Faye McCray

Today marks the beginning of the third trimester of my pregnancy.  As of Thursday, my growing baby boy is three pounds and three ounces -- ahead of the growth curve already.  I am so excited to meet this little guy. I'm also feeling a little like a giant feeding sloth ready to spontaneously combust at any moment.  But y'know... the good and the bad.

This pregnancy has been filled with a myriad of emotions for so many reasons.  Many of which you guys know already.  I've also been emotional at the thought of bringing another beautiful brown child into this tumultuous society. However, rather than dwell in the negative (Trump, Police Shootings, Incarceration, oh my), my husband and I decided to create our own little ray of light in an otherwise dark time. Together, we created WeeMagine, an online magazine devoted to celebrating and inspiring children of color and the people who love them.



This labor of love is probably not a surprise to most people who have been following me…

"All art is kind of confession, more or less oblique. All artists, if they are to survive, are forced, at last, to tell the whole story; to vomit the anguish up." - James Baldwin
Late last year, I suffered a miscarriage. I know that's a tough way to start a blog. Okay, it's depressing as hell. The thing is, I've barely written here since. I've barely written anywhere since. I have realized that maybe I need to let some of the depressing stuff out so I can get back to the good. I have been blogging since 2007. Back then, I was shouting into a dark space and really didn't know if anyone was listening. It was cathartic for me. Validating. It allowed me to process the joyous transitions, the unfathomable pain and my personal growth with clarity and at times, company. Lately, I've been kind of afraid of the blank space. Any blank space. This blank space. I think its because I haven't been honest so here it is... all of it.

I had a miscarriage. Even no…

I fell in love with him all at once. Devoured him. Gobbled him up. Like you do a meal you’ve been waiting for all day from that one restaurant you never get tired of.I’d heard him before that day.I’d listened outside my brothers’ rooms as a child.Back then, he was the guy singing “Sexy Motherfu#ker” and making my cheeks hot beneath the wallpapered ceiling of my childhood home in Queens. The day I fell in love, I was in a plaid uniform, tugging at my navy tights and sitting in the back of my mother’s Oldsmobile. I’d borrowed my brother’s CD player.The Hits was in it, B sides.It had all of the greats from Little Red Corvette to Let’s Go Crazy to If I Was Your Girlfriend to Purple Rain to Pink Cashmere. I was swaying, smiling, blushing and bopping.Teleported out of my box braids and morning traffic and transported in the melody. The electricity that pulsated from every lyric, every drum beat, every harmony consoled me.Wrapped me in otherness and released my spirit into the wild.He was a…

Say it with me….
A Dreamer’s Pledge by Faye McCray © Faye McCray, 2014
I will fight to protect my dreams. I will keep getting back up. I will believe in myself when no one else does. I will keep getting back up. I will swallow criticism to the extent it makes me better. I will keep getting back up. I will improve. I will keep getting back up. I will grow. I will keep getting back up. I will be everything my children believe I am. I will keep getting back up. I will succeed to prove the people who believe in me right, not to prove insignificant people wrong. I will keep getting back up. I will be inspired by greatness, not threatened by my own infancy. I will keep getting back up. I will act with gratitude, passion and greater purpose. I will keep getting back up. I will repel negativity. I will keep getting back up. For every step forward, I will reach my hand back. I will keep getting back up I will remain humble and kind. I will keep getting back up. I will not settle. I will keep getting back up. I will be pre…

I am now a regular contributor over at Black Girl Nerds! I am starting off talking about all things The Walking Dead!



Check out my latest now HERE!

Love and Light, 
 Faye

Facebooking is a spectator sport. We post to elicit laughter, empathy, sympathy and sometimes even envy.  It's the equivalent of taking a microphone into a crowd of semi-familiar faces and saying, "Hey! Look at me! Look at my life! It matters. I matter."  On Facebook, we aren't just someone's obscure memory. In my case, the girl in college with the bad choice in men and questionable shoe game.  And you, you aren't the boy with two left feet who couldn't get a date in high school.  We are reborn and reformed with the click of button into perfect manifestations of what our life could become.  The guy who got the girl.  The girl who got the job.  The couple that got the baby.  We are living, breathing individuals with thoughts and experiences and most importantly lives requiring acknowledgement and validation. Some lives are pristine and brilliant.  They glow and radiate the minute you hit 'enter'.  The career. The family. The house. The money.  The q…