Watching orange is the new black and the one white girl said look at all these Mexicans & the other one said nah their Dominicans. Dominicans are the ones who play baseball and swear they're not black even though they're on the same island as Haiti. BITCHHHH OTNB IS OUT HERE throwing shade and speaking truth this season.

The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (2007)

“Things have never been easy for Oscar, a sweet but disastrously overweight, lovesick Dominican ghetto nerd. From his home in New Jersey, where he lives with his old-world mother and rebellious sister, Oscar dreams of becoming the Dominican J. R. R. Tolkien and, most of all, of finding love. But he may never get what he wants, thanks to the Fukœ-the curse that has haunted the Oscar’s family for generations, dooming them to prison, torture, tragic accidents, and, above all, ill-starred love. Oscar, still waiting for his first kiss, is just its most recent victim. 

D’az immerses us in the tumultuous life of Oscar and the history of the family at large, rendering with genuine warmth and dazzling energy, humor, and insight the Dominican-American experience, and, ultimately, the endless human capacity to persevere in the face of heartbreak and loss. A true literary triumph, The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao confirms Junot Diaz as one of the best and most exciting voices of our time.”

by Junot Díaz

Get it now here

Junot Díaz was born in the Dominican Republic and raised in New Jersey. He is the author of the critically acclaimed Drown; The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, which won the 2008 Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award; and This Is How You Lose Her, a New York Times bestseller and National Book Award finalist. 

He is the recipient of a MacArthur “Genius” Fellowship, PEN/Malamud Award, Dayton Literary Peace Prize, Guggenheim Fellowship, and PEN/O. Henry Award. A graduate of Rutgers College, Díaz is currently the fiction editor at Boston Review and the Rudge and Nancy Allen Professor of Writing at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

[ Follow SuperheroesInColor on facebook / instagram / twitter / tumblr ]


So I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, and this is the perfect opportunity to do so.

The pic on the left is about 7 years ago, where my depression was at an all time high. I hated myself, and everything about me. My identity was directly tied into all the negative shit I grew up being told about myself. I felt like every day I was alive was torture. It really was the hardest state of my life.

Fast forward to the pic on the right. And one of the most important things I did for myself was to embrace myself. Embrace who I was. Embrace everything that I was taught to hate. And to stand tall as a proud Black queer person. 

Am I 100% healed? Am I completely free of all self-esteem issues? Am I no longer suffering from depression and anxiety? Hell no. But one things for sure, I am happy to be alive. And #Blackout is a reminder to me of what gives life to me. I no longer run from my Blackness. I’m not ashamed of it. I embrace it. It feeds me as I give energy to it. I embrace my Blackness, and it nurtures and lifts me up. I move forward in learning to love myself, because my Blackness loves me. 


Mi Abuelita, mi Granma.

Abuelita grew up in a world and time period where anti-blackness was not only a norm, but a standard. A society that owed most of its cultural traditions to our African ancestors, and yet through globalized and institutionalized forms of antiblackness, people like her, people who looked like her, were never to be valued. These beliefs were reminded to her daily as she was the oldest, and darkest daughter to a white-passing mother (who more likely than not also has African ancestry) and a Dark-Skinned father.

Her mother reminded her every day that a little black girl was never beautiful, but the lighter skinned sisters were indeed more beautiful.

Mi abuelita is a true example of what they were talking about with the phrase, “Women Warriors of the Afro-Latina diaspora” a woman who escaped political oppression, overcame racialized sexism, immigration and migration to and from several different countries, deportations, all to sacrifice herself for her children. Heck, she even chose to sneak onto a boat to Puerto Rico while she was pregnant with my mom with the hopes of giving my mother more opportunities.

Today, Abuelita is the matriarch of a line of people she continues to love and cherish, who constantly enforces good ol’ Dominican values and Afro-Dominican cultural traditions, while also challenging the anti-black leanings of her mother, who my grandmother takes full care of today as her mother suffers from late stages of Alzheimer’s.

I dedicate today’s Blackout to my Abuelita! 🇩🇴