There’s one thing I want to clarify for everyone who is reading this now or may read this newsletter in the future: The Road We Trod is in no way affiliated with Afar. All of my thoughts, research and musings here are my own, and if you try to reach out to me through my newsletter to get to Afar, I will not respond. I want to make it clear that there is a hard boundary between this newsletter and Afar, and when you’re reading this, you may as well forget I work there lol.

Cracks knuckles Now that that’s out of the way, here’s what’s been on my mind. In January I had every intention to publish a newsletter near MLK Day but life was life-ing. Still, as the holiday approached, and the world became more of a clusterfuck, I was reminded of the fact that one of my goal books to read this year is the last book Dr. King published before his death titled Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community? So let’s just pause right here. Without even knowing what this book is about, isn’t it insane how prophetic the title is? As the United States descends further into chaos, I’ve found myself isolating out of fear, anxiety and dread. It has left me feeling exhausted from the moment I wake up, and in fear of nearly all of my fellow humans. Convinced that they are only out for themselves come hell or high water. Sounds like projection, no?

To try to shake myself out of my anxiety fueled depression, I signed my husband and I up for a MLK Day of Service at my former high school in Arlington, VA. We signed up to create welcome home bags for Affordable Homes and Communities, a nonprofit dedicated to providing quality affordable housing to low-income residents in Arlington. Before we assembled our bags, there was a kick off program where different volunteers were honored with service awards, and community leaders gave speeches about Dr. King’s legacy. During the program I found myself weeping uncontrollably.

I mean, I cried so hard I thought I might be pregnant because I didn’t understand why I was so emotional (i’m not, relax)! When my husband asked me if I was ok, all I could say was “I just haven’t felt hopeful in a really long time”. To be in a room filled with hundreds of people dedicated to serving each other, to lean into community and to practice love over hate (though there was a lovely amount of shade directed to that rat in the White House) was something I didn’t even know my spirit needed. The event was a turning point for my outlook, and as I think about Dr. King’s book, I’m working so hard every day to lean into community over chaos.

As this book hopefully becomes the theme for my year (I will be reading it next month), I’ve noticed that many of the Black culture-related openings I’m looking forward to this year carry a similar theme. Here are the ones that excite me the most.

Memphis

You all know how much I love Memphis and I cannot wait for the opening of the most recent addition to the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel. Opening May 15, the Legacy Building—the former boarding house from which James Earl Ray shot Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.—will unveil a permanent exhibit that’s deeply rooted in the seemingly never ending fight for civil rights, and takes a close look at King’s mission as laid out in his book Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community? Five galleries will carry the themes of poverty, education, housing, gender equity, and nonviolence, and guests will be challenged to explore the structural inequalities Dr. King warned of, and how those injustices still shape American life today. If I don’t make it to Memphis for the opening, I plan to take a trip later this summer to read every single museum placard.

Chicago

AMERICA’S BOYFRIENDDDD! HIS PRESIDENTIAL LIBARY IS OPENING!! Remember when we had a handsome, intelligent, witty, charming, Black President we could be proud of? I do, vividly. I’m not going to wax poetic about how much I miss him and Michelle because I’m sure that if you read this newsletter, you do too. Fortunately, we all can now get even closer to them and their legacy with the opening of the Obama Presidential Center on June 18. I got the chance to tour the building when it was still an active construction zone last summer and it was so exciting to see just another piece of his legacy in physical form. I don’t think we’ve ever had more of a community-minded president, at least in my lifetime, so I know that a visit to the center will fill me with so much hope and inspiration.

Juneteenth, everywhere

In the context of all of the events taking place to commemorate the 250th birthday of the United States, it feels more important than ever to celebrate Juneteenth wherever you are. I was raised with a father who instilled in me the history of the famed 1852 Frederick Douglass speech “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?,” a fiery challenge to the well-meaning ladies of the Rochester Ladies' Anti-Slavery Society to ask themselves, why should we celebrate the “birth of freedom” when not all Americans are free? It’s a question that so many of us Americans will be asking ourselves on this 250th anniversary. Instead, I personally plan to celebrate the 160th anniversary of the first Juneteenth celebration which was a grassroots celebration that took place in 1866 (the actually announcement of liberation was 1865) in Galveston, Texas. Today the city hosts one of the largest and oldest Juneteenth parades, plus there’s an unbeatable walking tour where you can visit the sites where the announcement took place. Luckily for us all, there are Juneteenth celebrations across the country, but some of the biggest ones take place in Tulsa, Buffalo, and Milwaukee but if you do your research, I’m sure there’s one even in your small town! Finally, as a reminder, this is not a “Black holiday”. If you are supportive of slavery being over, this holiday is important to celebrate as a full American holiday.

New York

Back in the fall of 2023, the first trip that Chris and I ever took together was to New York and we got the chance to experience a touring pop up of the Hip Hop Museum set to open in the Bronx. I posed in front of a recreated entrance of 1520 Sedgwick Avenue, an apartment building known as the birthplace of hip hop; checked out a Run DMC gold chain; and looked through an old photo album with snapshots of Queen Latifah from the early 90s. And speaking of community, there’s no better party than a hip hop partyyyyy. Ever since that day, we’ve been patiently waiting for the opening of the Hip Hop Museum and I’m so excited to see that it’s finally slated to open to the public this fall.

*****

As you all know by now, I’m a big history nerd so it should come as no surprise that what I’m most excited for in Black culture this year skews towards museums and cultural spaces. However, I want to know what you’ve heard about. Is there something Blackity Black Black Black that’s on your list to check out this year? The second half of my year is wide open so I’m very ready to explore. Please let me know below!

x, S

A few weeks ago, my Mom and I went to dinner in Georgetown, then afterward spent a few minutes driving around the neighborhood admiring the gorgeous Christmas decorations. While observing in silence, my Mom literally read my mind and said aloud “I am amazed at how many of these homes have no curtains in their front windows and you can stare straight into their houses.” It reminded me of so many other times when I’ve strolled affluent, mostly white neighborhoods in D.C. and noticed the exact same thing.

My response? “White people experience a level of comfort in this country that we will never know.”

This lead to a conversation about if the roles we reversed, there would be a level of surveillance through the windows of these fictional Black families that would be absolutely unbearable. Sure, it possible that leaving your blinds and windows open could be a class thing (after all, Georgetown is one of the most affluent neighborhoods in D.C.), but I’m pretty confident in my belief that Black families would never feel comfortable enough to throw back the curtains of their windows to the world, because we know how the world judges us, and our homes so often are the only places we feel safe.

I absolutely hate that for us.

The desire to find and share the places in the world, and especially in this country, where we can feel safe and welcome is exactly why I created The Road We Trod. I want Black travelers to know that we deserve to feel safety, inclusion and celebration wherever we go, especially in the places where we decide to spend our hard earned money (and hard earned time off).

So, as we enter a new year, I have a gift for all of you subscribers who’ve rocked with me through so many major life transitions and publishing inconsistencies 😅

Introducing the The Black Traveler’s Safe and Celebrated City Guide! This is a mini-guide to four American cities that I have personally visited that are rich in Black history, Black culture and Black-owned businesses. This guide is not extensive, but is a great start to help you plan your Black culture-centered travels in the new year. Even if you can’t make it to these cities, I hope this guide will serve as inspiration to help you plan a culture-rich trip closer to home. Please tell me what you think of it!

The Black Traveler's Safe And Celebrated City Guide The Road We Trod

15.2MB ∙ PDF file

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Thank you so much for supporting me in this mission. This guide is just a small way for me to show my appreciation, and I’m definitely planning for more ways to share my gratitude in 2026.

To everyone relatively new here: welcome! I’m so glad you found me. To learn a bit more about me, read this and this.

Would you like to support me even more?

Upgrade to a paid subscription here.

Shop my curated, favorite travel products here, including Black-owned brands.

Wishing you many blessings and many travels in 2026!

Shayla

One of the reasons people seek our writing is because we are human, which means we have to treat ourselves as such and take care of ourselves when life gets in the way of our work. These words have brought me solace as it taken me more than three months to get back to publishing. Three months filled with massive life changes that were a threat to my sanity, much less a threat to my writing. Still, even in the midst of trying to give myself grace, I felt like I let my audience down. But ironically, here’s what I’ve learned during this time:

1. People are so much better at giving me grace than I am at giving it to myself.

2. I’m not that important (lol). No one seemed to miss my absence or felt the need to angrily vocalize to me that they wanted to hear from me. In fact, my subscribership grew immensely while I was away. I’m not quite sure what to do with that information, lol, but I am so glad to welcome those of you new to this site (more on that later).

3. Travels are timeless. I’ve gone back and forth about if it’s too late to tell you all about the mother daughter trip I took to Switzerland in September, or to create a Black travel guide on a new city. But the reality is, people are traveling and seeking travel inspiration on their own timeline, not mine. All I can hope for is that my words meet people where they are on their travel planning journeys, and it really doesn’t matter if the trip I’m writing about took place last week or last year.

So, that being said, I’m feeling grateful that I’ve ripped off the bandaid, lovingly told my anxiety to have a seat, and finally gotten back to this newsletter that I love so much. For those of you new here: welcome. I’m so thankful that you’ve chosen to join my little corner of the internet for news and inspiration regarding Black travel. Exploring Black history sites and supporting Black businesses and communities feels more important now than ever and I appreciate your support.

For the OGs, those who have waited out this bout of silence: Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for giving me grace when I fail to give it to myself. Thank you for your free and paid subscriptions. Thank you for your comments and words of encouragement. I love the community we’ve developed here and I look forward to keeping it going. I’ve got some surprises and extras I’ve been working on in the background that I’ll be gifting to you all soon.

Last but absolutely not least, I figured I’d share part of what has absorbed so much of my time and mental space over the last three months. I GOT MARRIED!! Planning a wedding is not for the weak (whew LORD), and I will never ever do it again, but I am happy to say that after 10 months of planning, our wedding was absolutely beautiful and I am completely obsessed with my husband. This sacred newsletter felt like the perfect place to share a few photos from the day, for the first time ever. So please celebrate the fact that you are seeing these before social media lol. Black love FTW!

More travel stories coming soon. Much love,

Shayla

July, WTF. Before I get into this essay topic that I’m super excited to talk about, I just had to say that July was not kind to me. I’ve mentioned here before that i get seasonal depression during the summertime, and let me just say that last month was one of the worst I’ve had in a long time. The first two weeks of July were dicey to my mental health to say the least, and although I know I’m not a machine, I still feel like I want to acknowledge that you all haven’t heard from me in a little bit and offer a reason why. Here’s hoping that August will be much sweeter, and so far, so good.

