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Black America Web
20-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Black America Web
104: What An Angel Number Between Freedom And Fire Reveals About Black And Queer Survival
Source: David Espejo / Getty If you spend enough time around me, you'll hear me proudly say I was born and raised in North Omaha, Nebraska. To be Black in a place like Omaha is to wrestle for your identity. To craft your Blackness with care. You build it from scratch, from what's handed down and what's taken back. For me, that journey wasn't limited to my Blackness. It was the same when it came to queerness and to my identity as a Black trans woman. But here's the trick: society made queerness seem more accessible. Nobody told me the fine print came stamped in whiteness. That so much of queerness—as it's marketed and magnified—was filtered through white supremacy. That embracing that version of queerness could, in fact, dull the brilliance of my Black joy. I'll never forget the year when the Juneteenth Parade and the Pride Parade fell on the same day in my city. It was a crossroads. For many Black queer folks, there wasn't a question; they chose Juneteenth. I was there too, but that wasn't because I didn't love Pride. I had done my time. I'd been president of Pride, and built Youth Pride from the ground up. I had fought for Pride when it didn't fight for me. I had done the work of making space for my queerness. That day, I was finally making space for my Blackness. What I witnessed, though, was deeper. I saw younger queer folks—especially those partnered with non-Black people—being pulled between two identities that, in a just world, would never require a choice. That day didn't just symbolize a scheduling conflict. It symbolized the dailytightrope walk so many Black queer people perform in this country: to choose between being seen and being whole. Let's be honest; in many Black-centered institutions, queerness is welcome only when it plays small. To be embraced as queer, you often have to downplay what makes you different and keep your queerness at the bottom of your identity list. Because at the end of the day, you're Black first, right? Source: Olga Tsikarishvili / Getty But flip it. In most mainstream queer spaces, you're expected to check your Blackness at the door—unless that Blackness fits a stereotype or serves as a costume. Unless it entertains. Unless it's for consumption. So I need you to hear me when I say, it is not an accident that Juneteenth and Pride exist in the same month. It is not a coincidence that our most powerful Black changemakers were also queer. It is not by chance that the intersection of Blackness and queerness continues to be a birthplace for brilliance, resistance, and transformation. This is divine alignment. Now, I know I'm preaching to folks who feel me. But let me be clear: I write this not just for affirmation; I write this for the Black folks who don't see the world like I do. Not because your perception will limit my freedom, but because none of us are free if we believe we can get to the other side and leave our people behind. Especially the people who make us uncomfortable. Liberation isn't real if it's only for the versions of us that are palatable. White communities have spent the last 50 years mobilizing an agenda that has taken root in every corner of this country, and they didn't do it because they were all the same, or because they were all straight, or because they were all moral. They didn't do it because they agreed. They did it because they were all white. That was the only prerequisite. I'm not saying we should build coalitions based on scarcity and fear. Source: Michele Ursi / Getty I know that game. And I know the exhaustion it's bred in our communities. But we'd be foolish not to notice the power in what happens when people align, even amid difference. So let's look at what alignment has given us. On June 19, 1865, enslaved Black people in Texas were finally emancipated, triggering the birth of a freedom dream that gave us Michelle Obama on a float, Oprah commanding empires, Megan Thee Stallion reminding us we ain't got knees like we used to, and Brandy and Monica arguing over 'The Boy Is Mine.' It gave us Whitney. Mariah. Aretha. Patti. Jazmine. And 104 years later, on June 29, 1969, a Black Trans woman—Marsha P. Johnson—sparked a revolution at Stonewall that gave us TS Madison, the queen of media; Queen Latifah, a mogul and a mother; Laverne Cox, making Emmy history; Bayard Rustin, strategist to Dr. King; Nikki Giovanni, living her radical brilliance in real time; Miss Major, building a legacy of elder care for our community; Toni Bryce and Monroe Alise, reshaping television; A'Ziah 'Zola' King, whose Black girlhood became cinematic canon; and me—Dominique Morgan—who went from a prisonyard to walking down the street named after her in the same state. It was 104 years between June 19, 1865, the emancipation of the last enslaved Black people in Texas, and June 29, 1969, the night a Black Trans woman helped ignite a revolution at Stonewall. That gap isn't just historical. It's spiritual. In numerology, 104 is often seen as an Angel Number—a divine reminder to embrace change and align your actions with a higher purpose. It signals that transformation is not only possible; it's coming. It asks us to lean into discomfort with faith, to shift our mindset toward growth, and to recognize love as the connective tissue in our evolution. That's what alignment has always been — a form of divine choreography. We were always meant to be moving together—even when the rhythm was hard to hear. Source: Jackson State University / Getty You really wanna tell me we aren't aligned? Alignment doesn't mean we're the same. Alignment doesn't mean we never argue. Alignment doesn't mean it's easy. For me, alignment means that we are fighting harder to stay in tandem than we are eager to fall apart. That's the definition I want you to take from this piece. That's the call to action. That's the invitation. Because the world will give us 100 reasons to separate. They will whisper that your queerness disqualifies you. That your Blackness is too loud. That your transness is a liability. That your softness makes you weak. And all the while, they'll lie, steal, kill, and destroy, just to keep themselves aligned. As my Grandma Woodie used to say, 'Don't let the devil use you.' This Juneteenth, this Pride, I'm asking us to make a different choice. To honor our collective brilliance. To hold the line. To stay in tandem. To choose alignment—again and again and again. SEE ALSO: Pride Is Still Protest: World Pride in the Era of Trump 2.0 Kendrick Sampson's BLD PWR Teams Up With SisterSong And GBEF For Houston Juneteenth Event SEE ALSO 104: What An Angel Number Between Freedom And Fire Reveals About Black And Queer Survival was originally published on Black America Web Featured Video CLOSE
