hood therapy vol. 1
this piece is inspired by several writers that I follow on this platform, from creative direction to organized layout this piece is cultivated from a place of creative inspiration.
hey! welcome if this is your first time visiting, and welcome back if you are returning! I love community discussions on topics that keep my thoughts racing and my fingers moving at lightning speed to keep up. my Scorpio energy loves intensity and depth when it comes to communication. this post is different it may become a series of my collective ideas designed beautifully to create an aesthetic to match. this one is for all readers to enjoy my inspired creative expression thought piece, but full access will be to paid subscriptions moving forward.
Reflective Thoughts.
It’s 6:06 pm PST on Sunday and I have this sudden inspirational urge to create.
I did it! I moved to the west side, I followed my dreams. No wonder it was so difficult to leap, who have I seen do it? Where I’m from people don’t “chase their dreams,” I’m not even sure if they allow themselves to have dreams.
Why did I go against the grain? What kept me from conforming? I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. From a different perspective, I would say this may be a gift mislabeled. I viewed my inability to adapt to society as a downfall rather than a superpower. I can see beyond society's norms and challenge the assembly line lifestyle. No wonder I ventured out to pursue my dreams, it was almost designated.
If I were to lean into the sudden urges more, how would life start to flow? I wouldn’t resist as much and surrender all control if I decided to flow rather than resist. That is my goal this week starting with this piece. I’m inspired by so many writers on this platform while riding this high from my book being published this week. The creative juices are flowing through my veins like the smoke that fills my lungs with these Mary Jane puffs.
things that feel nostalgic
I crave the old days. Summer days are meant to be filled with music that feels good to the soul, dancing in the yard while waving at your favorite cousins that just pulled up. Black culture feels like going to Grandma’s house and playing outside all day because that back-and-forth behavior is not allowed; you either stay in or out to prevent running out the cool air. That nostalgic feeling of the taste of red Kool-aid made just right with the perfect amount of water to the sugary hood classic. An ice-cold cup of diabetes always hits the spot with high-blood-pressure fried chicken with hot sauce paired with a slice of white bread. I miss the good old days, don’t you?
intrusive thoughts: hip-hop lied to us.
I don’t know if it’s just me, but lately, it’s felt like the secrets buried in the 90s have come back to haunt not just our black “heroes” but us too and I can’t help but feel like hip-hop let us down. For years, this topic has weighed heavily on my heart, and since reading
’s piece, ‘Dancing Around the Cycles of Harm’, the thoughts have robbed my consciousness. Stanley opens up with this line: “Diddy's behavior is not an anomaly, it's the norm, we have cultivated an entire generation of abusers, it doesn't have to be this way.” This one sentence sent me spiraling back down a rabbit hole I’d accepted no one would be willing to travel down with me. Not because the conspiracy gossip is too juicy, but I noticed our culture is sensitive about allegations against our “heroes”. It’s hard for us to accept that Diddy is a monster, and has been the whole time we idolized him. All the rumors were true, we believed him and turned our backs on black women who spoke their truth.But it’s not just him. I believe it’s so many more that will come out soon and it saddens me that these men are the ones that molded and shaped our culture into what it is today. I believe that the B.I.G. and Tupac’s beef was staged to distract the culture from the truth they wanted to reveal about the scandalized behavior between music industry CEOs on both the East and West Coast. Weirdly, Jay-Z bought 100 exclusive Crenshaw releases from Nipsey Hussle’s popup shop in LA.
Just like that, Nipsey moved 100 of the 1,000 physical CDs he pressed up in one shot. "They sent us $10,000, we sent them 100 CDs," Nip confirmed. "I didn't get a chance to holla at Jay, but through his people, he made it clear that he respects the movement and everything. I was humbled by it. I felt like it was a good risk, and it ended up working out."
-Nipsey Hussle, MTV Interview
What did Jay-Z want with those physical copies, why couldn’t it have been a donation to support the hustle? It could be a bro code and I’m no bro to know, but his move never sat right with me. What was his hidden agenda? These allegations have proved that these types of men always have hidden agendas. I believe Jay-Z was working on building a relationship with Nipsey to gain his trust, but Nipsey was too authentic to play into their childish industry games. Something behind the scenes took place that left Nipsey Hussle dead, and my intuition feels this was another conscious rapper silenced before he could expose something or somebody.
Kendrick Lamar’s debut this year revealed eye-opening information for us to dissect and read deeper into. We are starting to notice the patterns, seems like society’s plan to poison us with ADHD and autism backfired. If you aren’t aware one of the symptoms of these “disorders” is recognizing patterns, and as a collective, this has been helping us to see the patterns in plain sight. Nothing has been hidden, like Stanley mentioned, this cycle has been going on for generations. I would assume the East Coast vs. West Coast beef has been about saving black culture from weirdos in the industry. Nipsey said it himself in Victory Lap, ‘They tell me, "Hussle dumb it down, you might confuse 'em" This ain't that weirdo rap y'all motherfuckers used to’. What is the music industry hiding from us, and has their agenda been to brainwash the black community to what extreme? Why do they hate us so much?