Moving on. I never realized how much traveling with your parents as an adult was an anomaly before I started sharing on social media photos and videos of annual trips that I take with my Mom. We take at least one major trip a year, usually around one of our birthdays (or both!) and the trips span both domestic and international locales. She is legitimately one of my favorite travel partners, usually interested in the same types of activities I am: museums, theater shows, walking tours, and of course food. She (mostly) trusts my decisions to take part in activities that I find on the internet, like a secret garden rooftop restaurant in Vietnam that I found on google that I wanted to visit during our 2019 trip. She may have side-eyed me the entire time during our walk through a slightly sketchy alley and climb up three flights of dirty stairs to get there, but she was thrilled when we arrived to the darling space. Or there was the time in Rome where we made friends with a snappily dressed man in Vatican Square that I read about on the internet who scored us tickets to see the Papal mass when we were too late to score them the traditional way. She’s always down to have an adventure and I adore her for that.

In the past, when I’ve considered our travels together, I’ve definitely felt lucky to have a Mom that I get along with well enough to travel with, but now that I’ve lost my father and am about to get married, I see our travels completely differently. My parents always brought me along with them on their travels when I was a child, but as I got older, I relished in traveling solo and getting to learn about who I am and what I’m made of through travel. I never considered the fact that my parents could have had the exact same experience with their own travels as young adults before I came on the scene. My Dad lived in France during his time in the military for nearly four years in the 1960s, and though he always talked about his experience glowingly, I never really understood how formative that must have been for him as a young Black military man from Montgomery, Alabama. We traveled to France when I was a child and teen, but I didn’t have the awareness that I have now as an adult as to how much that experience must have shaped how he saw the world and himself in it. Think about it, he was there at the same time as James Baldwin. A time when, if they had the ability to do so, Black people were leaving the United States for a sense of belonging in France that they didn’t have in their own country. How disorienting that must have been for him. I wonder how he was able to face coming back to the United States to be treated as a second-class citizen at best, in his own home country.

I always dreamed of going back to France with my Dad as an adult and we talked about it often, but the reality was that in my 20s, neither he nor I had the financial means to do so. It is one of my biggest regrets, even though there’s valid reasoning for why it never happened. I’ll never forget the moment when I was living in Madrid at age 27, walking down the street and I stopped in my tracks thinking “damn, Dad had pretty much this exact same experience of living in a foreign country at my age.” I called him in that moment and we talked about it. I was able to bask in his memories of that time in his life, but I still carry so much grief that I didn’t get the chance to relive those moments with him as an adult in the actual place. Through his dementia over the last few years of his life and his eventual passing, I feel like those memories are lost and that I’ll yearn the opportunity to know who my Daddy was as a young man for the rest of my life. For now, I’m grateful I get to hold on to the memories we made together through our travels when I was growing up, but it’s truly not the same.

The pain I feel over losing that opportunity with my Dad has completely reframed my opportunity with travel with my Mom. My Mom has LIVED, honey. I mean, both of my parents totally grabbed life with both hands and shook the hell out of it, but my Mom is the parent I have left to learn about and soak up life lessons from, especially during such a transitional period of my life. I want to know who she was as a young woman, how she developed a sense of self-confidence, and where her curiosity about the world came from as a young girl growing up in small-town southwest Louisiana. A few years ago, I learned that her love of travel came from a “life-changing” (her words) trip to Switzerland when she was 19 years old, in 1969.

Let me just pause right there so you can really understand the magnitude of this trip. My mother is from a town of less than 3,000 people. Her parents did not attend college and at that point had barely left the south, much less the country. She was the oldest of four and the first to attend college. Her sorority and hometown helped her raise the $1500 dollars (including airfare!) required to join an Experiment in International Living trip to Switzerland for two months where she traveled with other students (she was one of two Black students in the entire cohort) from across the U.S. throughout several cities in Switzerland, including a homestay. Whenever she talked about this trip, she told me again and again how much it changed her life and opened her world to a life beyond Louisiana. It was the spark of a love of travel that was passed down to me.

After several years of talking about it. I’m so EXCITED to share that next month, Mom and I will be taking our annual “big trip” to Switzerland to recreate as much of her original trip as we can over the span of one week. I can’t wait to experience a new-to-me country through her memories as a 19-year-old. Whenever I think about this trip for us, I am filled with overwhelming amounts of gratitude because I understand how rare it is to be able to do something like this with a parent. I’m especially excited to do this before I get married because I do get the sense that my Mom may wonder where she will fit into my life after marriage, and I want her to know that she will always remain a priority. So much so that I told her I’d rather take this trip together than have a bridal shower lol 😂

I can’t wait to share more about what we have planned for the trip and how it goes over the next few weeks. To be clear, for those of you reading this who feel like you’ll never be able to travel with your parents for whatever reason, please know that my Mom and I have had our travel challenges as well. I don’t want to make it seem like our travels together are always rainbows and butterflies. We’ve had to work through physical limitations, differences in opinion, her feeling like I was being too reckless in the activities that I wanted to do and me feeling like I didn't come all this way to sit in the hotel room or be treated like a child lol. It has taken lots and lots of communication, crying fits and patience for us to get to where we are now with our trips together, so if you feel like traveling with a parent may not be in the cards for you mentally or emotionally, trust me, I get it.

That said, have you either successfully or unsuccessfully taken a trip with a parent? I want to hear about it in the comments. If you have any Geneva, Zurich or Lucerne travel recs for us, please drop them in the comments as well.

Finally, I’m so happy to share that I was recently accepted as a ShopMy Curator, so now you all can shop my personal favorite travel products.* If you all want to know more about some of the tactics and products that have helped Mom and I to travel together relatively smoothly, I’d be happy to share more. Thanks, as always, for reading.

*Some of the links on this page are affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you make a purchase — at no extra cost to you. I only recommend products I truly love or use myself.

The fact is, I am so filled with anxiety I can barely do the bare minimum right now. It doesn’t help that I live in the greater Washington, DC area, so I feel like geographically, my family and I have a bullseye placed on us for any sort of retaliatory attack. I’m also a longtime sufferer of summertime seasonal depression (yes, this is a real thing), combined with waves of grief surrounding the death anniversaries of both my Father and Grandfather in May and June (with Father’s Day sitting right in between both dates), your girl has been going THROUGH IT. Real talk, the past five weeks or so have been emotionally hellish, even before the sprinkling of WW3 on top of it all and 100-degree days expected this week. 🥴

Although summer tends to be the season when people travel the most, a few months ago I casually polled my readers to ask them how policies in the U.S. were affecting their travel plans. Mind you, this was BEFORE the ICE raids and Iran attack, but when folks were getting their phones seized by customs and border agents and tariffs were very much will-they or won’t-they. Here’s a bit of what they said, with a bit of my response in the blue bubbles.

The general consensus seems to be that like me, folks are scared. There’s so much financial insecurity which can understandably make travel feel low on the priority list when so many of us are struggling to cover the basics (or trying to pay for a whole damn wedding. hi, it’s me!). We’re also scared of each other. This administration has bred so much cruelty and vitriol in both its domestic and international policies that it’s really hard to imagine where travelers, especially those of marginalized communities will feel safe. I also have to say that the travel industry is not doing a good job at standing up to acknowledge these facts at all.

I just returned from the IPW Conference, a travel conference with the literal tagline of “Bringing the World to America”, that’s produced by the U.S. Travel Association and in my opinion, not a single executive spoke transparently and aggressively about how this administration is negatively affecting our industry. How can people support the idea of bringing the world to America when those same international travelers may be detained at the border for no reason beyond sharing a social media post against genocide?

Then there’s the new travel ban against 19 mostly Middle Eastern and African countries, and 36 more countries including Caribbean nations that are on the TBD list. I’m just so tired of this toe the line attitude that I’m seeing from travel industry executives, especially because their lack of willingness to take a stand is not preventing cuts to their organizations. Less than two weeks before the conference started, Senator Rafael Cruz (a Cuban born in Canada who goes by Ted in order to snuggle up to whiteness) proposed an $80 million cut to Brand USA, the marketing arm of the U.S. Travel Association. Was this mentioned or addressed at the conference? No. Were there any opportunities throughout the week for all of the gathered domestic and international media to publicly ask questions? Nope! So ya’ll are just gonna stay quiet and still get your jobs snatched anyway? Cool cool cool.

It’s so exhausting.

This collective exhaustion is why I’ve completely changed my travel plans this summer. What I mean by that is that I don’t have any travel plans. I am not taking any work trips, and I’m not going on any personal trips that involve air travel unless they are wedding-prep related. This was a complicated decision, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time. As someone who has practiced travel as a form of self-care for years, I’ve decided that in this moment, my need for self-care has to come in a different form.

I struggle so much during the dreaded summer months that I created a “2025 Summer Depression Care Plan” to help care for my mental, emotional and physical needs, and one through-line that appeared as I listed out my preferred activities is a need for structure. I know from many years of experience that I feel my best when I have a routine, and for me there is nothing routine about traveling. I may have fun for four or five days pretending to be a resident of a new place, but the hangover of irregular bedtimes, no exercise, weird time zones and an unfamiliar diet lasts for weeks when I get home. Maybe I’m kidding myself with the false sense of control that a routine gives me, but when those in charge seem to want to create as much chaos as possible right now, I’m clinging to whatever sense of stability I can find.

And to be honest, and I know this goes against the brand I’ve created for myself, I want to feel safe. Like I said above, living in the DC area does not feel safe (I’m sure this case can be made for all of the U.S. right now), so the least I can do is create a life for myself where I feel safe within my own body. This looks like eating nutritiously, growing my garden, yoga and meditation, spending time with my family, going to bed and waking up at the same time every day and doing my best at my job. I’m lucky that I’ve traveled so much leading up to this point that I can continue to provide Black travel guides and share travel expertise with you amazing readers, but will I be out and about exploring new places this summer? Nah.

I thank you all for letting me create a space where I can be brutally honest with you, but I hope that my plans for myself do not affect whatever travel plans you have this summer. I still believe that travelers, especially Black travelers, should explore the world and this country and take part in the joy that is our God-given right. I pray that you all take music-filled road trips, sip frozen drinks and get bronzed along a coastline somewhere, and take in as many summer festivals and free summer concerts as you can. I will be doing the same! It’s just that I’ll be doing it locally. Please remember that your joy is a form of resistance, whether you’re practicing it away from or close to home.

