For those of us with student loans, we were given a false promise of financial stability when we took them out. We should find ways to organize around this issue, especially considering that student loan debt disproportionately impacts Black borrowers. We carry almost 1/4 of the nation's student loan debt, even though we only represent 13% of the population. My hope is that we organize outside of electoral politics, because that is not the end all be all. We need mutual aid and solidarity.

Roosevelt Institute report on Black borrowers: https://rooseveltinstitute.org/blog/how-the-student-debt-crisis-disproportionately-harms-black-borrowers/?gad_source=1&gad_campaignid=22620580786&gbraid=0AAAAADrzfJ53mAlIMxX9FtVxZTOQa05RJ&gclid=Cj0KCQjwyr3OBhD0ARIsALlo-OlpvCU9pT9VwABtnLfXoJ2sqs4LYDhIn0cjZ50ZF7UIrbaIsJg7nusaAlVZEALw_wcB

Student loan organizations:

Student debt crisis center

Strike debt

Protect Borrowers

Edited by: Kenya Hunter

Theme song: Performed by Kenya’s family. Created and mixed by DeVision Dev.

This week’s topics:

1. Afroman won his lawsuit

2. Jack Harlow ‘got Blacker’

3. Huda — why did you go to that girl’s house???

Thanks for listening!!

Host: Kenya Hunter

Edited by: Deonte Ray

Theme song performed by Rev. Dr. Phyllis Thornton and Fabeanne Collins. Mixed by: Devision Dev

Host: Kenya Hunter

Edited by: Deonte Ray

Theme song: performed by Fabeanne Collins and Phyllis Thornton. Created by Devision Dev.

Host: Kenya Hunter

Edited by: Deonte Ray

Theme song: performed by Fabeanne Collins and Phyllis Thornton. Produced by @/deviantdev

Edited by: Deonte Ray

Rest in love Miss Virginia Ray ❤️

1. Why did Jeff Bezos do that to the Washington Post?

2. Why was Mike Tyson chomping on those apples like that during the Superbowl?

3. What the hell is a DL Whisperer and why are y’all donating to his go fund me?

Thanks for listening!!!

Follow me:

@FinallyICanTalk on IG and TikTok!! Subscribe on Substack: www.finallyicantalk.com

thank you for listening! Share the pod with someone you know!

on today’s episode, I unpack how predictable Nicki Minaj’s turn to MAGA actually was, ICE’s presence in Minneapolis, and some other things!

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I’ve spent the last few years doing such. Like when I got into a relationship with my current partner, I was always like “damn, what if we break up?” And whenever I would get a new job, I would be like, “damn, what if I get laid off?”

And I ALWAYS used to despise when I would grieve the end of a thing, and someone would tell me that there’s something better on the other side. Because I didn’t always believe that to be true.

If you’ve been reading my Substack, you’ll know that today, Sept. 19, 2025 is my last day at The Associated Press. Coincidentally, it’s also the sixth anniversary of my mother’s death from breast cancer. When I say that out loud, it sounds like a collision of grief: one of the hardest days of my life repeating itself on the same day I leave a job that is supposed to be the pinnacle of my dreams.

But honestly, I’ve been looking at endings so differently. I don’t feel like something is ending. I feel like I just completed something.

In numerology and spiritual practice, the number 9 represents completion, though not finality – more like the end of one cycle so you can begin the next journey.

This is how I know that endings can absolutely be divine. On September 9, 2025 (9/9/2025 with 2+0+2+5 = 9, so 9/9/9), I closed the door on my childhood home. This is the house that I’ve lived in since I was a baby, and getting rid of it was a big part of the grief of losing my mom.

I remember walking in the house on Tuesday, sitting in my bedroom and crying. It was the first time I had ever seen that room so empty – I remember my crib being in that room when I was a baby, and crying for my mom when I woke up. I remember the set of twin beds that I shared with my stepsister who came over every other weekend, creating some of my favorite childhood memories. I also remember the bunk beds I got as a teenager because my grandmother and my great aunt needed my twin beds.

But I had never seen the room empty.