A Letter to Black Women
Dear Black Woman,
I see you. This letter is to the black woman who inspired me this week with her words as she challenged herself to show up regardless of how exhausted she was. Black women on this platform are writing for themselves, this is our only true escape. Here is the only place it seems that our words matter, and are heard. In the internet world, behind our words is the only place we are seen, heard, and felt as we are, tired and all.
I’d be lying if I wasn’t honest about my fears coming to this platform. This isn’t my first rodeo seeking to find my community of black women. I’ve cultivated many online communities for you, black women, to feel safe and each time you left me grieving. Growing up you didn’t accept me as your friend because you questioned how a black girl had long silk hair and a red Indian skin complexion. When you would finally welcome me the visit was temporary, eventually you turned on me leaving me to question why wasn’t I enough. The need to be accepted by black women has been an ongoing battle my entire life, and it was not until this past Christmas that things clicked. I long to be accepted by black women because my mother did not and I’ve been looking to fill that void. Correction, I was longing to fill that void.
Once I accepted myself, I recognized a few things I hid about myself. I find a soul fulfillment in exploring the depth of my truth and sharing my discoveries. Suppose I’m not careful with my approach I can trigger your insecurities as a black woman who has not accepted herself. I am the mirror on the wall reflecting to you as I explore the hidden truth of my inability to accept my insecurities. I intend to open up and we discuss this openly and honestly without judgment or criticism, but it isn’t always received that way. But here, I am received with warm welcoming energy. As
has mentioned in our interactions this week, “I'm really appreciating this space where we can see ourselves reflected. It's so necessary.” I couldn’t agree with Kelsey more, it feels good to be in a space where we see ourselves reflected and accept each other without judgment or criticism.Now that’s some black girl magic for you!
your piece, ‘black woman smoking blithely, let me free you’, describes the black woman’s craving for a soft life to be a fantasized escape from the hardship we endure. I couldn’t agree with you more, throughout my self-discovery experience I have noticed my need to flee. That song, she’s a runner she’s a track star, is me. I tend to escape when things get hard, hard being determined by my current perspective of the situation at the time. For the past year, I have shamed myself for this tendency to escape from reality by numbing myself from feeling anything. Your words cultivated a space for me to surrender my need to escape and accept that I am tired. I’ve accepted this reality as my truth and honored my need for rest. I have been sleeping in a little later, and getting back into a routine of slow mornings. Writing I’ve found to be the perfect escape to allow myself an opportunity for creative rest, which I didn’t realize I needed the most. Thank you for showing up for yourself with your piece, because you reflected that ability in me to show up for myself too.
you set the stage for this creative layout by creating a vibe with your piece, ‘Lemon’, your transparency about being overstimulated but forced to push on resonated with me in many ways. This year I’ve noticed what it feels like to be overstimulated. I am not used to this feeling, but I don’t think it’s a new experience. I have struggled with this feeling my whole life but it’s shown up as irritation and frustration. By sharing your outlets that allow you to move through this overstimulated energy I have been motivated to explore my outlets through creativity. Although, I don’t know when or if we will ever get the rest from the hustle of being creative in a capitalist society I do know that the more you show up for yourself in your safe space the more we see you as we search for like-souls to connect with. I am happy to have found you because I am also a dope black girl with anxiety trying to navigate in a society that feeds off my shortcomings. I pray we continue to uplift and inspire each other through our moments of showing up! , you showed me how it feels to be seen and accepted in a community for the first time. Although I thought I had experienced it before, the feeling I had seeing my piece featured in your ‘community corner’ section in your piece, ‘For Mothers’ is a feeling I’d never experienced before. My past replays the struggle and hardship of forming healthy relationships with black women regardless of how much I urge for these connections. I have intended to find my community, especially on this platform and it’s been happening. Your acknowledgment gave me a sense of acceptance and worthiness to show up as a writer in my way. To be seen by a black woman doing the same thing as you feels safe on this platform. We aren’t in competition with one another, but we show up and support each other. It may not be abnormal in your world, but in mine, it’s something I thought would never happen. So thank you for seeing and accepting me in my truth, as I am, without expectations. It means the world to me, even if you are a “stranger” on the internet, your actions are of a friend and a sister.
Love,
Jacquie
A Letter to Black Men
Dear Black Man,
To see you show up articulating your words in such a way that moves and impacts others outside of our community warms my heart. The world may not always want to see you win, but I do and it’s rewarding to cheer you on from the sidelines. As I write you this letter with pure intent to celebrate you; I found through writing there is a confession I need to make to you. I silently hated you during my process of grieving my idolization of you.