Has the current state of the world affected your summer travel plans? Where do you plan to travel this summer? If you’re staying home, where’s home? Please let us all know how you will be practicing joy and self-care this summer! I think we all need the inspiration 😊

I just completed an emotionally complicated week of mourning my father on the first anniversary of his transition to the spirit world (May 22) and attempting to celebrate my birthday (May 23), and my goal is to spend the rest of the summer getting out of DC and heading to a spa resort as often as I can. With that in mind, I wanted to do something a bit different for this month’s Black travel guide and share with you all several Black-owned spa resorts to explore the next time you get the chance. I have to say, while doing my research, it hurt my heart to see how few spa hotels are Black-owned. The below spas are literally the only ones I could confirm that are Black-owned and also offer overnight lodging. That said, there’s only more room for growth, so hopefully someone reading this may one day become a hotelier to add to the list!

Read more

Yesterday I read a post from We Need A Black Woman in Charge, a substack by Zuri Stevens that finally freed me to write about an experience that threw me into a spiral and left me unable to write about any of the fun and lighthearted travel information I wanted to share with you all. This was just too heavy and I need to get it off my chest.

Last month, I was invited by a travel organization to participate in a mentorship program to work with people in the early stages of their careers of becoming a travel writer. Since I’ve been in this game for more than 13 years, I was so excited to share some of the knowledge I’ve gained and pass along what was given to me by a few travel writers who helped me when I was young buck. I was paired with a luminous and smart young Black woman who shared the same passions that I do, sharing the stories of Black culture around the world, and we were so excited to engage in the itinerary that was prepared for us that was focused on the Black and Indigenous cultural experiences within the destination.

From the first activity we had, I could tell the organization missed the mark. While we learned a lot, the trip was riddled with missteps including people not expecting us when we showed up, and folks that didn’t seem to know exactly why we were there. The intention of the program was to experience these activities so that my mentee could later write about them for a blog post on the destination’s website, yet a few of the tours and meet ups seemed to think we were there to interview them as opposed to going on tours. There was also a moment in a spa where we realized that another pair of attendees had full treatments in the spa while we did not. The reasoning for this was later explained and completely valid, but the optics were bad, making it appear as if we were getting the short end of the stick. Throughout our two days in the destination, I was vocal with the destination team about what we experienced, as it was begged from us from the beginning that the they wanted real-time feedback throughout every part of our trip.

As the mentor, I felt that it was my role to share our feedback, as opposed to my mentee sharing it, although she was with me the entire time and we both experienced these things. I spoke to one member of the team over the phone during our trip who was so receptive, and I felt seen and heard, so much so that I spoke openly and unfiltered. I learned the hard way that this was a mistake. Figuring this would be the end of the feedback sharing portion of the trip, we continued our day and hoped for a calm and peaceful ending to the trip.

In her post titled “Come for me, I don’t Care” Zuri writes about her own experience being silenced by a predominately white organization who hired her as a consultant, then fired her after she shared her feedback. She states:

“The reality though is that the client, a group of bitter and frustrated white women, demanded total and complete submission. I wasn't ever supposed to contradict what they said even when what they said was wrong. I was expected to obey and comply without question. How dare me, the lowly, Black woman have an opinion on anything? How dare me ever challenge them?…I knew a week after I got into the new gig, even though I was hired for my expertise, at the end of the day, what was required was for me to submit.”

I started shaking when I read her words and I’m shaking with anger as I now write these. On the final day of my trip, I accompanied my mentee on our final group experience which was a night of stargazing. I didn’t want to go because I was exhausted, but I felt that pressure that so many Black women feel about not wanting to appear as the bad guy. The one person that decides to put themselves first, but then gets labeled as not a “team player”.

Upon entry to the stargazing experience, I was ambushed and cornered by the head of this travel organization. An older white man that I had not had a full conversation with the entire time we were there, but who had heard some of my feedback that had seemingly been twisted like through a game of telephone.

As soon as we arrived to the stargazing experience, he turned to me and said “I hear our trip has not lived up to your expectations.” At this moment, warning bells started going off in my head. My mentee continued walking to join the group but he repeated the passive aggressive comment to me, demanding a response. I laughed and said that yes, there have been a few missteps, but I quickly realized he was pissed and not joking. He became more upset, barely covering his anger to the point that I turned to him and said “Are you ok? You seem upset".

He made it clear that I was the problem. He said “we’ve done this program for three years and you are the only person to complain.” He even went so far to share his unsolicited first impressions of me, one being that he was upset that I asked for signage on our first night over a platter of food that none of us knew what the ingredients were. I gave him a blank stare and said “I cannot believe you are taking it as a personal attack that I asked what was in the food when another attendee was standing next to me who was vegetarian and didn’t know what she could eat.” He said I came off as ungrateful.

At this point I said “Ok, I’m not doing this. Sure, I’m the problem. Whatever makes you feel better.” He accused me of bad-mouthing the organization to their partners, while I repeated that they were the ones who demanded our feedback, yet are now demonizing people who offer it.

I tried to walk away and he followed. I threatened to scream as by this point I’m in tears and he quickly tried to de-escalate the situation. He eventually apologized repeatedly, stating that he wanted to figure out from me where they went wrong because he felt like the organization failed us in our experience.

I said to him “And you really felt like this was the best way to go about it? That is not how you started this conversation. You should have started it with a question about what we experienced on our trip instead of ambushing me wth passive aggressive comments and not including both myself and my mentee in this conversation.”

By this point, he is regretful and nearly in tears himself. I didn’t care. How many times have we seen white people weaponize their tears so that we become the aggressor? He said that the last thing he wanted was for a young Black journalist (my mentee) to feel like they didn’t have a good experience as everyone else.

Again I said “And what about this exchange? What about the power dynamics here? You really thought that it was appropriate for you, an older white man and Vice President of this organization to corner me, a Black journalist and make it seem like I’m single-handedly trying to destroy you over mistakes you all have made?” He hung his head in silence. I was competely sobbing at this point, with my nervous system feeling shot to hell.

Zuri Stephens says in her post: “A friend of mine, a professor at Harvard recently said that this was “Black fleecing”, a little bit like green washing, but you use Black people to make others believe that you are working with Black people and including Black people in your decision making. But when time comes to make a decision, you don't let them. You silence them.”

I would not be silenced. We eventually got to a place in the conversation that was calm where I shared what I felt could have been done better, but I was roiling inside and only offered the appearance of calm as a means of self-preservation. I could not believe his caucasity. Eventually, while he talked, I dissassociated, staring into space until he finished apologizing. He asked if I was ok and I said I was shell-shocked. He apologized again as I stated that this whole exchange felt fitting as the end of a trip that was a mess. He was despondent.

The next morning I recounted the entire experience with my fiance and cried and shook the entire time. I told him that I would be sharing no more feedback with the team, but would be telling my mentee everything that happened. I wanted her to know how organizations will try to act like they want your expertise and lived experience, but then gaslight you over it, but it doesn’t mean we stop speaking up. It doesn’t mean we stop sharing our stories.

Zuri says it better than I could have put into words: “At the end of the day, it's about preserving my authenticity, my dignity, my sense of self. And when I think about it, even further, as I did, for quite a while last night as I lay in bed, "I need to model the behavior I want my kids to follow. I need to model that behavior to make sure that they don't take shit in the world”.”

The organization invited my mentee and I back to experience the destination again so they could try to right their wrongs, but I won’t be going back under their tutelage. I refuse to be a sacrificial lamb. I will continue sharing my truth and holding these destinations accountable. I will not share the version of the stories they want me to tell.

So this is for all the DMOs and travel organizations out there: don’t invite me if you don’t want my truth. If I can plainly see the systemic racism in your organization and your destination, I will talk about it. This doesn’t make me the bad girl, it means that you need to DO BETTER.

S

P.S. Thank you Zuri Stevens for your honesty and your authenticity. Thank you for your courage in wiritng your piece and for helping me to find my own courage. Thank you Shiela Harmon Martin and Yancey Martin for raising me to be a woman who knows exactly who she is and where she belongs in this world. You both are the best parents a child could ask for.

P.P.S. I will not be naming the organization or the destination. They don’t deserve anymore of my time or energy.

Some of you may have seen that I covered Asheville’s burgeoning comeback after last fall’s devastating hurricane Helene for The New York Times this January. It was an honor to include my favorite Blue Ridge mountain town as part of their ‘52 Places to Visit in 2025’ list, but my love of Asheville has lasted for more than a decade. I first fell in love with the food scene back in 2013, but more recently I’ve dug deep into the region’s Black history and culture. There’s even a specific term for the Black culture that’s unique to this part of the country: Affrilachia. First coined in 1991 by Kentucky poet Frank X Walker, the term highlights the cultural contributions of Black folks who live in Appalachia, a region that greater American society would want you to believe is ONLY poor and ONLY white thanks to people like the current weirdo vice president. Note: Read more about Black writers and Affrilachia here.

After spending some time in Asheville on what was probably my 8th or 9th trip, yet first time doing a deep dive into Black culture there for this 36 Hours in Asheville story for The New York Times, I decided I wanted to flip this “poor and white” narrative on its head and highlight the Black communities that have been in this town for decades. I learned about the thriving middle class Black communities that existed here, and the Black communities of today working to share their heritage with the masses. In a time where our government is literally trying to erase us, it’s more important now than ever to support these communities with our love and dollars.

Below, The Road We Trod’s Black Travel Guide to Asheville.

*Note, this is not a comprehensive list, but covers the places I personally have visited, and places I plan to visit in the near future.*

P.S. Interested in more Black travel guides in the future? Please consider becoming a paid subscriber, where you’ll receive one Black travel city guide per month.

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I’m not writing about Black history month this year. This is a big deal so let me flex on y’all for a minute. I’ve covered Black history month through the lens of travel for globally-respected media publications and travel brands like the New York Times (here, here and here), Veranda, CNN Travel, and more over the years, and it has personally been very important for me to do so. Recently though, I’ve become disillusioned with much of the travel content around Black history month for several reasons. First, I noticed that what was defined as “Black history” seemed to be centered on only two eras within the wide and varied four century history of African-Americans: enslavement and the Civil Rights movement. The same thing applied to geography. Every time I saw a Black history travel story centered in the deep south, or perhaps one that tracked destinations outside of the south along the Underground Railroad, I wanted to SCREAM. It made me feel like Black history month and Black travel was always an afterthought and a scramble to get something published but with no real care behind the storytelling.

As you can see from the articles I linked above, I was part of the problem. Part of it was due to the fact that there truly were some lesser known places I wanted to shine a light on as a part of a round up, but mostly it was due to losing arguments with editors who wanted to focus on the same general story of suffering-turned-resilience. Whether that be due to laziness or a desire for SEO-driven clicks, I don’t know, but the experience was really starting to get on my nerves and was a huge reason why I started this newsletter. I wanted to tell both Black history and Black present travel stories without anyone telling me that the subject matter wasn’t important enough to their audience or “not a travel story”.

