Hillari Hunter
Bio
I likes to write about many topics. In a past life, I was an unappreciated office support employee, and I was a boxing coach. I have sung in church choirs and in nightclubs. I'm speaking up and out more and using my age as an excuse.
Stories (17)
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Gentrification Blues. Top Story - January 2018.
My late father criticized me when I moved out of the neighborhood where he and my late stepmother lived. “That building probably has graffiti on the walls,” Dad grumbled. Yet the rent in the new place was way less expensive than the rent I had been paying. My dad and stepmother could afford to pay the high price of living in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the city. They relished rubbing elbows with the well-heeled. I had grown tired of dealing with the area’s elitist climate, and I wanted to live in an area with real people. I found a neighborhood where people leaned out of their windows to wave to their friends. Kids giggled as they ran down the street in packs to get to their next adventure. Mom-and-pop stores were the norm.
By Hillari Hunter8 years ago in The Swamp
I Slapped The Pastor
Everyone was pleased with the new pastor, whom I’ll refer to as Tim (not his real name) at first. The new pastor was younger, preached in a style that made the congregation pay attention, encouraged people to refer to him by his first name. Tim was full of ideas that people hoped would help revive a decades-old neighborhood church that needed to grow. We all were drawn to him and we wanted to help.
By Hillari Hunter8 years ago in Viva
Being Black, Female, and Childfree
All I did was say that I needed to use the one computer in the office designated for staff use. My co-worker turned my request into an attack on her and her pre-school aged child who were eating lunch at the desk the computer sat on. She told me that she knew I didn’t like kids, but I had no right to be rude to her and her kid. “I didn’t think I was being rude, but if you thought that, I’m sorry,” I told her. I could have brought up the fact that her kid had an open container of BBQ sauce and a soda dangerously next to the computer’s keyboard. I could have pointed out that there were other places in the building where they could have eaten. The weather was nice enough that they could have had lunch outside. I didn’t go there. She grabbed her kid – whom she had a habit of bringing to work with her most days -- and stalked off.
By Hillari Hunter8 years ago in Viva
But I Might Break a Nail
I was training in a boxing gym where there was only one other woman beside me. She and I never had the pleasure of sparring with each other, but we had no qualms about facing the guys in the ring. Eventually, two more women joined the class. They arrived ready with headgear, hand wraps, and a couple of pairs of very expensive looking boxing gloves. The women were also dressed in the most popular style of workout fashion and wearing makeup. The coach expected everyone to spar, and when he brought that up to those two, their eyes widened in terror. “We actually have to hit people?” they said. They never came back to the gym. They had been there less than two weeks.
By Hillari Hunter8 years ago in Viva
