When my parents repeatedly warned “Everybody is not your friend,” and “Choose your friends carefully,” they must’ve known the guilt-by-association trouble Jeffrey Epstein’s friends would encounter. From the rich and powerful to aspiring wannabes, I suspect we haven’t felt the full weight of this sordid sex trafficking tale and the unfriendly tenacles waiting to snare those who keep trying unsuccessfully to distance themselves from him. We’ve had a million distractions–legislative holidays, foreign invasions, resignations, political wrangling, court delays, and President Trump’s insistence that this is a partisan attempt to discredit him, but Epstein’s horrific acts won’t go away. We, the…
Author: Cynthia Bond Hopson, Ph.D.
Poverty is big business and a bunch of folks make millions from/because of it. Of course, I didn’t just figure this out– I said it in a lecture 30 years ago. My students and I then painfully discussed exorbitant rents, subpar housing, wages, food deserts that led to limited choices and chronic diseases—the list was longer than the lecture. What has prompted today’s conversation is the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday and its “day on not a day off” philosophy that emphasizes helping neighbors and an intentional focus on the dignity of work and our role all year. First, the…
Before I comment on whether Dr. Jamal Bryant’s wife’s ball gown at a recent UNCF fundraiser was too revealing, too tight, or inappropriate, let me first say I mind my own business because I have some, and, none of it goes by the name of Dr. Karri Turner Bryant. Even if Brother Bryant hadn’t bought the dress in question, and loved/hated it, or you thought it was way too much, we should do what blues great, Memphis Minnie, advised decades ago: “Use good judgment and keep your big mouth closed.” In the African American church, first ladies—(the pastor’s wife, not…
“Someday at Christmas man will not fail, hate will be gone and love will prevail; …maybe not in time for you and me, but someday at Christmastime…” As soon as the first Christmas card arrived, I pulled out the Christmas music. Nestled between “Silent Night,” “Away in a Manger,” and “O Holy Night” was my favorite, Stevie Wonder’s prolific “Someday at Christmastime.” The poignant lyrics, though almost 60 years old, could have been written yesterday. Songwriters Bryan Wells and Ronald Miller long for a Christmastime without wars, where “men won’t be boys playing with bombs like kids play with toys…,…
I’ve stopped counting which day this is for the federal government’s shutdown. The fact that there is a shutdown at all is the disgrace, so everything that happens as a result of it is a conversation we should not be having. After persons are elected as a senator or representative in our government, they take an oath. It says they will uphold the Constitution—not be more loyal to their party than the people who elected them—not cast blame and point fingers—not watch the “America First” moniker become a joke as our neighbors and friends line up at food banks and…
“Be a voice, not an echo.” These six words are a gentle reminder of my work each morning. Today they seem more mockery than inspiration as I decide which one I’ll be. My voice is right where it has always been, but my mighty pen, the voice I ordinarily shout with—the one that’s “mightier than the sword” has been in a strange and quiet place. I’ve mulled and discussed every hot-button question to death. I’ve fretted about what to say and to whom. I’ve worried that if I say what I’m thinking, I could wreak havoc or bring harm to…
We must stop hurling mean, hateful/hurtful labels
By Cynthia Bond Hopson, Ph.D. Nashville, Tenn. (TN Tribune)-Father’s Day 2023 will be tough and there’s no way to keep it from being. My father, John, and my great-uncle/dad, Carey, have been gone long enough to make me smile when they come to mind but not send me into a blubberingmess. My children and grandchildren, however, will have their first withoutRoger Anthony Hopson, their Dad and Poppy. His death in October feels like yesterday and on a given day I do pretty welluntil the wrong song comes on the radio, or these darned holidays roll around.My beloved Uncle Carey died…
By Cynthia Bond Hopson, Ph.D. May is one of my favorite months and here’s why. It’s almost midyear, we getApril-inspired flowers, we celebrate our heroes who’ve given the ultimatemeasure, most school sessions end, and soon summer will be in full swing. With all this excitement it’s easy to forget the serious stuff this month—national stroke, skin cancer, and mental health awareness, military appreciation, a focus on better sleep, hearing, and speech, and as the 70s soul group Sly and the Family Stone sang “and so on and so on, and scooby dooby dooby.” There’s enough to make you tired just…
By Cynthia a. Bond Hopson, Ph.D. My beautiful mother, Mrs. Alvis Marie Jones Bond, is my shero and I’m sograteful that God blessed me with her. My great aunt, Emma Jones Bowles,now rests with the angels but was absolutely a force to be reckoned with.Between the two of them, my grandmothers, great-grandmother, aunts,cousins, neighbors, other mothers—the women—all of them—they sharedtheir best selves with me, and the world and we are all the better for it. As I reflect on this upcoming Mother’s Day, I feel a lot like Mrs. Potato Head,the children’s toy with moveable and removable parts that you…