This past December, I had every intention of writing Black culture related travel stories this year for my media clients, but in a different way. After the most recent election results and watching corporations rolling back their DEI efforts left and right, I was fucking sick of America. As someone who is working to build a brand to help Black American travelers feel safe anywhere they go in their OWN country, I started to think that perhaps my journalism for these outlets with major audiences should focus on the Black Americans who no longer felt like America was for them. I pitched story after story about Black American communities abroad, people who had chosen to follow in the footsteps of ancestors like James Baldwin and Audre Lorde who moved abroad either permanently or temporarily to countries including France, Mexico and Ghana. No one was interested. I was told it either wasn’t a “travel” story or didn’t fit within their editorial line up for Black history month.

After giving up on trying to find a home for that idea, I decided to shift my focus back to this wretched country that I begrudgingly love and will continually try to make better for those after me. I came across this Bloomberg article featuring my friend and executive director at the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund, Brent Leggs, who so accurately expressed my frustration with how American society tends to view Black history month as a whole.

“Sometimes we stereotypically define the Black experience with regards to slavery and civil rights, but there are spaces that celebrate and uplift the Black middle-class experience that are lesser known,” says Leggs.

“It’s not just Black people who need to be introduced to the complexity and beauty of our own contributions to our national history. It’s also all other Americans.”

For now, I will continue to be one of those Black Americans that tries to introduce the complexity and beauty of our own contributions to both our national history and our present. I’m committed to resisting the stereotype in my storytelling that every Black American life over the past four centuries is or was about a struggle. Now, more than ever, I feel more committed to my goal of making people witness Black joy and understand that Black Americans have touched every corner of the United States and we are still here. We aren’t going anywhere.

I now understand to the core of my bones that niche travel will grow, especially travel offerings and content created for and by Black Americans. Now is not the time to run elsewhere (although I don’t blame you if you do), and to be realistic, most people can’t leave America as easily as they think they can. Instead, I believe now is when we dig our heels in even deeper to this land that is stained with our blood, sweat and tears. Now is when we become even more conscious of how and where we spend our dollars when it comes to our travels, and I hope guides like my recent Black Travel Guide to Seattle can be a resource to help you support businesses who align with your values.

In the meantime, I’ve prepared a list of five of my favorite Black history-meets-present sites across America that you may have never heard of. What I mean by history-meets-present is that while these places may have reached a zenith decades ago, they currently still exist and can be experienced interactively in the present. You won’t feel like you’re walking through a museum in these places, instead you’ll feel the vibrancy of their past and be inspired by their new iterations today.

• James Weldon Johnson’s writing cabin, Great Barrington, MA - I was fortunate enough to visit the Berkshires writing cabin of renaissance man James Weldon Johnson, as part of my fellowship with the National Trust, and write about it. The cabin isn’t quite open to the public yet but will be this summer. Check out the foundation to stay updated.

• Mutual Musicians Foundation, Kansas City, MO - Established in 1917, this was the home to one of the first African-American music unions in the country, welcoming Black musicians during a time when they weren’t welcome to play most at most clubs and lounges. The tradition of jam sessions among musicians on Fridays and Saturday nights has gone strong since 1930, but be warned, things don’t really get hopping until about 2 am. I visited a few years ago and stayed until 5 am and was completely delirious, but happy.

• Karamu House, Cleveland, Ohio - I’m a big fan of live theater, so it was such an honor to visit Karamu House a few years ago, the oldest theater producing African American works in the nation. It was founded as a settlement house dedicated to the arts in 1915 by a Jewish couple, and by the 1920s attracted tons of Black artists, including Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston and Lorraine Hansberry. Langston Hughes premiered Black Nativity here in 1961.

• *Eldorado Ballroom - Houston, TX - I became aware of the Eldorado after they received a grant from the African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund in 2022. It was a famed nightclub once listed as a “must visit” place in the Green Book, deep in the heart of the Third Ward, Houston’s historic Black neighborhood. Project Row Houses, an excellent example of community-driven historic preservation and restoration, was gifted the ballroom in 2003 and has worked steadily to restore it to its full grandeur. It reopened in March 2023 with a cafe, art gallery and market on the ground floor, and live music and dancing on the second floor.

• *Wilfandel Club - Los Angeles, CA - I adore the story of the Wilfandel Club and can’t wait to walk its beautiful hardwood floors one day. I wrote about this historic women’s club for Veranda magazine a few years ago, and there are tons more details in that article, but long story short, in 1945 two Black pioneering women gathered 50 friends to raise $10,000 to buy a mansion to host weddings, baby showers, dinners and other gatherings they weren’t allowed to have in most venues in segregated Los Angeles. Club members still own the beautiful home and will be celebrating 80 years of service and community this year.

*I have not visited this site but I plan to in the near future

Alright rant done. How do you feel about how Black history month has or has not been celebrated in the travel space this year? Have you seen any interesting Black travel stories lately? Or are you like me and still riding high from Kendrick Lamar’s super bowl halftime show and DGAF what anyone else is talkin’ bout? yea, same.

Housekeeping note: If you want to read my next Black Travel guide, now is the time to become a paid subscriber! I’m happy to announce that the next guide will be a Black Travel Guide to Asheville, North Carolina.

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Now on that inspiring pro-Black note, let’s get into the first ever Black travel guide from The Road We Trod!

Confession: I fell in love with the idea of Seattle because I am a massive Frasier fan. Yes, the uber-white (I’'ll be the first to admit the show didn’t age well), highbrow comedy from the 90s. So many people are probably turned off by the premise of following the life of a therapist who returns home to Seattle, but I swear to you that I have spent many, many hours laughing out loud to the excellent writing that still gets to me after seeing each episode dozens of times.

That said, when my partner and I decided we wanted to visit Seattle for his birthday, it was my first trip there in over 20 years (way before my Frasier infatuation) and I was determined to experience the side of the city I never saw on the show. I also believe there tends to be this misconception that there are no Black people in the Pacific Northwest. Lies, we everywhere! Though the region isn’t widely associated with the Great Migration, Seattle was very much a part of it, with more than 10,000 Black folks moving to the Emerald city in the 1940s, during and post-World War Two. Thriving Black, middle-class communities existed in the Central District, with many Black families ending up there due to segregation and redlining policies. Although those same policies have led to the Central District not being a predominately Black neighborhood anymore, Black-owned businesses and cultural institutions now thrive across the city.

Below, The Road We Trod’s Black Travel Guide to Seattle. With videos!

*Note, this is not a comprehensive list, but covers the places I personally have visited.*

P.S. Interested in more Black travel guides in the future? Please consider becoming a paid subscriber, where you’ll receive one Black travel city guide per month. For now, enjoy this freebie!

Restaurants/Coffee/Drinks

• Boon Boona Coffee - Seattle is known as a coffee city, particularly as home of the first Starbucks, but there are so many amazing and hyper-local coffee brands to try instead. My vote is for Black-owned Boon Boona Coffee in the Capitol Hill neighborhood, where all the coffee is exclusively sourced from African nations including Ethiopia, Rwanda, Burundi, Kenya. Though coffee has become colonized, its worldwide origins are in Ethiopia, and I love that Boon Boona’s Eritrean founder, Efram Fesaha, is cultivating a space where traditional coffee ceremonies are celebrated.

• Communion - Dining at Communion felt like being welcomed into the home of an old friend. Everything about it was so US. From the R&B music, to the predominately POC staff, to the laughter coming from all of the tables, Chef Kristi Brown and her son Damon have created one of the warmest restaurants I’ve experienced in a long time. I was especially touched by the altar to the ancestors lovingly tucked away near the kitchen filled with framed photos. The menu changes regularly (not a single thing we ate is on the current menu lol), but the waitstaff makes excellent suggestions if you can’t choose.

• Jackson’s Catfish Corner - I never would have expected fried catfish as good as what we had at Jackson’s outside of the deep south. Now I know that’s not fair but it is what it is lol. The catfish strips at this family-owned restaurant were crispy and perfectly seasoned and paired so well with the mayo-light coleslaw. If you want the snapper strips, definitely call ahead because we were so bummed when they were sold out, but the team made up for it by giving us extra shrimp. I still dream about the hushpuppies.

  

• Métier Brewing - Ya’ll know I don’t drink, but Chris is a craft beer fan and has even made his own brews. The beer industry is incredibly white, so Chris goes out of his way to support Black-owned breweries whenever he can and I’m all for that. We had a lovely talk with co-owner Rodney Hines about the community he has built, while relaxing at their flagship taproom on Cherry Street. Chris enjoyed a flight of four beers, but the Central Calling IPA was his fave.

Things to do

• WOW Gallery - My friends Veronica Very and Hiawatha Davis have created an oasis and love letter to Black women in their WOW gallery. Standing for “Wonder of Women,” their sacred space is filled with beautiful portraits of inspiring Black women across generations (like Zora Neale Hurston, Beyonce and Simone Biles), all painted by Hiawatha. I met the glowing couple one summer in Martha’s Vineyard and immediately bonded with them as they shared readings from Veronica’s book Dear Sista, a book filled with such affirming and loving words specifically for Black women that brought me to tears. WOW gallery is luxurious, healing and the truest definition of a safe space. It’s a must-visit in Seattle.

  

• Noir Lux Candle Bar - Chris definitely gave me a side eye when I told him we were going to be making candles but this experience was SO fun! Born out of covid and a desire to stay connected with her friends during isolation, founder Colina Bruce, started sending her friends care packages with candles she made at home. A business was born! Now she and her team host pouring sessions at their fab studio with dozens of scents to choose from, or you can snag candles online.

Cultural Institutions

• Northwest African American Museum - There were Black pioneers. Like, Oregon Trail pioneers! WHY ISN’T THIS IN HISTORY BOOKS?! Black pioneer George Washington Bush (what a name lol) is just one of the fascinating people we learned about at the NAAM, a museum housed in a former school that was once occupied by Black activists who were determined to make the building a Black history museum. There were exhibits on famed artist Jacob Lawrence and other notable Black Northwesterners like Jimi Hendrix and Quincy Jones, but my favorite sections talked about all of the regular Black folks who made a way out of no way, building both thriving Black middle class communities and Black Panther chapters in cities like Portland, Seattle and Tacoma.

• Jimi Hendrix Park - Don’t miss this sculpture park right outside of the NAAM, where you’ll find quotes from Hendrix’s songs inscribed in the sidewalk alongside metal cut outs of his silhouette, guitars and his portrait.

