All fathers want to console their children, but telling them to stop crying like a girl isn’t the way

“H“Hey, kid,” I said in the doorway of my 15-year-old son’s room. It was late last year, and he had just told me about the death of Chicago rapper Juice WRLD. “You know you can talk to your dad, too?”

“He doesn’t know who he is,” my son replied.


Black teens, who’ve historically had lower suicide rates than their white peers, now have disproportionately higher rates—but why?

Bryce Gowdy was haunted by “personal demons,” as his mother Shibbon Winelle put it.

They were homeless. The job Winelle was working at wasn’t paying her enough or on time, and the stress from the situation had been causing her chest pains. 17-year-old Gowdy was feeling the pressure of his…

Black in the Midwest

Moms are mobilizing to protect their neighborhood’s children

Last month, we published a special series on what it’s like to be Black in the Midwest and invited you to share your own experiences. The following is one of several submissions by Medium writers that we are excited to share with you.

“We are not activists,” said Tamar Manasseh…

This Is Us

By listening — really listening — we can make space for marginalized voices in the motherhood conversation

WeWe give each other power when we don’t try to fix one another’s problems. We don’t offer judgment. We listen. Each of us knows that we will never have it all figured out. When the time comes, we hold space for one another.

It’s a tradition I’ve seen passed down…

Hint: It’s not regulated, but a new bill could help change that.

Skin is our body’s largest organ. To keep it healthy, we use only the best ingredients, right? Actually, we don’t really know.

Surprisingly, the regulation of skincare products in the United States is left to the manufacturers of those products. This means no federal agency oversees the safety of the…

Making decisions about my prenatal care, on my own terms, allowed me to have the experience I wanted

II didn’t want any more ultrasounds. It wasn’t the cold jelly on my stomach skin or the awkward small talk with the sonographer while I sat scooched down, half-naked wearing a medium paper sheet when I clearly needed an extra-large that made me most anxious. It was the thought that…

Kelly Glass

Writer and editor whose interests focus on the intersections of parenting, health, and race. Find me at and on Twitter @kellygwriter.

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