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Donna Britt Featured on Oprah.com
As Featured in O Magazine"10 Titles to Pick Up Now" As Featured in Essence
Watch an interview with Tavis Smiley
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Donna Britt has always been surrounded by men-her father, three brothers, two husbands, three sons, countless friends. She learned to give to them at an early age. But after her beloved brother Darrell's senseless killing by police 30 years ago, she began giving more, unconsciously seeking to help other men the way she couldn't help Darrell. Brothers (& Me) navigates Britt's life through her relationships with men... Read More> |
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![]() 'Tis the season of giving, and anyone who has read Brothers (and me): A Memoir of Loving and Giving knows that I'm painfully aware of how relentlessly women give of themselves every day. Like many women, I teeter between honoring my giving—I mean, who wants a world without women's generosity and support?—and wishing I could put a lid on it. But the problem isn't that women give too much. It's that we don't give mindfully. It's thoughtless giving that depletes and frustrates us. Yet most of us have no intention of stopping our giving—especially at Yuletide. So in the spirit of the holiday, I'll for the next 25 days give in to the giving impulse that's all too natural to me. Each day until Christmas, I'll offer a different mindful gift: to students, seniors, friends, total strangers, even to myself. Some may be corny (you saw my Santa hat!), others serious, a few poignant, all heartfelt. Some gifts may be unappreciated, but hey; it's the thought that counts—or that's the idea. Brothers (and me) described my journey from questioning to celebrating my giving. My goal now is to demonstrate that mindful giving expands the giver regardless of how the gift is received. But real life is unpredictable, so stay tuned as I test my theory while blogging—frankly, honestly--about each weekday's gift and what emerges. Thanks for joining me in loving and giving this Christmas.
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Beasts of the Southern Wild’s tiny star: It’s all in her name
Days after she taught me how to pronounce it, I still find myself saying the child’s name, just to hear the singular exoticness of it: “Quevenszhane’.” The first time I saw the first name belonging to the youngest-ever Best Actress Oscar nominee in a review of the acclaimed film “Beasts of the Southern Wild,” it stopped me in my tracks. Quevenszhane’? Trying to break it down phonetically, I finally gave up in frustration, thinking, “Nah, too hard.” But I hate giving up on anything, so at a recent screening of “Beasts” sponsored by the Center for American Progress, I asked the name’s young owner—who was on a panel with “Beasts” director Ben Zeitlin and producer Dan Janvey—how I should say it. With a polite “Here we go again” look, the tiny star grabbed the microphone. “Kwa,” she began, waiting for me to repeat it. I did. “Vahn. Zsa [as in Zsa Zsa Gabor]. Nay.” Putting the sounds together, I said it aloud: “Quevenszhane’.” Hearing it, I found myself charmed by its musicality, and by the very uniqueness that had irked me. Because it’s just the kind of name an exceptional kid like this deserves. Normal nine-year-olds don’t earn Oscar nods. Typical third graders don’t carry entire Best Picture-nominated films on their narrow shoulders. This little girl’s accomplishments are extraordinary–so I was surprised that with her hair pinned back and her hands clutching a plush-toy puppy purse, the child who at age five beat 600 other hopefuls for the role of “Beasts”’ resilient heroine looks like a regular kid.
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