  

• Lenny Wilkens Way - If you’re an NBA fan (and even if you’re not), take a moment to stop by Climate Change arena where the Seattle Sonics once played and snap a photo by the Lenny Wilkens Way sign, dedicated to the third winningest coach in the NBA and a NBA hall of famer as both a coach and a player. He was also one of my Dad’s best friends and it was such a joy to get to see Uncle Lenny while we were in town 🤍

Other Seattle must dos

We’re not going to pretend like you’re going to ONLY do Black-owned things in Seattle and that’s ok! There are some bucket list items you’ve just got to see. The first is Pike Place Market, and lucky for you, they’ve put together a list of Black-owned businesses at the market. In my own experience there, Le Panier had the best almond croissant I’ve had outside of France. The second place you must see is the Space Needle, but be warned that timed tickets mean nothing. We had timed entry tickets but we still ended up waiting in line for over an hour to get to the top. The experience above is worth the wait though, and there are clear benches you can stand on to get epic photos. Finally, the Chihuly Garden and Glass museum needs to be seen to be believed. I have never seen so many incredible sculptures made from colorful glass, it was otherworldly!

I hope you enjoyed this guide and please let me know if you visit Seattle and take my suggestions! Moving forward, Black travel guides will only be available to paid subscribers so please consider upgrading! See y’all soon.

It may sound dramatic, but I firmly believe that if I were to drink again, it would be the end of my life as I know it. My drinking was cute and fun until it wasn’t, turning into something dark and self-destructive and scaring the shit out of the people closest to me. Removing alcohol from my life was one of the scariest decisions I’ve ever made, yet it turned out to be one of the bravest and most loving thing I’ve done for myself. Being sober has given me a life I never could have imagined, filled with people who loved me until I learned how to love myself.

Now I’m not saying that quitting drinking has to be a complete lifestyle change for you; it can just be something you do one day at a time until January 31. That said, even in 31 days, you are sure to come up against some scenarios you’ve never experienced as a newly minted non-drinker and I’m here to help. Here are a few lessons I’ve learned navigating this world as a sober person.

You don’t owe anyone an explanation

Usually when someone offers you a drink and you order something non-alcoholic, most people don’t bat an eye, but those who may be startled at first quickly get over it. When I get a why don’t you drink anymore? I simply say “I used to drink, but now I don’t.” If I’m feeling a little spicy because someone is too inquisitive, I say I stopped for health reasons. That usually shuts them right up. The bottom line is that “no, thank you” is a full sentence.

In social situations, focus on connection

I truly don’t believe that most people understand how much drinking is a part of their lifestyle. Think about it, when’s the last time you went on a date and didn’t have a drink? Watched a sporting event? Attended a concert? Had dinner in a restaurant? Removing this crutch can be jarring and make you feel awkward and uncomfortable, but I promise it’s only temporary. When I attend a social gathering and feel nervous, I look for the one person who seems more uncomfortable than I am and then try to talk to them. Helping to put them at ease gets me out of my own head, lifts my mood and helps me forget all about that desire for “liquid courage”.

Explore new means of relaxation

So many of us are accustomed to having a drink to take the edge off, and LAWD are we about to have a sharp and edgy next four years 😑. Dry January is a wonderful time to explore different activities that feel relaxing to you, especially after a hard day at work or falling into doom scrolling. When I quit drinking, I learned that I loved a quick youtube yoga class to unwind, doing puzzles, journaling, having an impromptu solo dance party, cooking delicious recipes and even cleaning to calm my nerves. I also encourage you to explore the things that don’t fit in the traditional relaxation category. For example, I learned I love ironing to relax! *we listen and we don’t judge*

When traveling, be accountable to yourself

Y’all know I had to bring it back to travel in some way 😏 I’ll be honest, in my first few months of not drinking, traveling was when I felt the weakest. I still find myself longingly looking at an airport bar every once in a while. There was always an allure to being that cool traveler with a glass of wine and a book on a long layover, or even throwing all of my hard earned sobriety out of the window once I got to a new destination. What is it about traveling that makes you want to be a different person?? Anyway, I soon realized this glamorization of drinking while in the skies was dangerous, and I learned to find other ways to occupy my time in the airport and when on a trip. I now bring books, download netflix episodes and listen to audiobooks on long layovers, and before a trip I look up the activities I want to engage in once I get to my destination and remind myself that I don’t want to waste any time being hungover. It did so much for my self-worth to make promises to myself when it came to my sobriety, and be able to keep them no matter where I was in the world.

Find new ways to celebrate

When I was in college, I lived by the phrase “win or lose, we still booze”. Now that I’m sober, I’ve had to learn not only ways to cope with not drinking when I was upset, but also how to redefine what celebration looks like to me. Instead of clinking glasses of champagne, I’m clinking flutes of ginger beer, or doing something completely unrelated to food and drink. I’ve had celebratory nights at the ballet, rounds of Top Golf and trips to the spa with my friends or solo dolo.

Always have an escape plan

When I stopped drinking in 2011, ride shares weren’t really a thing so I quickly learned that when I wanted to go to a party, I needed a way to get back home when I was ready to go. So much of my drinking was tied to boredom, and the last thing I wanted was to feel trapped at a party and end up drinking simply because there was no other way to pass the time. Now I pretty much drive myself everywhere or have uber at the ready when it’s time to bounce.

Ask for the mocktail menu

That first vacation or trip out to dinner after you quit drinking can be ROUGH. Fortunately, so many restaurants and resorts now offer either zero-proof menus, or two or three mocktails on the cocktail menu for those that don’t drink alcohol. If you’re somewhere that doesn’t offer this, ask your waiter or the bartender if they can whip up a mocktail for you. In my experience, they love the challenge of getting to play with different flavor profiles and you won’t be forced to order from the kiddie menu.

In conclusion, after being a hater, I’m SO excited for those of you doing Dry January this year. My biggest piece of advice is to look at this next month as an opportunity to add so many wonderful new experiences to your life instead of focusing on what you may be missing. Also know that some of the things you will be missing are: hangovers, anxiety, sluggishness, sleepless nights and hazy memories. You will be gaining: time to do the things you love, health benefits like potentially lower blood sugar, restful sleep and a new sense of curiosity about your own life. You can do this! I’ll be cheering you along the entire way.

If you want to know more about my personal experience with alcoholism, recovery and the effect of alcoholism on Black women, read this.

This is a conversation space exclusively for subscribers—kind of like a group chat or live hangout. I’ll post questions and updates that come my way, and you can jump into the discussion. I’d love for you to join me here so I can be sure to create the sort of travel content you’d like to see for 2025 and beyond.

I recently inquired about the destinations you’d like to see Black travel guides for next year, with a focus on domestic cities and towns. I got so many wonderful suggestions and would love to keep the conversation flowing! Looking forward to hearing from you all.

In the meantime, I hope you have a wonderful holiday season filled with rest, great food and time spent with loved ones.

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That said, you won’t have any buyers remorse with the following ten items. As I saw all the gift guides publishing on Substack last week, I spent some time thinking about what I could offer that would provide value to you all, and still relate to what this newsletter is all about: helping Black folks feel comfortable wherever they choose to travel. Feeling comfortable to me means of course feeling welcome, but it can also mean having the right items with you that you know as a Black person you aren’t going to find where you’re going (I can honestly say I have NEVER used a bottle of hotel shampoo, we know that stuff’s not meant for Black hair). SO! Here are ten Black-owned travel products I’ve either picked up on a trip, or plan to try on future trips. BTW, this is not sponsored, I just love these things.

The Road We Trod Subscription
*Practicing being my own biggest hypewoman* Obviously one of the best gifts for the traveler in your life, especially if they happen to be Black, is a paid subscription to The Road We Trod, where they will find loads of travel advice and inspiration written through the Black gaze, plus other random musings on current Black culture. Check out my travel recommendations in Memphis, the favorite travel spots of our historic Black icons, and my most viewed post to date — my reflections on the 2024 election.

Cxffeeblack Travel Mug - currently part of a bundle here
I will never give up coffee, get somebody else to do it. I love everything about it — the smell, the taste, the ritual of making it. I prefer to have it by my side every day before noon, so my house is full of travel thermoses, yet this is the one I use again and again because of the message on it. Nothing gives me more joy than sipping my coffee as I watch someone read what it says. Usually I wink at them when I see the light bulb go off. I picked it up in Memphis at the Anti-Gentrification Cxffee Club, a community hub-meets-coffee shop by Cxffeeblack coffee company. Read more about them here.

Sunday II Sunday On the Go Hair Kit
Full transparency, I can’t really tell if this company is still in business lol. They haven’t posted on social in a while and don’t have any products listed for sale on their website, but they are still selling at Target, Ulta and Sephora. So yay! Anyway, working out while traveling helps me feel sane and grounded, so I swear by this hair care travel kit specifically targeted to help refresh textured hair and a sweaty scalp post-workout. I especially love the root refresh micellar spray.

Noir Lux Candle Bar Discovery Set
I recently attended a candle making workshop at this Black-owned candle company in Seattle and it was vibes. Everything from the names of the scents to the candle containers was so thoughtful and US. I also like taking a small candle with me on the road to cozy up a hotel room (please use responsibly!) and this Discovery Set of 2 o.z. candles is the perfect travel companion. I’m partial to the “Smells like Seattle” Spring collection.

Organic Bath Body Butter Discovery Set
It’s rare that I find a hotel lotion worthy of being applied to my body, so I tend to bring my own because the watered down mess I usually come across is just not going to work. I’ve had my eye on these travel-friendly body butters made with organic shea butter, jojoba and almond oils from this Black-owned small biz to keep the ashiness at bay when I’m on the road. I’ll be snagging a set for 2025.

Grace Eleyae Satin-Lined Headwear
I’ve been a long-time supporter of this satin-lined headwear brand, back when the first version of slouchy hats were called “the slap”. The brand has evolved to include straw hats, baseball hats, turbans and more, all satin-lined to protect textured hair. I love traveling with the turbans and throwing one on when my hair needs a break, but I also still need to look chic. I also wear them on planes to prevent my hair from drying out.

Beach House Beach Towels
I am not a fan of terry cloth beach towels, especially when they get all soggy and feel like they weight 20lbs in my beach bag. I’ve got my eye on these thin Turkish towels for next summer, made by a very cute couple based in Brooklyn. I love that they’re functional, but also super chic with a straightforward, unbusy design that could potentially work as a swimsuit cover up. I’ve got my eye on the Rotterdam, Puerto Rico and Porto towels (once it’s back in stock).

You Go Natural Swim Turban
How many of us have been personally victimized by ocean or pool water because our hair wasn’t braided? *raises hand 😭* I am soooooo tired of limiting my activity around water based on how my hair is styled, so I plan to invest in one of these swim turbans specifically designed for natural hair. I can’t wait to dive into the ocean with a cute turban that matches my bikini.

