Blog

Beautiful young african woman laughing outdoors

"I love when you count me out" -Kendrick LamarI want to talk about a feeling we all know too well. It's that subtle dismissiveness, the quiet doubt in someone's eyes, the unspoken assumption that you're not quite capable, not quite "it." It’s the sting of being underestimated, overlooked, or simply… counted out. As Black women, especially as we gain wisdom and stride confidently through life, this isn't just a hypothetical; it's often a lived experience.Maybe it was in a professional setting, where your ideas were minimized until someone else voiced them. A personal goal, where a dream was deemed "too big" or "unrealistic." Or the broader societal narrative that sometimes tries to diminish our power, our expertise, our very presence. You feel it – that quiet nudge to the side, that unspoken suggestion that your best days are behind you, or that your ambition is misplaced.It can be frustrating, even infuriating, to feel invisible or less than. It can make you question yourself, momentarily. But here's the profound truth I've come to embrace: sometimes, being counted out is the greatest gift.There’s a unique kind of fuel that ignites when someone underestimates your fire. It’s a powerful, internal shift. It's not about proving them wrong for their benefit, but about affirming your own unwavering belief in yourself. It becomes less about external validation and more about an unbreakable commitment to your own potential.When the world draws a line and places you outside it, it frees you. You're no longer playing by their limited expectations. You're suddenly operating on your own terms, powered by an underdog spirit that has nothing to lose and everything to gain. The energy that might have gone into seeking approval is now redirected into quiet determination, into meticulous planning, into the sheer, stubborn joy of proving it to the most important person: yourself.The "win" isn't always a grand, public spectacle. Sometimes, it's the quiet satisfaction of achieving a personal goal no one believed possible. It's the resilience you discover when you push through doubts, internal and external. It's the quiet triumph of knowing your own strength, even when others failed to see it. It's about blooming right where they thought you couldn't grow.So, the next time someone casts doubt, or subtly dismisses your capabilities, remember this: my God works in mysterious ways. That dismissal might just be the spark you needed. Let their underestimation be the wind beneath your wings, propelling you forward. Because there's a unique and powerful kind of satisfaction that comes from achieving what others deemed impossible. Let them count you out. We know that often, that's exactly when we're counting ourselves in.

Why Being Counted Out Fuels Our Wins

Silouette of young curly girl during sunset

Alright, beautiful souls, let's settle in for a moment. In our busy lives, especially as Black women who often carry so much, the idea of "silence" can feel like a mythical creature – rare, precious, and almost impossible to capture. We talk about needing it, chasing it, dreaming of it. But what is silence, really? Are we genuinely seeking an absence of sound, or is it something deeper, something far more profound that we crave, particularly during challenging times?I've been thinking a lot about this lately, as I go through my daily life here in Oklahoma. The world constantly bombards us with noise: the demands of family, the ping of notifications, the endless loop of news, even the internal chatter of our own minds. In this symphony of sound, "silence" often gets elevated to the ultimate luxury, a panacea for overwhelm.Maybe what we truly yearn for isn't just the quiet of the outside world, but the stillness within. It's not merely the absence of sound, but the presence of peace. It's the space where we can hear ourselves think, where our intuition can whisper, and where the constant demands quiet down enough for us to simply be.<figure id="figure-67y893ta5djmbhzkxjy"><img id="67y893ta5djmbhzkxjy" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1474998089/photo/woman-in-lotus-pose-yoga-studio.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=kITG26e64_vS3dWpUxva_MUcIqdzbz4kVthJRoh4G1s=" alt="woman in lotus pose yoga studio" title="woman in lotus pose yoga studio" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1474998089/photo/woman-in-lotus-pose-yoga-studio.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=kITG26e64_vS3dWpUxva_MUcIqdzbz4kVthJRoh4G1s=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>So I ask... Does our longing for silence stem from a genuine need for deep quiet, or is it a symptom of our exhaustion, a cry for that wholeheartedness that external noise often drowns out? Are we just wishing for it during difficult times, hoping it will magically make the problems disappear, or is it a foundational element for our ongoing well-being?It’s crucial to consider the nature of the silence we seek. Is it a deliberate choice for introspection and rejuvenation, or a retreat born of weariness, or even, at times, a form of self-suppression? As the brilliant Audre Lorde reminds us, "My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you." This powerful truth challenges us to discern when silence serves as a sanctuary and when it becomes a barrier to our growth, our voice, and our very protection.I believe that the feeling of silence we truly need is more than a fleeting thought in tough moments. It's a vital nutrient for our souls. Are we chasing actual silence, or are we truly needing something else? Maybe it's not the complete absence of noise that matters most, but the intentional creation of moments where external distractions fade, allowing our internal world to settle. It's about finding those pockets of stillness, whether it's a mindful walk, a quiet moment with a cup of tea, a few minutes of deep breathing, or simply sitting in stillness in our own homes.<figure id="figure-19uv0csrimbhzpodx"><img id="19uv0csrimbhzpodx" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1402835350/photo/pensive-relaxed-african-american-woman-reading-a-book-at-home-drinking-coffee-sitting-on-the.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=TUBkocwgeduhMZRuCcMi8H3V_cNlhm5ZODlNFRYJk1U=" alt="Pensive relaxed African american woman reading a book at home, drinking coffee sitting on the couch. Copy space." title="Pensive relaxed African american woman reading a book at home, drinking coffee sitting on the couch. Copy space." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1402835350/photo/pensive-relaxed-african-american-woman-reading-a-book-at-home-drinking-coffee-sitting-on-the.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=TUBkocwgeduhMZRuCcMi8H3V_cNlhm5ZODlNFRYJk1U=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>What does "silence" mean to you in this season of your life? How do you find those moments of stillness that truly nourish your spirit, distinguishing between a protective quiet and a silence that might hold us back? Make this a conversation today.