I sat in the middle of this room and mourned every version of myself. Baby Kenya. Kenya the budding writer. Kenya who dreamed of having a talk show like Oprah. The Kenya who scrolled on Twitter and learned about what happened to Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown in this room. This room developed the Kenya who wanted to work at a place like The Associated Press. And she did it, knowing her mother is smiling down on her in heaven. She knew I could do it.

And both of these portals shut at once. The physical portal that is my childhood home is no longer mine, and I completed the highest stage of my childhood dream. Like … I really worked at the place that created the AP Stylebook. And I wrote about Black people in that place!

It feels like God is saying that I don’t need these childhood anchors anymore. I’ve carried them as far as they can take me. Now, it’s time for new dreams that belong to the woman I’ve become. I’ve become a woman who knows freedom, who knows love and is determined to build her own foundation.

These endings are not losses. They are divinely timed and sacred completions.

“Better is the end of a thing than its beginning.” – Ecclesiastes 7:8.

When I first started Finally, I Can Talk, it was just a space for me to put thoughts into the world. As a legacy journalist, writing freely is something I seldom get to do, and I have so much to say.

I feel that I live as a walking oxymoron, at times. I’m a fiercely opinionated person working in journalism — a field where an opinion is typically treated as a liability instead of a strength. I am also a neurodivergent Black woman journalist working in a white, male dominated field. With that, not only is my opinion shunned out of fear of “blurring the lines,” but my very being exists right on this “blurred” line.

And while it’s tiring, I wouldn’t trade being a Black journalist for anything. We are some of the best in the business, and I know that so many of us have a dream of being released from the shackles that is the Black existence in a legacy newsroom. That’s what I’ve been thinking about as I near the end of my time at my current newsroom. Black journalists spend a lot of time thinking about who we can’t be. We can’t be opinionated, we can’t be loud, we can’t be too proud of being Black, we can’t be angry, we can’t be advocates. But for the first time in my life, I have the option of thinking about who I can be, and what this space, Finally I Can Talk, can be.

I’ve thought about a few things. Maybe I’ll talk about reality TV on here? Or maybe I’ll just start going to different local council meetings in the Atlanta area and get back to my roots as a journalist out in the streets. I’ve also wondered: how can I get to a place in my career where I stop pretending to be neutral but still do the work of journalism?

The way journalism defines neutrality is flat, two dimensional, and not built for people like me. It gets flattened to this: where if you have an opinion on something that doesn’t match the majority, you’re an advocate (a dog whistle for journalists of color, mind you) for policies that some deem dangerous. If you agree with the majority, then the minority sees you as a threat. Either way, you’re not to be trusted as a reporter because you “let your opinion show.”

That’s the box that I’ve been shapeshifting in for the last six years. It may be time to accept that I’ve outgrown the box and I need to step outside of it.

What if I could just do what I want as a journalist? What if I can go out, be clear that I want to go to city council meetings, State House hearings, protests and more — report on what I saw, shared my perspective through the lens of my lived experience, and still listen deeply? have a perspective on what’s happening, but still be open to listening to everyone? What if my existence as a Black woman who cares about collective liberation wasn’t treated as bias, but as truth? What if I could talk about politics one day and female rappers the next, because my life has always had room for both?

What if I didn’t need a “niche” at all? What if I am the niche — and I could pay all my bills by being it?

That’s what I’ve been thinking. Over the past few days, I’ve been figuring out how I can make this possible. I’m met with lots of tensions in my life — I want to build an authentic brand that I can sustain myself on. That takes money and sacrifices to do — but I’m losing my only income while trying to build up another. It’s a lot … but I guess we don’t do this work for the money. We do it because it’s necessary, and we figure out how to sustain ourselves afterward.

Watch this space … something is coming.

There are a lot of cliche quotes that have been resonating with me these last few weeks since I learned I wouldn’t be retained on a contract for my current employer. One of those cliche’s is “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

I’ve been a journalist for close to six years now, and as tumultuous as the industry has been, I’ve never faced a layoff or been fired from any position. So when I took a temporary, two-year job as a public health reporter at a legacy publication, I remember feeling an alarm in my system about it. “What if the funding runs dry? What if they don’t want you anymore? What if … what if … what if …” There was nowhere to go after that but off the edge of a cliff, but surely I would be able to figure out something in two years.