Garden24 by Morgan Harper Nichols journal
I fell hard for the beautiful artwork and inspiring quotes of artist Morgan Harper Nichols on social media a few years ago, and as someone who has regularly kept a journal for the past 13 years, I was so happy when she released a collection of journals. It’s always fun to look back at what was on my mind while on my travels, and journaling is a great way to keep memories and experiences fresh.

WNDR LN packing cubes
How did I pack for a trip before packing cubes existed? Keeping my underwear separate from my gym clothes separate from my evening attire scratches an organizational itch in my brain. My favorite germaphobe aspect of packing cubes is also keeping my shoes separate from my clothes, and my dirty clothes away from other items in my suitcase when I’m headed home. I love the tribal print design of these cubes from WNDR LN, a Black-owned travel company founded by Tina Wells.

Happy gifting! Or gifting to yourself!

Now that we’ve gotten some of our rage out, it’s back to regularly scheduled programming…sort of. I would say that it’s regularly scheduled in the sense that at the end of October I attended a travel conference produced by the American Indian Alaska Native Tourism Association (AIANTA) and knew I would want to share the experience with you all. Held this year in Marksville, Louisiana and hosted by the Tunica-Biloxi Tribe, the conference showcases all the latest offerings in Native American tourism, and is also a business-minded conference to help those tribes who are earlier in their journey of creating tourism experiences for visitors. The general theme of the conference was “We Are Still Here,” an unofficial motto adopted by the organization to remind people that Native Americans are very much still here, regardless of what your history books, the media or anyone else may tell you.

I was so honored to be invited by the organization to attend, and I was specifically interested in Native tourism offerings outside of the west, as there is a global-wide perception that Native Americans only live in states like Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Montana. Of course, this is untrue, as the entire country of the United States of America is Native land. There are 574 federally recognized tribes in the U.S., alongside state-recognized tribes and Native Hawaiian tribes. If you are based in the U.S., wherever you are, there is a native tribe near you.

As November is Native American Heritage month (which feels so passive aggressive because why would you put Native American Heritage month during the same month as Thanksgiving, ugh), I feel like now is a great time for me to share some resources to help you plan your 2025 trips around Native travel experiences, as well as share some specifics around some experiences I learned about at the conference.

Resources

• First things first, before you go anywhere, please know how to act! This story from Conde Nast Traveler about how to be respectful visitor on native lands is a fantastic guide.

• NativeAmerica.Travel is a website created by AIANTA that breaks down Native cultural experiences and events by geography, and features a variety of travel itineraries to follow and in-depth features on Native-owned businesses and tours.

Non-western Native Travel Experiences

As a disclaimer, these are the experiences I learned about that I’m most excited about. They are in no way meant to minimize other Native travel experiences elsewhere!

• As someone who has family based in Louisiana and has traveled there my entire life, I had no idea of the Native American tribes in Louisiana. I was so impressed by the cultural offerings of the Tunica-Biloxi Tribe of Louisiana, and although I wouldn’t say you could plan an entire trip around just the tribal experiences, they are definitely worth a day trip from bigger cities like Lafayette or Alexandria. We visited the beautiful Tunica-Biloxi Cultural and Educational Resources Center, which houses a library, gift shop, classrooms and museum full of formerly stolen cultural artifacts known as the “Tunica Treasure”. Please click the link to read about it because the story about the literal grave robber who stole these priceless items is INSANE. We also visited their Pow Wow grounds, and the tribe also owns the Paragon Casino Resort and although I’m not a gambling girly, if that’s your thing, it’s there! There is also a burial mounds site that the tribe is working to share with the public eventually but it’s still a work in progress. Read more about that here.
  

• Very high on my 2025 travel list is a visit to the Mashantucket Pequot Tribal Nation located in southeastern Connecticut. This nation is located on one of the oldest Indian reservations in the country, and they are pioneers of the Indian gaming industry as owners of Foxwoods Resort Casino. This tribal nation has truly created their own economy of hospitality businesses, healthcare and cultural experiences to benefit their future generations and I find that to be so incredibly inspiring. I can’t wait to visit the Pequot Museum & Research Center, an enormous complex of exhibits and galleries detailing the history of the Pequot people since the Ice Age.
  

• As someone raised in Virginia who has visited Colonial Williamsburg by my own volition and against my will (lol), I was disturbed to learn that the tourism area didn’t incorporate Native American culture in their presentations and storytelling until 2002. Like, what? The region where British colonizers first made contact with Algonquin and Powhatan tribes in nearby Jamestown back in 1607 weren’t a part of the story until 2002? Mmmmk. To clarify, Colonial Williamsburg as a living history museum wasn’t established until the late 1920s, but the folks behind it were determined to tell a very specific, very white story. In all my visits, I have never experienced what is referred to as “The American Indian Experience,” and I feel like it would be healing to my childhood memories to do so. I'm particularly interested in the cultural offerings available outside of Native American heritage month, as their contributions to the region are just as important (arguably more so) than the colonizers.

  
  I hope this helps you plans some of your trips for 2025! As we head into next year, I will continue providing specific travel guidance, with a focus on Black-owned experiences and Black culture across the U.S. That said, these Black travel guides will now be exclusive to paid subscribers, so if this is of interest to you, please consider upgrading your subscription! Here’s a hint: the next guide will be to the Emerald City 😊

  P.S. What did you all think of videos vs photos in this post? It’s something I’m experimenting with and would love your feedback!

I’ve seen a lot of heartbreak and despair over the last 36 hours, but that’s not where I am at all. I’m unsurprised, I’m focused and most of all I am rageful. This election cycle has given me a level of clarity I can only appreciate and be grateful for. And now that I have that clarity, my rage is driving it.

Rage seems to be working out for people. Over the past eight years, the media and social commentators have focused on white rage. There’s even an entire book about it that I won’t be linking to. The gist is that the fear and rage that many white people are experiencing after coming to the reality that they will soon be a minority is driving a major pushback against anyone non-white. All of a sudden their gaslight conversations to people of color about being a minority being “not so bad” actually is that bad. They are determined to “take their country back” from apparently the boogie monster minority. Back to a time of white power which they so obviously see represented by he who shall not be named. Why are we so focused on their rage and what it produces? When, as Black people, will we focus on our own rage? When we will lean into it? Since they want something to fear, maybe it’s time to give it to them.

After all the work Black women have done to try to save this country from itself, I’ve decided I don’t give a fuck about white rage anymore. I am wholeheartedly invested in my own rage. I am using it to pour into the communities I know well and that I trust. Does this mean that I’m solely focusing on Black communities? No. This election has also made it abundantly clear that the infatuation with white supremacy is not restricted to white people. 46% of Latinos voted for cheeto satan. The same Latinos he wants to deport and invited someone to speak at his rally who referred to their ancestral homelands as a floating island of trash. People seem to be so flummoxed by this but I’m not. Why? Because white supremacy. White presenting Latinos believe they will be safe from his policies, while others believe that because their parents or grandparents immigrated “the right way,” borders should be shut to everyone else no matter how desperate their situation. I liken to people who have paid off their student loans who are pissed at those who got their loans forgiven. Total crabs in a barrel mentality.

Then there are the 21% of Black men who voted for someone who would throw them all in jail if he could. The misogynoir in our community runs so deep I can’t even get into it here. Combine that with the house vs. field slave mentality (y’all know EXACTLY what I’m talking about) and I fear, they are lost. These are just a few reasons why I am pissed and why I’m vetting my own communities with a close eye. At this point, Black women are the only ones I trust. If this offends you, it’s probably time to move along. Any one of any race who has been mildly present in the last 24 hours can understand why I am saying this.

So, what does leaning into my Black rage mean for me in a realistic way? A few things. First, don’t call me a person of color or say that I am BIPOC. Clearly we are not all the same and do not have shared interests. I am a BLACK woman and essentially only care about things that benefit us. Second, my work will continue. I have never been more clear about why I am here and what I am here to do. I will continue telling the stories of Black people, with a tighter focus on Black women around this country. I will continue working hard to make this country safer for us because we are more American than anyone else in this bitch (beside Native Americans). Finally, don’t expect me to hold my tongue anymore. My rage won’t be emotional. It will be cold, strategic and laser-focused (shout out to my Scorpio moon-gang).

I close with these words to live by:

Negroes,
Sweet and docile,
Meek, humble and kind:
Beware the day
They change their mind.

- Langston Hughes

I’ve obviously struggled with the ability to work at all through my grief, but also been filled with anxiety and self-doubt over how to make the transition in this newsletter from something so heavy and personal to writing about travel again. After much deliberation, I’ve decided I’m just going to write what I want to write and those that want to stick with me will stick with me and those who don’t, well that’s fine. One gift from the experience of losing my father is so much clarity. I truly no longer care about what anyone wants from me if it’s not in alignment with what I want from and for myself. I think my Pops would be very proud of me for that.

So, about travel. I spent the most difficult summer of my life traveling quite a bit. Pretty much all of it was family travel and to be completely honest, it was incredibly draining. I love my family immensely and many of these trips were planned around family events that I couldn’t skip, but frankly after two MASSIVE changes in my life (I also moved in with my partner in June) I felt like these trips resulted in me subconsciously distracting myself and running from my feelings. Running from my feelings caused anxiety attacks (feeling like everyone around me was going to suddenly die), oversized anger reactions (hellooooo grief!) and of course, depression during a time when I’m usually already depressed. Yes, I am one of the folks that absolutely hates summertime and experiences seasonal depression during the summer like clockwork. I’m surprised I didn’t have a complete breakdown.

Although it was hard, I had some joyful moments during these travels. A couple days after my father’s memorial service, I had a too short but wonderful solo trip to Urban Cowboy in the Catskills for some much needed alone time surrounded by nature. Then there was a family trip to Martha’s Vineyard in August where we had a beautiful family photoshoot experience that I will cherish for the rest of my life. My mom, aunties and I also went to see The Wiz on Broadway where I laughed, cried and danced in my seat. It was one of the most talented casts I’ve ever seen. Anyway, all that activity brings me to Maine.

Did I know Maine was the whitest state in the United States before I booked a trip there? No. Could I have guessed? Maybe? But honestly, I think there are like 5 different states that could battle it out for that title. I just was in desperate need of solitude among nature somewhere that wasn’t 80+ degrees. Maine has also been on my list to visit for a while, so color me surprised when my Mom expressed concerns about me visiting “that part of the country”. This, from a woman raised in the deep south, who was concerned about me visiting the northeast. But in my experience, she’s right. The first time I was called the n-word was by someone from New Hampshire, and the second time it happened, I was in Boston. From what I’ve seen, so many northerners have a weird, racist fantasy about the south, and are quick to express their white supremacy. The sentiment is better expressed in this article that I helped edit a few years ago from a writer who noticed this trend among her fellow white folks lol.