I gave up on you black man. After one too many failed relationships, my obsession with being the perfect partner for a black man crumbled away. I never felt that all men were dogs, or that all men were the same, but I accepted my fate with black men. I think men in general. You see I have been beat and bruised by the hands of many black men in my twenties. Yet, I still kept my faith in you even when the police showed up I lied for you. I made it my mission to “un-trap da hood” hoping it would free you from the shackles you were placed under. I do not hate black men, but I accept that I am happier in a relationship without you.
But it’s not you, it’s me. I was not raised with my father at home so the connection with black men in general is foreign to me. It doesn’t feel the way I thought it would, and I am more controlling like my mother than I’d like to admit at times. I was raised by a single black woman who was also beaten and bruised by the hands of many black men. Abuse was the norm. And still, I never gave up on helping you free yourself black man, and I explored where this genuine passion grew from.
I used you. I used you as a cover to disguise my sexuality for 32 years of my life. You were forced upon me, you were not my first choice. I grew up with a mother who “did not play that” and to bring any love interest home that was not a black man was simply not accepted. I played both sides my entire existence never fully accepting who I am until I met her. And for whatever ‘healing’ reason attached to this detachment, I write this letter throwing in the towel no longer playing this game. I honestly didn’t know I felt this way until I started this letter, and I didn’t know how the abuse was my sign to wake up to my truth; they say that’s why we write as writers. I’m glad I finally did. I have forgiveness myself black man, and I have forgiven you too. I forgive you for hurting me, and I forgive myself for never admitting that I was hurt. You hurt me because you knew, and I denied the truth I continued to live the lie. Through this forgiveness, I have learned how to engage in healthy relationships with black men who are platonic. Those connections hold more value than void itself. To be seen and not sexualized is the most empowering feeling to experience as a black woman, and I want these relationships normalized!
I want to finish my letter to you with a thank you to a few black men who created a safe space to show up on this platform, and who have inspired me to continue to write in my authentic truth.
, our first interaction demonstrated how much of a supportive person you are on this platform. You bought the first published copy of my book like you received the first physical copy printed. Before I got my hands on the book, that meant so much. Your energy reminds me of one of my closest friends and that familiar energy makes me feel seen. I can’t speak for all black women but for the ones, I know that’s a quality trait that a lot of black men do not have for multiple reasons. You know firsthand how our culture has been conditioned and shaped to minimize discussions around abuse and its cycle in our community, so I applaud you for being the one to start those difficult conversations! , since reading the first release from your written album my creativity has been skyrocketing. I have so many ideas and this piece is my initial correlation of those ideas intertwined with past ones. Your first act of the written album, seduced in Condesa, shows the level of love and passion you have put into this project. The descriptive words and cadence flow painted the scene for the reader to feel as though we too were seduced in Condesa. I want my writing to feel like that. That’s been my conscious focus in my writing since being inspired by your piece. The section above titled, things that feel nostalgic, is my practice and I look forward to continuing this experience with creative writing. Thank you for seducing us with your words and sharing your passion project, I look forward to the next release. and it inspires me to take up space as I watch you both take up space by craving out space on Substack for black writers to thrive with and The Cookout Library. It is one thing to be on a platform that is not created for us, but it’s a new level of inspiration to use your platform to cultivate a safe space for us to show up authentically. That takes a lot of courage, innovation, and risk to step up to the role of a community leader. I look at this action as something that redefines what it means to be a black man in today’s society. your whole platform is dedicated to you showing up as a black father and husband. Do you know how many black boys will never experience a collection of letters from their fathers? This is a movement that I would love to see expanded. You’ve inspired me to start a collection for my daughter, she is old enough to read and my book was dedicated to her and my wife. To see her face light up knowing that I dedicated my book to her granted me a reward that money could never buy. And you welcomed me with open arms into resulting in me looking forward to waking up at 5:30 am every Friday to join the writer’s sessions. You cultivated a space for us to lock in for focused writing time and fellowship with our peers about our discoveries. I applaud you both for stepping up and rising to your designated positions.Love,
Jacquie
I miss the underground music era.
Freestyle cyphers are my thing. I love to connect with artists who create music from a place of freedom for themselves. Like writing, music is written for the artist as they escape their creative outlet. Here they are free to express themselves in a way that creates feeling for them, and through their words and melodies we feel it too. I have always had a special love and interest in independent music artists. I view them as individuals who invest in their craft because they enjoy it rather than mainstream artists who follow an agenda.