So now here I am at the end of that two years. I’m not being retained, and I’m more than devastated about it. I am fearful of this job market where I see “more than 100 people applied” on a job posting that’s only been up for three days. I am nervous to figure out how I’ll get my ADHD and anxiety treatment. Or how I’ll get my hair retwisted. Or meet some of my basic needs. Or go to therapy.

I do know that I want to do something different. I don’t want to let fear and uncertainty keep me from moving forward.

I have about six more weeks until I’m done at my current job, and I’m not sure what I want to do next. I’ve had dreams of being someone else – an entrepreneur, a talk show host or an influencer. But for the last six years of my journalism career, I’ve simply stuck to what is safe so I can have health insurance. I want to do work that helps people, which is why I started building my doula practice, The Maternal Bridge. But even that feels so uncertain.

So this newsletter, as it stands now, will be a documentation of Kenya Hunter building her dream life. Finally, I can Talk, is my attempt to live a life where I can be my authentic self without compromise. This newsletter doesn’t have a structure right now. I just needed to start it. I’m sure that structure will eventually come together, but for right now, this is it!

How I’m avoiding getting stuck

We all know job searching can be stressful and sometimes discouraging. As an ADHD girl, I’m someone who needs a routine to remain grounded and focused. So here are some nonnegotiables I’m requiring myself to meet daily, weekly and monthly.

Maintaining my gym split:

I’ve been on a few fitness journeys in recent years, but they’ve been difficult to maintain. Between big life changes, like my cat dying, my boyfriend moving to Atlanta, losing friends to conflict and death and debilitating anxiety, the gym can feel like less of a priority.

I’ll eventually write about this, but in the last few years, I’ve gained nearly 40 lbs. And gaining weight doesn’t scare me – I’m aware that I’m a woman who is close to my thirties and that my body changes. What alarmed me was that it took months for me to notice that my body was changing so significantly. If I had kept going on with life the way I was – eating the most convenient fast food, not moving my body or making an effort to touch grass, my health was going to be at risk. I remember going up a set of stairs once in 2023 and I couldn’t understand why I could barely catch my breath! And that just isn’t how I want to live my life.

So I’ve been making efforts to make sure that no matter what is happening in my life, even if it’s extremely difficult to push through, I must go to the gym and move my body. I’m about to be 30, yes, but I just don’t see why my knees need to start popping so soon in life.

Every day, I must do one thing that gets me closer to making money:

Growing up, I’ve always been focused on getting and keeping a job because that’s what we’re taught, right? Get you a job with some benefits and you’ll be ok for the rest of your life. That job will take care of you.

Yeah … I think I’m past that era of my life. Like, yes, I think a job is good! Great, even! But for the last two years, I’ve been waiting to hear whether or not my job – or my only stream of income – will keep making sure that I’m stable in life. And I just don’t think I ever want to be in this position again. I don’t ever want to be waiting on a company to decide whether or not I will have health insurance or if I’ll have the ability to meet my basic needs. So instead of being focused on getting a job, I am changing my thought process to income.

That means that I can do a variety of things to get closer to making money. That can be making a networking call to someone in an organization I can partner with, or making a social media graphic for my doula business. It can also mean applying for jobs or taking advantage of personal development opportunities that will make my business stronger. At the end of the day, I do not only want one stream of income. I need more, and I’m following the money from now on.

Being kind, gentle and patient with myself

I can be honest and say that I’ve been dealing with a wave of emotions in the last few weeks. I have never been on the way out of a job without another one lined up, and I’m nervous. I cry a LOT. But this is the thing – there have been times where I’ve let my feelings keep me from meeting my other nonnegotiables. If I cry, that means the gym isn’t happening. If I cry right before I start filling out a job application, that means I’m putting that job application to the side.