I am happy to say I didn’t fully have this experience in Maine, but it was still…weird. I only spent a few hours in Portland before spending a few days in the gorgeous Wren cabin in a small town called Bridgton in Maine’s Lakes Region, but I could tell that the city was very liberal. It’s a port town so I was happily surprised to see many Black people taking in the sites, but it was clear they were visiting as a part of a cruise stop. The liberal aspect more-so showed up in a white gay way, which also made me feel comfortable as a Black woman traveling alone but didn’t necessarily make me feel a part of. There were rainbow flags and Black Lives Matter signs everywhere but I feel like it’s really easy to post a sign when there aren’t any Black people for you to share space with. There also were interesting markers of the “Portland Freedom Trail” which highlights the city’s abolitionist history, but that history didn’t seem to affect the lack of the Portland’s Blackness today.

I could sense that the liberal mindset was shared among pretty much everyone in town under 40, but as I came across some older residents there was an iciness in our exchanges I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Were they not personable because northerners tend to be less personable (my bf is from NY and says this is true so don’t come for me)? Or did it have something to do with my race? Ahh yes, that second guessing that Black travelers always have to do anytime we have an unsavory experience with another human. How exhausting.

When I got to Bridgton, a small town, my experience was similar. I went there for alone time so I didn’t care about making friends, but it was such a strange experience for me to so easily be identified as an outsider. I spent some time on the road and yes, I saw a few Trump signs (and in one case an entire barn painted with the MAGA slogan…like why, girl?) and one confederate flag, but the ratio of Harris to Trump signs was about 5:1. In Bridgton I struggled to maintain a conversation with people at first (which I always initiated) but then, in one case where I tried to strike up a convo with a bartender, I noticed he wasn’t really talking to a white couple at the bar either. After a couple days of this, I decided not to take anything personally and enjoy my access to all the lobster I could eat, gorgeous lakes, and the silence that my cabin offered me to work on the outline for a book idea.

And then…on my last day everything changed. I planned to spend all day hibernating in my cabin, but at the last minute I decided to go into town to check out a local bookstore, one of my favorite things to do in a new place. After some perusing, I persistently talked to the owner and not only did he share that his son now lives in my hometown of Arlington, VA, we found out we both love the same book series-turned-tv show (Bosch by Michael Connelly for anyone interested). Feeling heartened, I then went next door to an antique shop where the owners had a basket of vintage political campaign pins, something my mom collects. Of all the pins there are to exist, they had several from the George McGovern presidential campaign, a campaign my Dad was a significant part of. Clearly this was a little wink from my Papa, a man who knew how to strike up a conversation with and steal the heart of pretty much anyone.

Finding this pin led to a conversation with the couple that owned the shop. The co-owner and I cried over losing and missing our Dads, then had a wonderful conversation about politics, American geography, the history of the Bridgton, Stephen King and why the hell DC experiences taxation without representation. I ended my afternoon careening into a seafood market to snag the last lobster roll of the day. So, what’s the point of me recounting all of this to you all? I’m not sure. I think what I wanted to share is that my grief led me to a destination that perhaps in another scenario I wouldn’t have visited and in some ways, it fed into my fear about being a Black traveler in certain parts of America. At the same time, I got what I always get when I travel outside of my comfort zone: a better understanding of myself, a stronger connection with my intuition and deeper connection with the humans around me.

Have you been to Maine? Where did you go and what was your experience? Would you go back? Also, where did you travel this summer? I’ve got a ton of trips lined up for the fall, my favorite season, so I hope to be more in touch on a regular basis. Love to you all.

Shayla

Where I went: Maine edition

Portland

• Highroller Lobster Company (the lobster corn dog is a must!)

• The Maine Souvenir Shop

• Portland Freedom Trail

• Bard Coffee

Bridgton

• Naramissic Farm

• Ancora Italian Kitchen

• Salmon Point Beach

• Standard Gastropub

• Maine Lobster Express

• Bridgton Books

• Bridgton Antiques

In the weeks since his transition, grief has absolutely kicked my ass. I’ve been in complete survival mode, trying to allow myself to succumb to my total devastation over losing one of my very best friends. I’ve been simultaneously flooded with memories and panic over not remembering what it feels like to hug my Dad or to hold his hand. This experience has been equal parts beautiful and terrible. But as I’ve said over and over in my brain and at his eulogy, if what I’m feeling now is the price to pay for loving my Dad and for experiencing his love, then it’s a fair price.

I’ve avoided The Road We Trod for so long for so many reasons, including the fact that my brain felt completely broken for a month, but as I’ve gone through the process of reflecting over and celebrating his life, I finally feel like I’m ready to talk about him here. Part of me feels like I’ve already said so much these last 8 weeks, but also said so little. I will probably never stop running out of things to say about my wonderful father, but for the sake of this newsletter, I’m going to tell you all why he is the inspiration behind it.

My Dad grew up in Montgomery, Alabama as the youngest of seven in the 1940s and 1950s. Although one could argue there has never been a good time to grow up as a Black man in America, these decades were of course particularly dangerous and awful. Thankfully he was part of a tight-knit Black community in Montgomery and grew up firmly middle class, having many advantages a lot of other Black families did not, thanks to my grandfather’s job with the U.S. Railway postal service and role as Grand Secretary with the Prince Hall Masons. For example, during the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955-56, my Dad was one of the few college students whose parents owned a car, so he drove protesters wherever they needed to go during his summer and holiday breaks from school.

It would be poetic for me to say that this pivotal moment in American history was a turning point for him and marked the beginning of his dedication to civil rights…because it did…but I feel like that also makes it sound like he had a choice. I think what people fail to understand about the civil rights movement is that for most Black people, getting involved in the fight to be treated like a human being was not something they just decided to do one day when they were upset by one flashpoint moment. There was no flashpoint. The disrespect, violence and terror was constant. At the time, no one was calling it the “civil rights movement”. Every single day was a life or death battle, yes for things like voting rights and fair treatment, but also for the opportunity to support themselves, raise a family and literally LIVE.

Growing up in this environment shaped everything about my Dad, and having him as my Father crafted an unshakable foundation within myself as a Black woman in America. I was raised by a man who dedicated his life to the advancement of Black people. His friends and contemporaries in Alabama included Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. (who visited my Dad when he was in the military in Paris on his way to Olso to receive his Nobel Peace Prize), Reverend Ralph Abernathy, Reverend C.T. Vivian, Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth and more. They all worked together to fight segregation in Alabama, Georgia and throughout the United States. Then Pops moved into politics, working to register Black voters and support the election of Black candidates to local and state offices in the old Confederacy.

By the time I came along, my Dad had lived a LIFEEEEE honey. He’d had more of a life than most people have in all of their days by the time he was 50. I like to think my Mom and I mellowed him out by the time I was born, but looking back, I’ve realized they just took me on all of their adventures. I’m so inspired by the fact that parenthood didn’t seem to greatly affect their lifestyles at all. I grew up being the only little one at political fundraisers held at our home in Arlington, attending civil rights marches while sitting on my Dad’s shoulders and taking pictures with Rosa Parks. My Dad always reminded me both verbally and by how he lived that I could do and be anything I wanted. He supported all my varying interests, and always welcomed my presence. He taught me all his favorite things: how to cook, how to garden, how to pour into my friendships, how to know and respect Black history, how to keep family traditions, how to gracefully defend myself, how to respect my elders and how to love life.

One of the best gifts my father gave me was his love for exploring the world. Before I was seven years old, my parents had taken me to Hawaii, Mexico, Puerto Rico and all over the United States, usually in a quest for fantastic cuisine. While in the military, he lived in France for three years and became a complete Francophile. While other kids were having ice cream for dessert, I was having brie with sliced baguette. They took me to France for the first time when I was 8 to visit Paris and the champagne region. This early exposure to different cultures, cuisines and people fueled my curiosity about the world and helped me feel comfortable in every room I enter. As an adult, I also think that growing up watching a gregarious, charming Black man travel the world in such comfort, making friends wherever he went, instilled a faith in me that people are inherently good. That we are more alike than we are different.

We went to France and Spain again when I was 14, this time traveling to the shores of Normandy and the Loire Valley to visit friends my parents made while traveling on their honeymoon. Oh, he also spoke fluent French which stunned and delighted everyone we met. He also THOUGHT he spoke Spanish but I can assure you he did not do it well even though everyone we met in Spain adored him for trying. At this point I’m just rambling about my beautiful Father, but what I really want to say is that all of these aspects of who he was (I can’t believe I have to use the past tense) are a direct line into who I am and why I do what I do. His love of travel and getting outside of his comfort zone made him completely comfortable with who he was, and it has done the same for me. His desire to want more and better for the Black community is my same desire, and just like it was for him, this dedication to a freer life for Black people isn’t a choice for me. The only difference I can see is that his fight was for the basic human rights required to live a full life, and my fight is for deep and vibrant joy within that life. The joy that I was lucky enough to watch my father pursue until the very end.

I know to the depths of my soul that my father is proud of me. He read every single one of my stories, asked for daily updates during all my trips (whether he approved of my journeys or not), and constantly told me how much he loved me. I wonder though, if he knew how much all I do is influenced by how fearlessly he lived his life. I pray that he knew how much his love, support and guidance fueled me and so often plucked me out of the waters of self-doubt. If he didn’t know it then, I believe he knows it now. I feel him everywhere and see him whenever I spot a cardinal (which feels so often as of late), a bird we always tried to find when I learned they were the Virginia state bird in second grade lol.

Still…I’m so incredibly sad. I miss him so much and will for the rest of my life, but I feel more inspired than ever to continue my mission of sharing and celebrating Black stories and Black history through travel. I ask for your continued grace during this time as I navigate my grief. I can’t guarantee how often I will publish here, but I can say that every time I am able to sit down and write, I feel better and lighter.

Thank you all for sticking with me thus far and for all the prayers, flowers, and love you’ve sent my way. You have no idea how much your support has sustained me.

With so much gratitude,
Shayla

Take the Survey

Now onto some news. I’m proud to share that I am a 2024 African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund Fellow! The African American Cultural Heritage Action Fund is a program within the National Trust for Historic Preservation dedicated to preserving sites of African American achievement, activism and resilience. I am working with the fund as an editorial fellow to share the often untold and unsung stories of the people and places that expand the story of America. After all, Black history is American history.