Yahoo
03-04-2025
- Business
- Yahoo
Lawmaker seeks to establish guardrails, ‘some accountability' around artificial intelligence
(David Espejo/Stock photo via Getty Images) Democratic state Sen. Dina Neal wants to put some guardrails around artificial intelligence companies setting up in Nevada and prevent some professions such as police officers and teachers from misusing the technology. Senate Bill 199, heard Wednesday by the Senate Commerce and Labor Committee, would establish a process for AI companies to register with the Bureau of Consumer Protection within the Attorney General's Office. The legislation would require AI companies to develop, implement and maintain policies, procedures and protocols to prevent hate speech, bullying, bias, fraud and the dissemination of misinformation. Much of the language in the bill was based on principles outlined by the Organization for Economic Cooperation Development, a global policy network, and included language similar to 'a definition that is used in 44 countries, including the United States,' Neal said. She also used language found in Colorado legislation that passed in 2024 and established AI regulations. Business groups, including the Vegas Chamber and the Las Vegas Global Economic Alliance, opposed the legislation arguing it would stifle 'economic growth' by deterring tech companies from moving to the state. 'The unfettered movement of AI without guardrails is not the intent and not the direction I seek to move,' Neal said. 'We should know how data is being used within an AI system. We should be able to consent to when and how our information is used in an AI system …There should be some accountability.' SB 199, if passed, would also prohibit law enforcement from using AI to generate police reports or teachers from using software to create lesson plans. The Associated Press reported last year that Oklahoma City was using AI chatbots to generate crime reports from recordings picked up by body cameras and police radios. Neal was shocked by the story and realized 'we really need to deal with this' to ensure there were 'guardrails that are associated with police reporting.' 'I wanted to make sure that it was something we were proactively considering,' Neal said, expressing alarm at the possibility that 'a person is actually going to be affected negatively by the police reporting that may not have been done by (police), but by an AI chatbot.' Law enforcement groups, including Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department and Washoe County Sheriff's Office, opposed the section. Jason Walker, a lobbyist for the Washoe County Sheriff's office, said there are 'many advantageous uses of AI in the law enforcement profession.' He didn't specify what specifically about the prohibition on using AI to generate police reports he was against. In addition to preventing teachers from creating AI-generated lesson plans, the bill creates a working group on the use of artificial intelligence systems in the education system to develop further recommendations and guidelines. Two Clark High School students who worked on sections of the bill regarding education presented the legislation alongside Neal on Wednesday. They cited a recent incident in which five students in a business class turned in nearly identical AI generated assignments – with the same spelling mistakes. Celine Chang warned lawmakers that 'unregulated AI use is affecting students, teachers and the learning environment' but the state lacks standardized regulations. Clark student Karen Wu, said AI isn't just a tool to 'supplement learning but to replace it.' 'We acknowledge that AI is not going away, but the way we integrate it into education will determine whether it becomes a tool for enrichment or a shortcut that erodes learning,' she said. The bill would also prevent landlords and property management groups from using AI from determining rent prices. Republican state Sen. John Steinbeck questioned if that provision would hurt the housing market. 'It's my understanding that apartment operations utilize AI software to assist with filling apartments,' he said. 'It helps them with the market analysis and may actually help lower some housing costs.' The provision, Neal said, was to prevent price fixing by real estate software companies such as Real Page, which has faced numerous lawsuits for artificially raising the price of rents. RealPage has denied wrongdoing in these cases. Neal specifically highlighted the North Carolina case where the state attorney general 'sued six companies for colluding to raise rent instead of competing in the fair market using AI tools.' 'They exploited landlord sensitive information to create a price fixing algorithm, or pricing algorithm that violated antitrust laws,' she said. The legislation would also require the Nevada Department of Employment, Training and Rehabilitation to estimate the number and types of Nevada jobs at risk of being lost due to AI. 'We have seen reports that within five years, there's going to be a serious shedding of traditional jobs' as a result of AI, Neal said. 'At the end of the day, the state is responsible if their citizens are out of work.' Other than the bill's presenters — Neal and the students — no one testified in support of the legislation. The committee took no action on the bill.