What Is This Silence We Seek?

Cool daddy entertaining two children at home

Watching the clips from the Kendrick and SZA tour, especially knowing it’s fueled by the raw energy of GNX (one of my absolute favorites!), something particular has been catching my eye: the kids. You see them in the crowds, sometimes hoisted on shoulders, singing along with surprising fervor, their parents right there beside them. And it sparks a powerful thought about trust and the unique space Kendrick occupies in our cultural landscape.There’s a layer of responsibility that comes with being an artist who commands such a broad audience. While Kendrick’s music can be complex and at times unflinching in its portrayal of the world, there seems to be a level of trust that parents are placing in his artistry, allowing their children to witness and engage with his work. It’s not just about catchy beats or viral trends; it suggests a recognition of the substance beneath the surface, a belief that even in exploring difficult themes, there’s something valuable, something real, for young minds to encounter.Perhaps it’s the underlying message of growth, resilience, and self-awareness that resonates, even if the nuances are still being processed. Maybe it’s the masterful wordplay and the captivating performances, that draw them in, sparking a curiosity about music and storytelling. Or, it’s the authenticity that shines through. Kids have a remarkable ability to sniff out what’s genuine, and Kendrick’s commitment to his truth, however complex, seems to connect with them on a fundamental level.Seeing these young faces in the crowd also speaks to the enduring power of hip-hop as a cultural force that transcends generations. It’s a living, breathing art form that continues to evolve and find new audiences. To witness parents sharing this experience with their children feels significant. It’s a passing of the torch, a shared moment of cultural understanding and appreciation.It makes you wonder about the conversations happening in those car rides home, the discussions sparked by the music and the performance. It suggests a level of engagement that goes beyond passive listening, an opportunity for dialogue between generations about the complexities of the world and the power of artistic expression.This tour, fueled by the brilliance of GNX isn’t just a concert; it’s a cultural moment. And seeing those young faces in the audience, their parents entrusting them to this experience, speaks volumes about the impact and the enduring legacy of Kendrick Lamar’s art. It’s a beautiful thing to witness, this bridge being built across generations through the power of music and a shared understanding of something truly special.