The journey to this fellowship began during the winter of 2020 when I started working with Veranda magazine, a lifestyle and interiors publication that also covers preservation. At the time, the magazine had just entered a partnership with the Action Fund to shift their focus of preservation topics from, for example, impeccably preserved castles in Europe to Black history and culture sites in the United States that were in the midst of their preservation efforts. I’m proud to say that the stories we produced together have helped these churches, gravesites, social clubs and nonprofits get the recognition they deserved, and in some cases, helped them meet their fundraising goals. See more of my work with Veranda here.

In my fellowship, I’ll be telling deeper stories about the historic places that have received grants from the fund, as well as the funds larger grant programs like the Preserving Black Churches program and the HBCU (historically Black colleges and universities) Cultural Heritage Stewardship Initiative. Right now though, I want to share with you all three Action Fund site/grantees I’m excited to dig into this year.

YMI Cultural Center - Asheville, North Carolina

I love Asheville and have written about it a bajillion times, but it wasn’t until my last trip there for The New York Times that I felt like I got a glimpse into the soul of the vibrant mountain town. Although today Asheville is a bright blue spot in a fairly red state with fantastic restaurants, artist communities and beautiful architecture, it was in no way immune to the racist policies of America. On my last visit, I got to dig into the until recently hidden history of Asheville’s Black community and the overall theme of Affrilachia - communities of African descent throughout the Appalachian region of America that is widely perceived as majorly white. The hub of Asheville’s former Black district called “The Block” (which was mostly destroyed by racist urban planning policies) was the YMI Cultural Center, one of the oldest Black cultural centers in the United States, founded in 1893. The space was closed for restoration when I visited in the fall of 2022, but I was so excited to see that last year it received a grant from the Action Fund to continue the buildings interior updates. I’ll be first in line when it reopens.

The Brown vs. Board of Education National Historic Park Expansion - Topeka, Kansas and beyond

This year marks the 70th anniversary of the landmark 1954 Supreme Court decision, Brown vs. Board of education, which desegregated American schools. For me, it’s so insane to think about the fact that only one generation ahead of me attended segregated schools, yet many try to make it seem like national segregation was so long ago. It wasn’t. My parents attended segregated schools and probably still felt some nervousness about sending me to school in the 1990s even though schools had been integrated for decades. Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking this decision was like flipping a light switch and all of a sudden all children went to school together with no problems. In fact, I was shocked to learn that the last school to legally desegregate, Cleveland High School in Cleveland, Mississippi, didn’t do so until 2016. 2016! What also is left out of the Brown vs. Board narrative is that a collection of schools across the east coast were a part of the Supreme Court case. In 2022, President Biden signed a law to expand the national historic site beyond Topeka to include additional landmarks in Delaware, DC, Virginia and South Carolina.

Hotel Casa Blanca - Idlewild, Michigan

I’ve been obsessed with the once thriving, all Black lakeside resort community of Idlewild, Michigan for a very long time. Referred to as “Black Eden,” Idlewild was one of the few places where Black families could safely vacation from 1912 until the mid 1960s, during the height of segregation. There were shops, nightclubs, restaurants, lakeside cottages and the crown jewel, Hotel Casa Blanca, which was a hub for political figures, artists, writers and musicians including Duke Ellington and Aretha Franklin. For years I’ve checked in on Idlewild, randomly googling to see if the town, which fell into disrepair after being abandoned after integration, had any sort of resurgence. Thankfully, in 2003, the Idlewild Historic and Cultural Center opened and state funding has been designated for revitalization. Most importantly, three Black women educators, Dr. Ida Short, Ms. Betti Wiggins and Dr. Charlene Austin, are spearheading the restoration of Hotel Casa Blanca, with the assistance of a grant from the Action Fund. I cannot WAIT to plan my trip to Michigan to see it with my own eyes!

As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope the Action Fund’s list of grantees inspires you to plan your summer vacations around this important sites. I know that’s what I’ll be doing and of course, I’ll report back. 😉 Please share this newsletter with all your friends and family as they plan their upcoming travels.

Share The Road We Trod

I also want to use this newsletter to dispel some myths about Black travelers and to provide more resources for those who are eager to hit the slopes. In my opinion, two of the biggest myths about Black people and subsequently, Black travelers, are that we hate the cold and that we don’t engage in snowsports simply because we don’t want to/aren’t interested. I obviously can’t speak for anyone but myself, but anyone who knows me knows that I am firmly Team Cold Weather over nearly any other climate. I’m also happy to report I’m not the only one. From Black celebrities embracing full winter glam while in Aspen, to fabulously luxurious group trips for Black women to Iceland (note: I’ve haven’t attended a Luxe Tribes trip…yet), it’s clear that we love a snowy, cozy vibe.

I also can make the argument that a lack of interest isn’t the reason why Black travelers aren’t hitting the slopes, it’s a lack of access. From equipment rentals/purchases to lift tickets and appropriate ski wear, everything you need to actually get out on the mountain can be very expensive. Not to mention that traveling to the mountains is quite the excursion for us city dwellers. All of that said, there are now organizations specifically created to diversify the industry, both for travelers looking for new experiences and those that may be interested in a new career. I hope one of these groups inspires you to book a late spring ski trip or look ahead to next winter!

NBS - The OGs! Functioning since 1973, NBS has more than 60 ski clubs, probably in a city near you, categorized into four regions. While the activeness of each club varies, you can expect at least two ski trips per year with at least one being a group day trip. Here’s a look at the 2024 ski trips hosted by Black Ski Inc, my local DC chapter, as an example. Each of the four regions also hosts ski trip meetups a few times a year. For those looking to progress to a professional level, NBS also provides scholarships to athletes of color training for Olympic and International winter sports competitions. There are four levels of NBS teams that athletes can apply to.

Women of Winter - This organization is dedicated to creating opportunities for women to become leaders in snowsports, specifically prioritizing Black, Brown, and Indigenous Women of Color - the single most excluded demographic in the snowsports industry. Based in Big Sky, MT, the group sponsors women of color to train for their ski and snowboarding instructors licenses, or American Avalanche Association certifications that focus on safety when skiing in the backcountry.

Mount Noire - This group is for all my non-Americans out there! Mount Noire was founded by five stunning Black Londoners whose mission is to “bring colour to the mountains”. They mean that in all ways. I adore watching them zip down mountains in their brightly colored ski outfits, then have the time of their lives dancing during apres ski on their instagram page. One of my top 2025 goals is to attend their luxe ski trip in Val d’ Isère, France. They also offer ski lessons for those just starting out.

Share Winter Foundation - Share Winter has a different, and in some ways more sustainable model than your average foundation. Instead of simply writing checks, they fund local ski and snowboard programs across the country like schools, clubs, community nonprofits, and departments of recreations for 3 to 5 years to help facilitate growth and effectiveness. So far they’ve helped more than 48,000 kids engage in snowsports, with the goal to reach 100,000.

Hoods to Woods Foundation - Hoods to Woods has a simple mission: to share the wonders of the Great Outdoors with children in underserved communities through snowboarding. Founded by Brian Paupaw and Omar Diaz, who were both raised in the NYC area, they now spend their winter weekends shuttling kids from Brooklyn to upstate New York for snowboarding lessons. The organization provides free programming, equipment and mentorship.

Thank you so much for indulging in my continued winter content as we careen full force into spring (March really acted like it had somewhere to be, didn’t it??). As someone who has a hard time mentally and emotionally during the spring and summer time, a.k.a. reverse seasonal depression, I’ve got some unconventional spring and summer travel content coming up for you all that I’m really excited about. If you also experience Summertime Sadness, please know that you aren’t alone. xx

Hi my friends! Thank you for your patience over the last couple of weeks. Truth be told ya’ll, I’m still processing my time in Big Sky for the National Brotherhood of Snowsports (NBS) summit at the end of February. Seeing so many longstanding ski clubs proudly march through the base of Big Sky mountain with their signs and music (or in one case, the New Orleans-based Jazz-Ma-Tazz ski group tossing out Mardi Gras beads to the crowd) filled me with a joy and, oddly, a sense of relief that I can’t really explain. I’ve never seen so many people who look like they could be my cousins, uncles and aunties (and became them by the end of the week) in a cozy, snowy, mountaintop setting in my life, and then to see the way they absolutely shredded down the mountain turned me into a puddle of tears.

I’m just going to say right now, “PREPARE TO BE SICKA ME,” because there will be two additional newsletters dedicated to my experience at NBS and they fabulous work they do to foster a love of snowsports among both Black children and adults who’ve never had the chance to explore the fun that can be had on the mountain, and separately, the destination of Big Sky.

This was my second visit to Big Sky, Montana and I can honestly say that it’s high on my list of visited places that earns a “why would you want to go there?” reaction. Usually the follow up question is “are there any Black people there?” Frankly, with a Black population of .6% in the entire state of Montana, this is a fair question. But I’ve learned that just because the Black population in a certain place isn’t robust doesn’t mean we’ve never been there or can’t make our presence known now. I can say with near certainty that Big Sky has never seen anything like NBS, and from the moment we landed in Bozeman (about a 45-minute drive from Big Sky) and I saw all of the NBS banners that dotted the Bozeman airport, I knew we’d be welcome.

Now, you’re probably wondering, “what in the world is this headline about?” Well, it’s a lyric from the epic song Black Parade by my Queen Beyonce Giselle Knowles-Carter, and no truer words have been spoken. While some sports like tennis and sprinting allow athletes to showcase their fashionable side (word to Serena Williams), skiing or snowboarding aren’t the first sports that come to mind when you think of sleek, cute outfits. But hmmm could that be because there aren’t as many Black folks that participate in the sport because baaayyybeeeee! I saw some LEWKS on the mountain during NBS, ok! So much so that this newsletter is dedicated to NBS fashions to hopefully inspire your next trip to the mountain. Beyonce truly did say it best: put us any damn where we gon’ make it look CUTE.

Do these ski fits make you want to book a late-season snowy getaway? Check out these mountain destinations where you can still book a ski trip through May.

• Timberline, Oregon - Timberline, near Mt. Hood, boasts the longest ski season in North America, with skiing historically available through the end of May.

• Killington, Vermont - For my east coasters, Killington offers the longest spring ski season out east, often until late May and sometimes even until June.

• Breckenridge, Colorado - Breckenridge can see a ski season stretch until the end of May depending on conditions, but the earliest the ski season will close is late April.

• Banff, Canada - All three of Banff’s ski areas – Sunshine Village, Norquay and Lake Louise – stay open into May, with Norquay and Lake Louise open until the first half of the month and Sunshine normally remains open into the last week. BTW I visited Banff last September and it is BEAUTIFUL.

• Hintertux, Austria - Feeling fancy and don’t want to be limited by the calendar? Hintertux in the Alps is one of only two ski resorts open 365 days a year.