In fairness, the teen pregnancy debate has raged in minority communities for decades; the numbers have ebbed and flowed for generations. At the core of the debate is one unmistakable fact; people really don’t have to get pregnant. Out-of-wedlock births really are a matter of choice, a lack of foresight, and sheer irresponsibility. Fight the stereotypes as we might, being sexually active and getting pregnant really are two totally different issues.

Worse still is our inability to speak frankly about young men who exhibit no sense of commitment or responsibility in sharing in the care and support for the child they helped to create. Can anyone blame outsiders from looking astounded and disgusted at such behavior?

Statistically, the numbers of children born to young African-American and Latino mothers, albeit down from a decade prior, should horrify us. In communities rife with violence, poverty, and educational deprivation, sexually irresponsible behavior portends a perpetuation of powerlessness and dependence among our people. For children born from unplanned and often unwanted pregnancies, poverty, limited access to an adequate education, and a propensity for repeating the same cycle is often the result.

According to one source, 48 percent of non-Hispanic black women get pregnant before age twenty. Of this group, 97 percent are unmarried and have little recognizable means of financial or emotional support. Less than 23 percent of fathers remain in the lives of the child, or offer any financial assistance. Sadly, more than a quarter of teen mothers will be pregnant again less than two years after giving birth the first time.

In a nation replete with wealth, access and opportunities, it is imperative that we demand focus from each other. Although there are exceptions to any rule, to posit that a future facing these children is bleak is nothing less than an understatement!

Let us be clear, we have become a society bent on technology and a sense of the immediate: we do a disservice to young people when we make excuses for their irresponsibility.

If we are troubled at society’s tendency to lambast us with stereotypes, then let’s begin with corrective actions that make such claims lies, and not accusations verifiable with a simple Google search!

In the black community, there is a negative stigma surrounding mental health. Instead of seeking professional help for conditions such as depression and anxiety, many in the community resort to self-medication (drugs, opioids, alcohol, etc.) or isolation in an attempt to solve their problems on their own. This issue of masking pain is especially prevalent amongst black men.

Speaking from experience, I know how black men grow up in culture that tells us “men are not supposed to cry,” that we “should deal with problems on our own.” This only enforces the idea that it’s not okay for us to say we are hurting inside. I’ve spoken to countless friends who, out of fear of being labeled as weak or less than a man, don’t want to acknowledge or vocalize any of their pains. This is true for me as well, as there have been moments in my life when I was afraid of sharing my true emotional well-being (or lack thereof) to close family and friends.

This year alone, there have been over 6.8 million black Americans who had a diagnosable mental illness. If we are unable to remove the negative stigma surrounding mental health in the black community, we are willingly allowing another generation to grow up without access to counseling and mental health improvement resources that can help them live a happy, healthy life.

Out of my desire to create long-lasting change in the black community, I am using my voice and platform to help others. I have heard one story too many of people in the black community struggling in the darkness, and I don’t want that to continue any longer. Anyone, regardless of how strong they are or how much they appear to “have it together” may be struggling with their mental health. You are not alone in your pain and you are not “weak” or “less than” because you are hurting. It’s time we reach out and ask for or offer help—because that’s what it takes to achieve the true healing we need.

Skin color matters because we are a visual species and we respond to one another based on the way we physically present. Add to that the “like belongs with like” beliefs most people harbor, and the race-based prejudices human beings have attached to certain skin colors, and we come to present-day society, where skin color becomes a loaded signifier of identity and value. In the U.S. in particular, where we have an extremely diverse population, race still matters, but color matters, too.