On one hand, tears aren’t going to form a river that leads me to monetary opportunities. On the other hand, I need to cry. So I’ve been giving myself some time to cry, while also accepting that sometimes I may just have to cry while I’m writing a cover letter. Or I may have to let the tears fall while I’m putting on my gym clothes. Then once I get to bed, I can cry until I fall asleep!

Question: what are some things you’ve done to remain grounded during a transitional period in your life? Inbox me or leave a comment to give me some ideas!

Leave a comment

Ok so last thing — I’ve always wanted to start a podcast, and I’m thinking of starting it here. Would you listen? Your feedback is so vital here!

A few weeks ago, I turned 29. For the last year of my twenties, I made myself a promise:

I’m going to do whatever I want.

One thing I’ve always wanted to do is have a space where I write and say whatever I want, however I want. So here it is. This is my “whatever I want.” A public diary. It’s a little messy, pretty measured, and very sacred.

This is Finally, I can Talk — launching the Friday after Juneteenth.

If you’ve ever had to hold your tongue to survive or keep the peace, you’ll feel me. Subscribe so you’ll see the launch!!! If you want to support me extra, please become an early pledger!

Welcome to the second edition of Kenya’s Corner, where I share the things I’m thinking about, my latest ADHD fixations and the stories I’ve been reading.

In today’s newsletter, I wrote about how Doechii’s GRAMMYs speech moved me to tears and I share an herbal tea recipe.

DOECHII’S MESSAGE TO LOUD BLACK GIRLS

I’ve had the same five to seven songs in rotation for years, and it’s rare for me to add new music to my rotation. My attention span is just waaaayyy too short (shout out to the Black girls with ADHD) to give a song more than 17 seconds to catch my interest, and I would rather listen to the same exact songs for the remainder of my life than make my brain pay attention to something new.

But Doechii, the female MC behind this eclectic, explosive and electrifying mixtape, ALLIGATOR BITES NEVER HEAL, caught my attention — and she held it. Her beats are jerky and unpredictable, yet they fit with her words like the pieces of a puzzle. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a celebrity on my screen that I felt understood by, even though she’s never met me and I’ve never met them. The last time I felt like that was when I would watch True Jackson, VP with KeKe Palmer (we’re really friends in my head) — for other people I usually just don’t feel connected to them.

I feel even more disconnected from awards shows like The GRAMMYs. Every year, it seems like the same artists whose music I don’t listen to get the same awards, and Black music enthusiasts find themselves annoyed that their favorite Black artist was snubbed in the Song of the Year, Album of the Year and Record of the Year (which … what is the difference between SOTY and ROTY? Please???).

But again, Doechii changed my mind. She caught my attention and she held it during her speech when she became the third woman to win Best Rap Album. Toward the end of her speech, it became so clear why I feel so understood and represented by her.

“Don’t allow anybody to project stereotypes on you that tell you that you can’t be here,” she said, pleading to Black girls and women during her acceptance speech. “That you’re too dark, or that you’re not smart enough or that you’re too dramatic or you’re too loud.”

The conviction in my heart came when she added:

“You are exactly who you need to be.”

When I think about the representation that Black girls and women get in media, they very often tell us that a Black woman’s best qualities are confident, well put together, accomplished and poised. It’s like there’s a level of perfection required to be a Black woman who is loved by all — no scandals, no drama and perhaps no words, especially if they are ebonic and cultural words.

But then Doechii…

Her satirical spin about an imperfect relationship that ended with infidelity (DENIAL IS A RIVER) ended up being her first entry on Billboard. Her album run where she detailed her imperfect life in interviews so vulnerably — talking about her dedication to sobriety and bearing some of the deepest parts of her life — it catapulted her to the damn GRAMMYs. Doechii is part of a rare group of dark skinned Black girls who made it being their full authentic self, where she isn’t hiding behind an image of perfection.

I strive for this. I’m a big personality. You can probably hear me walking down a hallway boisterously laughing on the phone. If I drop a pen, I gasp loudly and put my hands over my mouth when I do it. Just about every opinion I have comes out of my mouth and never stays in my brain. With this big personality came the understanding that I might have to shrink it because no one was going to make room for me — I would have to figure out how to fit into rooms I rightfully belong in.

