The list of Non-Black people that black people DONT PLAY ABOUT:
Adam Sandler
Adele
Al Pacino
Betty White
Bill Nye
Bob Barker
Bobby Caldwell
Bob Ross
Bruce Lee
Chris Evans
Deniro
Dolly Parton
Ed Sheeran
Elliot Stabler
Glenn Close
Hayley Williams
Hardy Boyz
Harry Potter
Jackie Chan
Jane Fonda
Jeff Goldblum
Jerry Springer
Jim Carrey
Jon B
Judge Judy
Kathy Bates
Keanu Reeves
Marilyn Monroe
Maury
Meryl Streep
Mr. Rogers
Olivia Benson
Paul Wall
Paul Walker
Princess Diana
RDJ
Reba
Robin Williams
Sarah Paulson
Selena
Seth Rogen
Steve from Blue’s Clues
Steve Irwin
Stone Cold Steve Austin
Teena Marie
& Tony Hawk
… DASSIT. 🤣
Somebody said don't be afraid to spend money on concert tickets and travel. Be afraid of growing old and realizing the only place you ever went was work.
And I couldn't agree more.
MacKenzie Scott just awarded Morgan State University a $63 million gift, the largest in HBCU history.
She’s worth $41 billion dollars. She’s giving it all away
After Stephen Miller's "plenary authority" claim that Trump has the same absolute power as Hitler did, and now w/ revelations that Young Republicans are for all intents and purposes a Trump version of the Hitler Youth — how can ppl not notice that MAGA is simply Nazism recycled?
AOC: "Trump believes that if you don't vote for him, he doesn't have to be your leader. That if you didn't vote for him, that you don't deserve good things to happen to you. I don't care if someone voted for me or not... I want MAGA to have health care."
A message from a Kindergarten teacher:
After forty years in the classroom, my career ended with one small sentence from a six-year-old:
“My dad says people like you don’t matter anymore.”
No sneer. No malice. Just quiet honesty — the kind that cuts deeper because it’s innocent. He blinked, then added, “You don’t even have a TikTok.”
My name is Mrs. Clara Holt, and for four decades, I taught kindergarten in a small Denver suburb. Today, I stacked the last box on my desk and locked the door behind me.
When I started teaching in the early 1980s, it felt like a promise — a shared belief that what we did mattered. We weren’t rich, but we were valued. Parents brought warm cookies to parent nights. Kids gave you handmade cards with hearts that didn’t quite line up. Watching a child sound out their first sentence felt like magic.
But that world slowly slipped away. The job I once knew has been replaced by exhaustion, red tape, and a kind of loneliness I can’t quite describe.
My evenings used to be filled with construction paper, glitter, and glue sticks. Now they’re spent filling out digital reports to protect myself from angry emails or lawsuits. I’ve been yelled at by parents in front of twenty-five children — one filming me with his phone while I tried to calm another child mid-meltdown.
And the kids… they’ve changed too. Not by choice.
They arrive tired, anxious, overstimulated. Their tiny fingers know how to swipe a screen before they can hold a crayon. Some can’t make eye contact or wait in line. We’re expected to fix all of it — to patch the gaps, heal the trauma, teach the curriculum, and document every move — in six hours a day, with resources that barely fill a drawer.
The little reading corner I once built, full of soft beanbags and paper stars, was replaced by data charts and “learning metrics.” A young principal once told me, “Clara, maybe you’re too nurturing. The district wants measurable results.”
As if kindness were a weakness.
Still, I stayed. Because of the small, holy moments that no spreadsheet could measure —
a whisper of, “You remind me of my grandma.”
a shaky note that read, “I feel safe here.”
a quiet boy finally meeting my eyes and saying, “I read the whole page.”
Those tiny sparks were my reason to keep showing up.
But this last year broke something in me.
The aggression grew sharper. The laughter in the staff room turned to silence. The light went out of so many eyes. I watched brilliant teachers — my friends — vanish under the weight of burnout, their joy replaced by survival.
I felt myself fading too, like chalk on a board that’s been wiped one too many times.
So today, I began my goodbye. I pulled faded art off the walls and tucked thirty years of handmade cards into a single box. In the back of a drawer, I found a letter from a student from 1998:
“Thank you for loving me when I was hard to love.”
I sat on the floor and cried.
No party. No applause. Just a handshake from a young principal who called me “Ma’am” while checking his notifications.
I left my rocking chair behind, and my sticker box too. What I carried with me were the memories — the faces of hundreds of children who once trusted me enough to reach out their hands and learn. That can’t be uploaded. It can’t be measured. It can’t be replaced.
I miss when teachers were partners, not targets. When parents and educators worked side by side, not in opposition. When schools cared more about wonder than numbers.
So if you know a teacher — any teacher — thank them. Not with a mug or a gift card, but with your words. With your respect. With your understanding that behind every test score is a heart that cared enough to try.
Because in a world that often overlooks them, teachers are the ones who never forget our children.
Charlie Kirk whose life work was rooted in hate & evil got a moment of silence across the NCAA & NFL….
But Kyren Lacy who was a D1 Athlete, & would’ve been playing on Sundays got railroaded by an institution & the NFL & NCAA has nothing to say about it.
Napheesa Collier’s full statement today, where she challenged Commissioner Cathy Engelbert and the WNBA with directness and stunning detail we rarely hear from active players. Worth listening to every word.
Jimmy Kimmel goes after Trump and Brendan Carr for trying to shut down his show:
“The President made it very clear he wants to see me and the hundreds of people who work here, fired from our jobs. Our leader celebrates Americans losing their livelihoods because he can’t take a joke…
This show is not important, what is important is we get to live in a country that allows us to have a show like this”