In the 21st century, as America becomes less white and the multiracial community—formed by interracial unions and immigration—continues to expand, color will be even more significant than race in both public and private interactions. Why? Because a person’s skin color is an irrefutable visual fact that is impossible to hide, whereas race is a constructed, quasi-scientific classification that is often only visible on a government form.The funny thing is, the word colorism doesn’t even exist. Not officially. It autocorrects on one’s computer screen. It does not appear in the dictionary. Still, the author and activist Alice Walker is the person most often credited with first using the word colorism, out loud and in print. In an essay that appeared in her 1983 book, ” Search in our Mothers Garden” Walker defined colorism as “prejudicial or preferential treatment of same-race people based solely on their color.” Light-skin preference had been common practice in the black community for generations, but Walker gave it a name and marked it as an evil that must be stopped in order for African Americans to progress as a people.

But black Americans are not the only people obsessed with how light or dark a person’s skin is. Colorism is a societal ill felt in many places all around the world, including Latin America, East and Southeast Asia, the Caribbean and Africa. Here in the U.S., because we are such a diverse population with citizens hailing from all corners of the earth, our brand of colorism is both homegrown and imported. And make no mistake, white Americans are just as “colorist” as their brown brothers and sisters.

Rocking a Native American headdress at your next music festival may be a bigger deal than you first thought. Chances are you’ve heard about ‘cultural appropriation’, but it can be tricky to understand. Learning about what it is, when it happens and what makes it a big deal is a great way to avoid landing in a sticky or offensive situation.

What cultural appropriation is:
The name is a bit of a mouthful, but cultural appropriation happens when a dominant culture takes things from another culture that is experiencing oppression. We know there are a lot of technical-sounding words here, so let’s break it down:

A ‘dominant culture’ is the most visible and accepted culture within a particular society.
‘Oppression’ describes repeated and prolonged discrimination. It’s something that’s carried out through powerful organisations such as courts, the armed forces or schools. It’s not just one-on-one behaviour, but a form of structural discrimination, meaning it’s backed by powerful authorities. Racism, homophobia and sexism are all forms of oppression.
What cultural appropriation isn’t:
Cultural exchange is different from cultural appropriation. Things like tea, gunpowder and pasta have been shared between different cultures throughout history. These ‘borrowings’ aren’t the same as cultural appropriation, because they don’t involve power. When different cultures come together on an equal footing, exchange happens. But when dominant groups take from an oppressed group, we’re dealing with appropriation.

Cultural exchange is also very different from assimilation. ‘Assimilation’ describes what happens when minority cultures are forced to adopt features from a dominant culture in order to fit in. This is different from appropriation, because it’s done to ensure survival and to avoid discrimination.

Why cultural appropriation is a problem
It continues the oppression of the non-dominant culture

When we look at a culture that’s experiencing oppression, it’s often a result of colonisation, where a dominant group has claimed ownership of the land and its people. When the dominant group continues to steal aspects of the non-dominant culture, it continues the economic oppression and disadvantage of that culture.

In Australia, there are cases where white Australian businesses have stolen Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander artworks for use on T-shirts and souvenirs. This allows the dominant culture to make money from the non-dominant culture, without benefiting the original artists.

It doesn’t give people credit for their own culture:

Cultural appropriation also has a nasty habit of giving the dominant group credit for aspects of a culture that they have taken, reinforcing the power imbalance between the two groups.

For example, Kylie Jenner was credited with starting an ‘edgy’ new hair trend, while black actress Zendaya faced criticism for wearing her hair the same way. What’s interesting about this, is that Zendaya’s natural hair was seen as a negative. But Kylie Jenner, a person with no ties to black culture, was given credit for taking something that wasn’t hers.

In my three years of being a highschool students I have acquired a new feeling of high school and how it changed me as a person. I feel like a old lady in a swarm grandchildren. The maturity levels varies as it ranged from freshman to senior I’ve noticed that I outgrown the highschool scene and senioritis starting to tick in abruptly.

I’ve also realized that I’ve changed from a simple-minded and naive freshman to a high standing , responsible , but tired upperclassmen. The workload is becoming more strenuous and I really don’t have time to have fun anymore. I realized that maybe that my happiness is being overshadowed by academics. This concept doesn’t allow me to express myself anymore.