I get exhausted from it because I am too big to make small. I am too loud to shush. I am too fun to have people frowning around me. I am too bright to accept and live in darkness.

Doechii’s speech may have been impromptu, or she may have practiced it in the mirror years ago when she envisioned herself on the GRAMMYs stage. Regardless, I know it moved me and Black girls everywhere.

Too Dramatic. Too Loud. Too Dark.

This week’s fixation: Valerian Root Sleepy Time Iced Tea

Ok so I have always been so interested in what the things outside of my body can do to the inside of my body. Like when I go into the part of the grocery store where all the vitamins and herbal teas are, I’m just in awe that there are so many little substances that (allegedly) do all this cool stuff for your body. Why wouldn’t I want to chew two gummy worms that will increase my serotonin levels and put me in a great mood? Why would I not spray lavender all over my room to help me get a good night’s sleep.

Lately. I’ve been having lots of fun making different bedtime teas with herbs like chamomile, lavender and my newest obsession, valerian root. I have a valerian root iced tea recipe that I’m excited to share! Before you try it, make sure you look up Valerian Root and determine if it’s safe for you to take.

Valerian root is this herb that can help you sleep and is said to treat anxiety. When I drink a cup of it, it’s like I fall into a different dimension of sleep that even sleep researchers may not know about. I really enjoy using it in my wind down period and there’s only one downside to it — Valerian root smells like feet.

Once you get past it, it’s all good, but here’s the recipe!

Ingredients:

1 cup brewed valerian root tea, 2 teaspoons of brown sugar and 1/3 cup milk of your choosing. I usually use oat milk.

Instructions:

1. Brew the tea! This is iced tea, so I usually brew mine well before bed time and put it in the fridge. But if you don’t have time, you can brew a valerian tea bag in 1/2 a cup of water and pour it over ice.

2. Stir in the brown sugar

3. Add your milk on top and stir.

4. ENJOY!

This edition’s affirmation is brought to you by Kendrick Lamar.

See y’all next time.

Note: some or all of the images in this newsletter were created with artificial intelligence. Others were photographed or designed by me, Kenya Hunter.

Love is one of my favorite things to talk about. I’m obsessed with love, as a verb and an adjective. Whether it’s the love I have for my friends, or me pondering how I apply love to my job, it’s the center of happiness for me. But romantic love is one of the things that is the trickiest for me, and I think that has to do with media representations of people who look like me – Black women – when they look for love. 

When I first sat down to watch Season 4 of Love is Blind, I was expecting more of the same. I expected the Black women to be booted off pretty early, and we wouldn’t learn their names. If a Black woman *did* make it out engaged, I wasn’t expecting the relationship to last very long. If it did, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was forced to accept a certain level of disrespect and compromise (looking at you, Jarrett from Season 3) that the non-Black women didn’t really have to deal with. 

But then came Tiffany Pennywell, who partnered with Brett Brown after they got out of the Pods. I’m sure many of us Love is Blind superfans found ourselves in awe at how different Tiffany and Brett felt from other Black couples who make their way onto these reality television shows. 

The first time I ever saw Black women looking for “love” on television was the VH1 reality show, Flavor of Love. The show was a ratchet version of the Bachelorette, but a cultural game changer. I remember being in the single digit ages watching the show at my dad’s house (because my sanctified mother definitely wasn’t going to let me) in awe at the revealing outfits, the loud conflict, and the fact that there were beautiful young women who were actually fighting for rapper Flavor Flav’s affection. 

Now that I’m older and actually serious about the role romantic love plays in my life, it’s mortifying to me that the purpose of the show wasn’t really to inspire other Black people to find love – the purpose for the audience was comedy. 

It was funny to watch VH1’s Tiffany Pollard, more affectionately known as New York, go back and forth with Deelishis and other girls on the seasons, in deep desire for Flavor Flav’s affection. It’s funny to watch more than ten Black women go into the kitchen and see who can cook the best meal for Flavor Flav (Hottie attempting the chicken in the microwave was funny, but that is beside the. 

