of me because I was too tired to give a shit.

May 22, 2023
Comics, Never Has This Momma Ever

Mama's Writing, curated by Starr Davis

May 11, 2023

Sayuri Ayers | Mama’s Writing

Mama’s Writing is Raising Mothers’ monthly interview series, curated by Starr Davis. What recent writing accomplishment(s) are you most proud...

by Starr Davis
April 18, 2023

Deesha Philyaw | Mama’s Writing

Mama’s Writing is Raising Mothers’ monthly interview series, curated by Starr Davis. What recent writing accomplishment(s) are you most proud...

by Starr Davis
January 3, 2023

Lori Tharps | Mama’s Writing

Mama’s Writing is Raising Mothers’ monthly interview series, curated by Deesha Philyaw. Are there days when you feel like a...

by Deesha Philyaw
December 1, 2022

Akilah Richards | Mama’s Writing

Mama’s Writing is Raising Mothers’ monthly interview series, curated by Deesha Philyaw. Nurturing a healthy relationship with my children requires...

by Deesha Philyaw
November 3, 2022

Issa Mas | Mama’s Writing

Mama’s Writing is Raising Mothers’ monthly interview series, curated by Deesha Philyaw. What three words describe you as a mother? ...

by Deesha Philyaw
October 5, 2022

Aliya King Neil | Mama’s Writing

Mama’s Writing is Raising Mothers’ monthly interview series, curated by Deesha Philyaw. What are three words your kids would use...

by Deesha Philyaw

Conversations

The Mamas | Ten Questions for Helena Andrews

by Sherisa de Groot

RAISING MOTHERS:     What inspired you to tell this story?  HELENA ANDREWS:     “The Mamas” was born out of hilarity, frustration, and new mom exhaustion. When I had my first daughter in 2017 then joined the prison gang otherwise known as my neighborhood mom group, I could not get over how ridiculous and white everything was. Baby yoga? Music class for seven-week-olds? WTF and also sign me up. Since writing is the only way I know how to process things, including my personal struggle with this all consuming new identity, I began writing notes to myself about the entire experience of being an extra Black mom in gentrified spaces. I knew other women were having the same double-take moments but I’d never read anything about it, so I wrote it. RAISING MOTHERS:     What did you edit out of this book? HELENA ANDREWS:     Honestly? Not much. I’ve written four books now, including two of my own memoirs, and my literary motto is “leave it all on the page.” But...

May 2, 2023
A Closer Book, Conversations Front Page, Ten Questions

We are the house: a virtual residency

Community as a Parenting Manual

By Kya Mara

I am the third-born of four sisters. Yet I cannot pride myself in taking on the “big sibling” roles like my oldest sisters. I definitely didn’t dream of being...

May 16, 2023
WATH

Taking Notes from Nature

By Kya Mara

Today is my birthday. As I sit by the shores of Lac du Moulin in Saint-Bruno-de-Montarville, Quebec, and consider hiking to Lac Seigneurial, I stare out at hundreds of...

March 1, 2023
WATH

Essays

A Mother’s Instincts

by Brandi-Ann Uyemura

The doctor said, “Sputtered.” For weeks, I devoured the word searching to understand it, to see if it held answers to what was happening to my infant son. On dictionary.com, there are several meanings, but in general it meant to strongly emit or eject anything such as food or saliva. To me it sounded banal and routine as if it were merely a scraped knee, a fallen ankle, or the way the pediatrician described it as a pause in an otherwise perfectly healthy engine.  When you are a new parent recovering from childbirth, in the throes of hormones and sleep deprivation, things can get blurry. The image of that day, however, is sharp. My husband held our four-pound one-week-old newborn on the white couch. The sun sliced through our window, shining on him like a spotlight. “Do we still have the parent handbook?” he asked. I passed my son to my husband after a failed attempt at nursing and was in a stupor searching for something—probably a drink of water, possibly a moment to...

October 29, 2020
Current Issue, Essays Archive

"Time is how you spend your love."

Zadie Smith
June 24, 2022

Learning (to be) Korean

My first and worst moment as a parent occurred on the same day. My husband and I waited two...

by Cynthia Landesberg
June 16, 2022

Given Name, Taken Name

There is a popular (albeit misguided) belief that BIPOC kids adopted into white families live white-approximate lives and grow...

by Joon Ae Haworth-Kaufka
June 16, 2022

Birthmark

Around age 10, I got a bad sunburn on my face. My adoptive mother didn’t really take sunscreen seriously....

by Chixue Yue
May 3, 2022

“This wasn’t a Black woman thing.”: An Excerpt from Adiba Nelson’...

“Everyone had always told me I was going to be such a good mother, and I had always seen...

by Adiba Nelson

poetry

June 28, 2022

Conceiving Basil

You are going through a workbook. Used to these. The finitude of a heavy hand and your mother’s equivalent...

by Andie Sheridan
June 28, 2022

The Naming

I don’t remember what they look like, the boys who surround the row where I sit alone on the...

by Sullivan Summer
June 28, 2022

Three Poems | Heather Hauck

Upon Meeting My Mother In my mind we sit across from each other in a crowded restaurant. The curve...

by Heather Hauck
February 1, 2022

De luto y sin dopamina

When I’m knee deep in laundry and memories, no one bothers with my title: Chief Executive Home Officer. I...

by Li Yun Alvarado
February 1, 2022

depressions of symptom

If I ever become an acclaimed writer, I’d worry about the interviews because I don’t know many words. I...

by Camille Posey
April 21, 2021

Some Mothers II

Some Some mothers Some mothers spend Some mothers spend every Some mothers spend every moment Some mothers spend every...

by Anna Limontas-Salisbury
October 27, 2020

In the Land of Milk and Honey We Are Lactose Intolerant and the Bees Are Dying

I hold these truths to be self evident   that this country is full of shit. It sucks the...

by Janel Cloyd
September 18, 2020

Lullabies for Black Boys

Tanka Lullabies for black boys  we try to make sense of why they kill our children seems black means...

by JP Howard

Columns

Fashioned to Survive

By Starr Davis

When a Black woman gets her hair done, it is both ritual and risk. It will require you to sit in a salon chair for hours, or under a...

July 18, 2022
The Political Body
Pregnant woman standing outside against a sunset.

Three Poems

By Daisy Muñoz

Immaculate Conception The day my mother confessed  She had conceived me though IUI, Guilt swallowed her eyes.  Her voice grew quiet And shame took over her body. She had...

March 14, 2022
Poetry Archive, The Political Body
A Black man holds his head in his hand. He is leaning against the foot of a bed. A person rests their hand on his shoulder.

I Had to Dial 9-1-1 on My Son During His Mental Health Crisis

By Carla M. Cherry

“Hello, 9-1-1. What is your emergency?”  The operator’s business-like monotone was exactly what I needed so I could focus.  “I need an ambulance,” I gasped into my cell phone....

February 10, 2022
Across the Spectrum, The Political Body
A smiling woman floating in water.

Notes on the Ancestral, Collective & Personal Body

By Fae Wolfe

I feel, therefore I can be free – Audre Lorde   personal & collective body I have come to learn that my body is not just my body—it’s an...

January 6, 2022
Columns Archive, The Political Body

Celebrating & Centering Black, Indigenous and Brown parenthood since 2015

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