The Generational Embrace: Kendrick Lamar, SZA, and the Trusting Gaze of a New Audience

Lately, as the Tulsa &nbsp;air warms and the familiar urge to lace up my running shoes returns, my mind has drifted back to the miles I've covered. Not just the easy morning jogs, but the marathons, the grueling ultras, the countless races where every step was a testament to grit and determination. Running those distances wasn't just about crossing a finish line; it was a journey inward, a conversation with myself that stretched over hours and sometimes days. And as I reflect on those past endeavors, a powerful question arises: what do those glimpses into my former running self teach me about who I am today?Those early races, the nervous excitement at the starting line, the surge of adrenaline with the gun, the sheer will to push through the discomfort – they remind me of the resilience I've always possessed. Life, much like a marathon, throws its share of hills and headwinds. Remembering the times I dug deep, found that extra gear when my body screamed to stop, reinforces that inner strength that still resides within me, ready to be called upon when life presents its challenges.<figure id="figure-rjde9yjqlmmbfggugs"><img id="rjde9yjqlmmbfggugs" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/941932384/photo/fit-african-american-woman-running-at-runyon-canyon-with-los-angeles-in-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=v6DmuJdyfmpH6zS71tupzrBi23X1cuglSGnF6ktBamg=" alt="fit african american woman running at runyon canyon with los angeles in background" title="fit african american woman running at runyon canyon with los angeles in background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/941932384/photo/fit-african-american-woman-running-at-runyon-canyon-with-los-angeles-in-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=v6DmuJdyfmpH6zS71tupzrBi23X1cuglSGnF6ktBamg=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>The ultras, those seemingly impossible distances, taught me an even more profound lesson: the power of sustained effort and the importance of breaking down overwhelming tasks into manageable steps. Each mile in an ultra is a small victory, a testament to mental fortitude as much as physical endurance. This resonates deeply with the long-term goals I pursue today, whether in my business, my relationships, or my personal growth. The memory of conquering those vast distances whispers, "You have the capacity to endure, to persevere, one step at a time."And then there are the races that didn't go as planned – the ones where I hit a wall, where doubt crept in, where the finish line felt miles away. Those experiences, perhaps even more than the victories, taught me about self-compassion and the importance of learning from setbacks. They showed me that failure isn't the opposite of success; it's often a crucial part of the journey. Today, when I face obstacles, I can draw on those memories, knowing that I've weathered storms before and emerged stronger, wiser.<figure id="figure-lko30f2c6mbfgjw2z"><img id="lko30f2c6mbfgjw2z" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1434733413/photo/fitness-selfie-and-black-woman-with-strong-muscles-at-the-gym-training-exercise-and-workout.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=tNxpFLE_fsP4j-B24eTr4PQmRplZK-hAJ8PhkwgghKI=" alt="Fitness, selfie and black woman with strong muscles at the gym training, exercise and workout motivation, portrait. Healthy, wellness and young athlete with powerful body, arms and muscular biceps" title="Fitness, selfie and black woman with strong muscles at the gym training, exercise and workout motivation, portrait. Healthy, wellness and young athlete with powerful body, arms and muscular biceps" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1434733413/photo/fitness-selfie-and-black-woman-with-strong-muscles-at-the-gym-training-exercise-and-workout.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=tNxpFLE_fsP4j-B24eTr4PQmRplZK-hAJ8PhkwgghKI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure>Looking back at my running log, I see a younger version of myself, driven by ambition and a desire to push physical limits. But I also see the beginnings of the woman I am today – the discipline, the mental toughness, the unwavering spirit. The miles I ran weren't just about physical achievement; they were about building character, about understanding my own capacity for both strength and vulnerability.So, what does this glimpse into the past teach me now? It reminds me that the resilience I cultivated on those racecourses is still a vital part of me. It highlights the power of breaking down big challenges into smaller steps, a strategy that applies to any goal I pursue. It reinforces the importance of self-compassion in the face of setbacks. And perhaps most importantly, it shows me the continuous thread of strength and determination that has always been a part of my journey.<figure id="figure-e6mp9ohjskmbfgqalz"><img id="e6mp9ohjskmbfgqalz" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/858594190/photo/rear-view-of-young-woman-walking-in-park.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=HYYIEZm7Rwy7n2UQlepCeYRNb7_GuGWYNz0DslC1zqQ=" alt="Rear view of young woman walking in park" title="Rear view of young woman walking in park" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>Our past endeavors, whatever they may be, hold valuable lessons. They offer glimpses into the core of who we are, the strengths we possess, and the resilience we've built. Taking the time to reflect on those journeys can be a powerful way to understand our present selves and to draw upon the wisdom we've already gained as we continue to navigate the path ahead. The miles we've run whisper truths about the woman we are today, encouraging us to keep moving forward with confidence and grace.

