BMM: One Year Later

It’s been a year since I founded Black Millennial Musings. Hoping to create a trusted and sincere online space for Black millennial thought, I’m proud to say that BMM is well on its way to achieving this mission.

This blog was born from a place of frustration. Writing on online platforms geared towards white lumbersexuals and other hipster denominations, I found my words lost on a sanctimonious audience of white 20somethings. Furthermore, I was frustrated by the constant caricature of the millennial generation as a massive group of white kids forgoing their parents wealth in favor of rundown, overpriced Williamsburg apartments. In a self-aggrandized sense of irony, white media outlets characterized millennials as a generation scrimping and pinching to pay rent, while still finding funds for the daily $7 frappuccino.

Sure, that is one segment of millennial culture … but, despite the desperate attempts from media and politicians to make it so, it isn’t the only segment. There’s an overlooked Black contingent of millennials, and we’re full of unique perspectives about … well … everything.

With more scholarship, resources, and experiences, we’re able to articulate the current state of racial affairs within a contemporary context. We’re able to understand racism and prejudice through the lens of microaggressions and other nuances that irritate our consciousness and rattle our heritage. We’re capable of seeing beyond the mirage of colorblindness, and quantify institutional racism as evidence that a venal racial hierarchy still exists.

We’re able to take our historical roots seriously while still having fun. We turn up and crunk out. We twerk. We NaeNae. We whip. When we’re at the family cookout, we Electric Slide. And when Miley, Taylor, Iggy, and Justin appropriates our creativity, we come up with something even better. We’re fluid. We’re magical.

With this context in mind, I deemed it necessary for Black millennials to have a reliable platform on which to read and share content that speaks directly to our transformative politic. And one year later, this goal is very close to being accomplished. I’d especially like to give credit to Black Girl Nerds, the first platform I wrote on that made me feel safe, and subsequently served as inspiration for BMM’s creation and development.

Looking back, I had an inexplicable feeling that BMM would catch. One of my earliest pieces “An Open Letter to a Privileged White Girl” garnered massive attention due to being Freshly Pressed. I wrote that piece a week after starting BMM. And now, almost a year to the date, “The Curious Case of Lupe Fiasco” is going viral.

I’m humbled by the response BMM is getting, but there is still work to be done. Where last year I was feeling my way around the dark, this year will be one of deliberate strategy. I’m making practicable moves to ensure that growth continues at such an exponential pace. Please expect great things in the very near future.

This in mind, please continue to support BMM. Please share content. Please submit content! Like BMM on Facebook, and follow on Twitter. These little acts of labor make a hell of a difference. Seriously.

If you’re able, please make a small donation to BMM to help us grow into the powerhouse we can potentially be.

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This year, I’m particularly interested in writers who identify as or focus on LGBTQ issues, as it’s important to have all Black voices represented in this online space. If you’re interested, please send me an email at

If you’re reading this, I cannot thank you enough. I’m determined to make BMM a staple within the Black blogosphere, and your support is helping me get there. Much love. Much peace.

“It is our duty to fight for freedom. It is our duty to win. We must love and protect each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains.” – Assata Shakur.

photo 1Get at me @arielle_newton. Get at us @blkmillennials.


6 responses to “BMM: One Year Later

  1. Congratulations on completing your first year. It’s a testament to the transformative process of moving a thought from idea to action. May this space continue to grow as you amplify the voices of Black Millennials that are so often left out of the conversation.


  2. I had no idea what a “lumbersexual” was until this… Although living in the northwest, I realize now what I’m surrounded by are lumbersexuals…

    and I’m afraid I’m one of the first people to have rented in Williamsburg which led to the word of mouth of the said millennial take over there because after graduation, New York apartments were next to impossible to get… and we all wanted to be as close to the city as possible… to be artists and musicians. I’m not a millennial, but when I moved there it was predominantly Dominican Republic and Puerto Rican population… below the Polish district and above the Hasidic Jewish district. All of the street signs in my area were Anglo-saxon names, as well as the architecture was often Colonial, so you could see how the populations had already shifted… and then came the re-gentrification by way of college students and artists and aspiring bands. I fixed up an apartment on Roebling… just across the Williamsburg bridge… hmmmm….maybe it still has that awesome bright gumball pink toilet seat cushion I picked out… 🙂

    So there’s my confession before I say clearly your voice is needed. I remember that article about white privilege and the Yoga class. It was the first article of yours I read. I have found you have been an invaluable voice in my life ever since. Whether you want to be or not, you are one of the best teachers around. Thanks Arielle.


  3. Coincidentally about “hipsters” I forgot to mention that this was sent this to me in an email just yesterday…

    Carrie Brownstein nails the “hipster” tag:

    Does the word hipster mean anything anymore?
    You know, I feel like hipster is one of those terms that no one ever knew exactly what it meant. It plays into everyone’s insecurities of someone else being cooler than they are, or trying to be cooler than they are. I always felt the term was insufficient in this way. To me, it was like, “Describe something that you yourself felt like you couldn’t pull off.” It felt sort of derogatory, but at the same time, there was the element of, “Should I be wanting to do that?”


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