kbryantlucas

“You going to that party?”

“An integrated party? In the Harricans?!“ When his daughter Bettie told him that a white friend at school had invited her to a party out in the Harricans, Mr. Oney Edwards peered at her with a look that ran the gamut of incredulity. The “Harricans” was a region out to the west of the smallContinue reading ““You going to that party?””

“They remember.”

What follows is an excerpt from my memoir From Where I Stand, a love story across time and race. The place is Wake Forest, North Carolina. The time is summer of 2021. The windows are down, the AC is off. The July day is hot, but not humid. The Carolina Chocolate Drops are wailing onContinue reading ““They remember.””

“…a few miles up the road.”

This post is an excerpt from my memoir From Where I Stand, a story of love across time and race. The place is six miles to the west of Wake Forest, North Carolina. The time is 1968-1969. In 1971, Wake County schools were mandated to be fully desegregated. The story follows on the heels of myContinue reading ““…a few miles up the road.””

Goddess of Discord

This post is an excerpt from my memoir From Where I Stand, a story of love across time and race. The place is Wake Forest, North Carolina, a small town of about 4,000 people. The time is 1967-1968, about three years before the total desegregation of Wake County schools. Beginning in the late 1950s, my fatherContinue reading “Goddess of Discord”

Promised

by Lynn Farmer A poem to Cuba Searching for haven in the stormy night,I may well perish as I make my way;But always to you, Fair Cuba, holding tight,Fast by the rudder, I await the day.–José Jacinto Milanés When I am far away from you,I can still imagine the crashing azure into whiteover the waitingContinue reading “Promised”

The Moment

He does not hang. He hovers…. The Moment of Decision, but his choice is already made: suspended from nails we cannot see, sharp shadow stretched across concrete or rusted metal beams. He does not hang. He hovers, golden wings raised, coming in for a landing, or a scoop of silvery fish — While his fisher-friendsContinue reading “The Moment”

Entre nosotras el mar

A love letter to Cuba and La Vigia A poet and an artist walk into a bar. No, this is not the beginning of a joke. The setting is Cuba. The time is the late 1980s and early 1990s, during what Fidel Castro dubs “the Special Period in the Time of Peace.” The Iron CurtainContinue reading “Entre nosotras el mar”

Creative Love (as the world burns)

How many different ways can you find to say I love you? Every night we perform the same ritual, my husband William and I. We may be in separate rooms or sitting side by side in bed. But we are both intent on our phones, scrolling through GIFs and plotting message threads that we shareContinue reading “Creative Love (as the world burns)”

Pledging allegiance

I stand up behind the podium. I am addressing a meeting of the Rotary Club of Wake Forest, North Carolina, in the back room of a local cafeteria. The people in front of me are mostly white. They sit along the sides of long rectangular tables placed in cramped rows, their faces washed out byContinue reading “Pledging allegiance”

The Slaughter of Innocence

I was not there for the Slaughter of the Innocents. I was with the rest of the cast in the lounge that served as a green room—sitting on a comfy chair or on the floor with my legs stretched out in front of me. Doing homework, studying for exams. Chatting, singing Bob Dylan or JoniContinue reading “The Slaughter of Innocence”