The Miles We've Run: What Our Past Races Whisper to Our Present Selves

Shot of two attractive young women holding a mirror with their reflection in it against a sky background

Mother's Day. It arrives each year with a swirl of emotions, doesn't it? For some, it's a day overflowing with joy, gratitude, and the sweet embrace of a cherished bond. For others, it can be a complex, with longing, grief, or the quiet ache of unresolved wounds.As Black women, we understand the multifaceted nature of motherhood. We know that "mother" isn't always defined by biology. It's the auntie who stepped in, the grandmother who raised us, the older sister who guided our steps, the chosen family who nurtured our hearts. It's the fierce love, the support, the countless sacrifices made by those who poured they’re very being into shaping us.<figure id="figure-qqubj740qmagz4mau"><img id="qqubj740qmagz4mau" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2106860004/photo/top-view-of-women-holding-flowers-joining-hands.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=P6V6CK0Y-KcoyK4DFv0rpV_qfEO6yuNS0uLjHowtVbk=" alt="Top view of women holding flowers joining hands" title="Top view of women holding flowers joining hands" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2106860004/photo/top-view-of-women-holding-flowers-joining-hands.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=P6V6CK0Y-KcoyK4DFv0rpV_qfEO6yuNS0uLjHowtVbk=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure> I want us to broaden our lens and honor all those who embody the spirit of mothering. The ones who offered a safe harbor, a listening ear, a gentle hand to hold. The ones who instilled in us strength, resilience, and the belief in our own potential.Motherhood, in all its forms, carries its own weight of pain. The worry that never truly fades, the sleepless nights, the heartache of watching our children navigate their own challenges. There's a vulnerability that comes with loving so deeply, a constant awareness of the fragility of those we hold dear.And for some of us, Mother's Day can also bring to the surface the pain carried by our mothers, biological or otherwise. The wounds they endured, the sacrifices they made that may have left scars. The weight of societal expectations, the struggles against systemic injustices, the personal battles fought often in silence. As daughters, granddaughters, nieces, we sometimes carry the echoes of that pain, the unspoken burdens passed down through generations.<figure id="figure-nz65t5nykmagz82co"><img id="nz65t5nykmagz82co" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1457480498/photo/black-woman-with-curly-hair-meditating-at-home.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=1vaiDQTH9w1B8OOYzJMD9XeI2QV85MoEc1B-nwhjtzQ=" alt="Black woman with curly hair meditating at home" title="Black woman with curly hair meditating at home" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="null" data-positiony="null" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1457480498/photo/black-woman-with-curly-hair-meditating-at-home.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=1vaiDQTH9w1B8OOYzJMD9XeI2QV85MoEc1B-nwhjtzQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>This day can be a potent reminder of the need for healing – not just for us, but for the mothers in our lives, past and present. It's an opportunity to offer empathy, understanding, and perhaps even forgiveness. To acknowledge the imperfections, the mistakes made not out of malice, but often out of their own woundedness or the sheer weight of circumstance.Healing the mother's wounds, whether our own or those of the women who raised us, is a journey of compassion. It requires us to see them not just as the strong figures we often rely on, but as individuals with their own stories, their own struggles, their own vulnerabilities. It means creating space for open conversations, for acknowledging pain, and for offering the gentle balm of understanding.<figure id="figure-pcdh3idfxbmagzwe9d"><img id="pcdh3idfxbmagzwe9d" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1398077109/photo/closeup-father-and-son-holding-hands-while-walking-outside-in-the-garden-a-great-role-model.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=7HHMtKyMkomZBZ46pnNEV_Srj0JPEJa3xUdzXBsTHec=" alt="Closeup father and son holding hands while walking outside in the garden. A great role model and mentor for his boy child. A son will always look up to and follow in their dad's footsteps" title="Closeup father and son holding hands while walking outside in the garden. A great role model and mentor for his boy child. A son will always look up to and follow in their dad's footsteps" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>Maybe today, beyond the flowers and the cards, we can offer the gift of presence. A listening ear, a heartfelt conversation, a moment of quiet connection. Acknowledging the full spectrum of the mothering experience – the love, the joy, the pain, and the potential for healing – allows us to truly honor the profound impact these women have had on our lives.And on this day, my heart feels a special tug. Today is my own mother's birthday, and there's a certain longing that comes with that. I find myself missing the sound of her voice, the warmth of her laughter. While Mother's Day carries its complexities, it's those simple joys that feel most absent today.On Mother's Day, celebrate the love in all its forms. Offer grace and understanding. And hold space for the healing that can bloom when we acknowledge the full, complex heart of motherhood. If you're missing your mother's presence in your life today, for whatever reason, know that you are not alone in that feeling.<figure id="figure-8407mqirfumagzkk0t"><img id="8407mqirfumagzkk0t" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2168777512/photo/curly-black-mother-and-daughter-holding-hands-smiling-on-brown-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=CJWOk_o-jhpWE2-PjoKygCQSqlRWkDLcSUlR2m7ZC_U=" alt="Curly Black Mother and Daughter Holding Hands Smiling on Brown Background" title="Curly Black Mother and Daughter Holding Hands Smiling on Brown Background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2168777512/photo/curly-black-mother-and-daughter-holding-hands-smiling-on-brown-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=CJWOk_o-jhpWE2-PjoKygCQSqlRWkDLcSUlR2m7ZC_U=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure> &nbsp;