’s piece, Music Video Rotation #1, sparked my flame that was slowly starting to burn out for music. Fun fact about me, I worked in 2023 as a music manager for independent artists in my local community, and I loved every moment of this work until I didn’t anymore. What made me step away was the lack of effort I noticed that the artists had to put the action required behind their dreams. At times I felt I wanted success more than them, however, we had different definitions of what success meant. In Ricky’s piece his breakdown of each video through the lens of the artists or an artist I should say sent me down a path I once cherished. When working with these artists I consistently experienced creative explosions for new releases or the process of recording. Watching new artists that may not be “household” names passionately performing their creations reminds me of those days I adored. Now my ideas for how I wanted to show up in my podcast for paid subscriptions have me excited and eager to get started. Thank you Ricky for that spark! took us down the nostalgic road of Frank Ocean’s classic Nostalgia and sent me reminiscing about the days of good music. Good meaning it touched you on a soul level. In Life Told Through Rap - Nostalgia, Ultra, John highlights this project as one of the last ‘real’ mixtapes. I flashback to a lost era, the mixtape era. Bootleg CDs of customized playlists thoughtfully curated through Limewire and burnt on a blank CD through the computer on dialup internet. What a time to be alive back then! But John doesn’t only mention Frank Ocean, it takes us down memory lane of music that shaped our culture and that’s what got me missing the underground music era of our culture.If I were to compare the feeling I had growing up with freestyle cyphers to anything today it would be mashups. There’s something special about hearing a popular beat with new words mixed in. Music gives me this feeling, I can’t explain it but it feels spiritual. As if I am connecting with something on a deeper level, it imprints my soul bringing back this feeling each time I hear the song. Because this is a space where I can be vulnerable if the music pulls the right heartstrings the tears rush from my eyes like a home invasion.
There is something magical in music and even magical about the people who create it. In the fifth grade, I auditioned to be in the school choir and I remember feeling like I wasn’t enough when I didn’t see my name on the list. I stopped trying out for the stuff after that, wow, even now I have that little voice reminding me of my failed attempts to be enough to make a team. While I may never pursue another career in the music industry, I will never give up my passion to keep that underground music alive.
One thing I enjoyed the most when I worked with artists was the events I curated for them to have a space to perform. I understood that the underground world was of a lost era that only a select people would appreciate. To gain the attention of the culture as a whole I had to make the feelings they experienced at the event through the music unforgettable, just like underground did for me. These events were called Hood Therapy, and once a month in the local downtown sneaker shop, I would put on a free event for the neighborhood. I would host rehearsals every week at my downtown apartment for the band and the artists, and while they rehearsed I would work on the details of the creative outlet activity that matched the vibe of the music.
The hidden intent behind the event was for the neighborhood folk in attendance to connect with their feelings through the music and to transmute that energy through creative expression with the activity. I miss this mission work, and I am excited to transmute that sadness into this beautiful representation of what I have been working on as my life’s work for the last four years.
streetwear aesthetics.
’s piece Riding the Rollercoaster: The Thrills (and Challenges) of Full-Time Freelancing and Entrepreneurship, described the nostalgia of being in the hair salon with her mom. The smell of the curling irons and the buzzing of the hair clippers filled the salon as she sat on the signature leather couch glued to the latest Essense magazine interpreted by the bootleg DVD man. Do you now understand why I’ve been missing the 90s so much this week, seems like all of us were. In her piece, Amirah discussed the struggle of being a freelance creative in a capitalist world and how she is navigating her fashion stylist entrepreneurship journey. In my twenties, I worked as a freelance makeup artist for MAC Cosmetics for 9 years and I loved the freedom while equally questioning my decision because of the inconsistency. Living in your passion is tough. I went to college for fashion and worked in makeup as a career, but lately, I feel I’ve lost my sense of personal style. When I am on Pinterest I know what I like and how I would like to dress, but I’ve never been able to pull it off. I’ve always loved streetwear and romanticized living in California with an edgy aesthetic feel to my style. Perhaps this is the year I find my style through my creative expression, without a “job title” how would I dress free to be me? To me, that is what style and entrepreneurship have in common, freedom of expression which is why black culture has been leading the standard of beauty and fashion for years.
Thank you for vibing with me through my creative flow. I enjoyed this and can’t wait to cultivate Vol. 2 next! You can add value to this work by purchasing my book, Un-Trap da Hood, now available on Amazon, or by engaging with this post through a like, comment, or share!
Jacquie, you've curated something so beautiful here. I am glad that we have connected here and will be in community moving forward. Thank you for seeing the light in this work and yourself. For all the Black men who hurt you, I am sorry. For the ones who could not hold your light, we thank you for your forgiveness, We appreciate you. I am committing to do better by my son.
Thank you for the shout-out, but yooo, this post is a treasure trove of fire people with amazing substacks, and so much reflection. I feel lucky to be in space with you and to have the ability to build!