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Thank You, Migos

Thank you, Migos.

 

When I like things I become slightly obsessed with them. For example, I told everyone I was “grown” junior year at Howard because Beyoncé’s “Grown Woman” changed my life. Anytime someone asks what time is it, I’ve recently begun responding with “SHOWTIME” because of Hamilton. And usually, when my friends ask how I’m feeling I respond “hella handsome and abundantly wealthy,” because of Migos.

 

How can you not love Migos? If you don’t get hype when you hear “QUAVO” being shouted and a beat dropping, I don’t trust you. We are not the same if you don’t even pretend to know the words to Fight Night. You are basic and stable if you listen to Handsome and Wealthy and don’t feel motivated to conquer your dreams.

 

So, when I saw Migos’ cameo in Atlanta, I got my life. There are two things that keep me sane. I listen to a lot of music and I watch a lot of TV. As I continue down my path of being black and beautiful, I’ve been able to constantly see and hear things that support me loving my kinky curls and deep skin.

 

My TV schedule was black AF this fall. Tuesday I watched Atlanta, Wednesday I watched Black-ish and Empire, Thursday I watched How to Get Away With Murder, and Sunday I watched Insecure. It was the perfect pairing to my musical selections of going between Lemonade, A Seat at the Table, Travis Greene’s The Hill, The Life of Pablo, and anything Migos, Chance the Rapper, or whatever Kirk Franklin was promoting. I’ve been recently focusing on getting self-care and seeing black people do dope things constantly gives me joy.

 

That’s why I was excited to watch the Golden Globes last night. Nearly every show that captivates me was represented. I screamed when Tracee won and nearly cried when she thanked the “colorful people” who’s stories are constantly underrepresented in Hollywood.

 

Then when Atlanta won immediately afterward I almost had an asthma attack. Two shows who scream “being black is dope AF” were awarded in an amazing manner in front of millions of people. The moment was black and beautiful…until it was Bad and Boujee.

 

 

So, yes. Thank you, Migos. Thank you, Tracee Ellis Ross. Thank you, Donald Glover. Thank you, Viola Davis. Thank you, Issa Rae. Thank you to all the “colorful people” who come into my headphones or TV screen and give me encouragement when I’m feeling defeated. Thank you for giving me joy when I’m feeling sad. Thank you for sharing your gift and encouraging me to pursue my dreams. Thank you.