More Than a Day: Unpacking the Heart of Motherhood

Thinking about how to improve her business

Alright, fam, let's dive into something a little… spicy. You know I'm a Kendrick Lamar fan through and through, right? His lyrical genius just hits different. But, the hip-hop airwaves have been crackling with something else entirely: a good old-fashioned rap beef, specifically the Kendrick vs. Drake saga. And honestly? As a mental health advocate, it's got me thinking about this whole concept of "pettiness" and how we see it play out, even in the brilliance of artistry.Let's be real, there's a certain human satisfaction in a well-executed clapback, a perfectly landed diss track. It's like watching a verbal chess match, and when your favorite player (Kendrick, in my case, obviously!) delivers a knockout punch with his words? Whew, there's a certain thrill to it. It taps into that part of us that enjoys seeing someone stand their ground, call out perceived wrongs, and be a little bit petty about it.Now, in our everyday lives, "petty" often gets a bad rap, and for good reason. Holding onto grudges, focusing on minor slights, and letting bitterness fester can be seriously detrimental to our mental and emotional well-being. It keeps us stuck in negativity and drains our energy. As someone who champions mental health, I'm all about letting go of what doesn't serve us and cultivating peace.But here's where it gets interesting with this rap battle. On one level, it is a display of lyrical dominance, a competition for the crown. The clever wordplay, the intricate rhymes, the sheer artistry of crafting such pointed verses – that's undeniable brilliance. Kendrick, in his element, is a force to be reckoned with. And yes, some of those lines? They definitely have a sharp, even petty, edge.Yet, isn't there also a way to see this as… just that? A rap battle. A high-stakes game of verbal sparring within a specific cultural context? It's a tradition within hip-hop, a way for artists to prove their lyrical superiority. In that arena, a bit of well-crafted pettiness can be part of the game, a display of confidence and skill.For me, as a Kendrick fan, I'm here for the lyrical fireworks, the intellectual jabs, the sheer artistry of it all. Do I want to see real-world harm or negativity spill over? Absolutely not. But can I appreciate the brilliance of a well-placed, even slightly petty, line within the context of a rap battle? Honestly, yeah. There's a certain entertainment value, a display of verbal dexterity that's hard to ignore. It makes you think about how we define "petty" and where the lines are drawn. Is it different in the context of artistic expression, a competitive sport of words? Can we appreciate the skill without endorsing real-world negativity?Ultimately, I'm here for Kendrick's brilliance, his ability to dissect society, tell powerful stories, and yes, even deliver a lyrically savage line when the moment calls for it. And, we can enjoy the spectacle of a rap battle for what it is – a display of linguistic prowess, a competition for the mic, and just a little bit of that human tendency to enjoy a well-aimed verbal jab. What are your thoughts on all this? How do you see the line between artistic expression, competition, and plain old pettiness?&nbsp; &nbsp;

Come-Passionate Coaching, LLC

Blog

Why Being Counted Out Fuels Our Wins

What Is This Silence We Seek?

The Generational Embrace: Kendrick Lamar, SZA, and the Tr...

The Miles We've Run: What Our Past Races Whisper to Our P...

More Than a Day: Unpacking the Heart of Motherhood

Thought of the Day: Kendrick Lamar's Brilliance and the A...