But things like that aren’t tests for true love, they’re tests to see who wants Flav the most, and who would be the best at serving Flav, with no thought to what the Black women seeking his love needed from him. 

When you put this in the context of what happens for Black women when trying to seek romantic love in real life, it becomes more infuriating and discouraging. It’s well known that Black women are seen as the least desirable on dating apps. But not only this, we’re the only group of people that has a higher divorce rate than marriage rate, and we’re less likely to marry someone who matches our education level (which feels like another conversation about student loan debt because at what cost?!). 

These facts, along with media depictions of our hopelessness in looking for love can easily be discouraging. I know it has discouraged me in the past.

It’s why I found myself so encouraged by Tiffany Pennywell. Tiffany came onto Love is Blind as her full self, and I loved her from the time I saw her on the television. She has a story of many Black women I know – 36 years old, successful in her own career, and looking for someone to share that life with, while also refusing to settle in her search. 

She was a breath of fresh air from what we saw on Perfect Match, where even a fine rich bitch like Anne-Sophie couldn’t be taken seriously (I will never forgive Netflix for making me think Colony and Anne-Sophie would have lots of camera time on the show only to “Strong Black Woman” them out of the show!) 

We deserve more of the gentle love that Tiffany got from Brett Brown. We deserve comfort when we’re stressed out about wedding planning. We deserve the feeling of certainty you get when someone you’re falling for is clear about their intentions with you in the ways that Brett was with Tiffany. We deserve gentleness, tenderness, and a place to cry and let our guards down. 

The scene I was particularly struck by in Love is Blind, was when Tiffany found herself stressed out about wedding planning. She said she didn’t want a wedding, which made my heart drop considering how much I’ve been rooting for Brett and Tiffany. Brett, upset by seeing Tiffany cry, surprised her with a display of these beautiful photos he took of her. The point was so she could see herself through his eyes. 

While this might feel small, the gentleness is what got me. I often think of bell hooks’ six ingredients of love: care, commitment, responsibility, respect, knowledge, and trust. Yes, it’s TV, so we don’t really know if Brett and Tiffany have all six of these ingredients down in real life, but I do think their story is the closest we’ve gotten to seeing a Black woman be loved wholly and fully in this reality tv world.

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What I’m Reading

Black Family’s Baby taken

Right before Black Maternal Health Week, a Black family in Texas had their baby taken from them by Child Protective Services. The family had a home birth. When their newborn daughter, Mila, developed a case of jaundice (which is very common for babies), they opted to take their midwife’s advice to treat it at home instead of taking the baby into the pediatrician. That pediatrician called child protective services, and the family hasn’t had custody of their baby.

The story here makes me wonder about how Black women have been taking our abysmal maternal health outcomes into our own hands by hiring doulas and having home births assisted by midwives. What happens when we decide to do things our own way, defying a health system that feels dangerous for us to seek treatment in?

Read Refinery29’s Unbothered piece on it here.

Brian Kemp vs. Donald Trump

Is Brian Kemp trying to curb a second Donald Trump Presidency? Some would say he attempted to do just that when he told fellow Republicans at the National Republican Convention in Nashville to keep focused on the prize: the White House. As the 2024 election shapes up, Kemp told his colleagues that people in Georgia wouldn’t vote for a nominee focused on the 2020 election.

Georgia, my home state, made national headlines in 2020 when it chose a Democratic nominee for the first time in decades, voting for Joe Biden over Donald Trump. Trump, incensed by the loss, tried to pressure state officials, including Kemp, to overturn the results. He might end up facing an indictment because of it.

Read Greg Bluestein’s analysis of Kemp’s move here.

Also, wtf is this?

Sorry! I’m Kenya, a journalist based in Atlanta, my hometown. I was trying to think of other ways to reach my audience as social media seems to be crashing down. So this is just my little corner of the internet where I can do what I want. I’m really mostly interested in politics, Black people, and Black women’s empowerment and wellness. I hope you’ll continue to love it here.

You may see some of my skate videos here, too! And pictures of my cat. Like this one!

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