Boston College Alumna with a bachelor’s degree in communications. She currently works at NBC 10 Boston as a host of The Hub Today.
She started working for NBC Universal in April of 2016 when she was hired as a Production Assistant for Comcast SportsNet New England (later renamed NBC Sports Boston). In December 2015 she completed a six-month apprenticeship at WBZ-TV, Boston’s CBS affiliate. This full-time experience at WBZ provided a rare opportunity to learn from reporters and producers in DMA #8 while also gaining valuable experience. While at Boston College she wrote for the Boston College SB Nation page, “BC Interruption.” Kwani was also a member of Boston College television’s sports show, The Talon, and the University’s sports radio station, WZBC 90.3.
Managing the Boston College women’s basketball team for three years gave her a lot of experience with the behind-the-scenes of a Division I team while also earning her a varsity letter.
In the fall of 2014, she worked at the New England Sports Network as a remote production intern for the Boston Bruins. During the summer of 2014, she interned at WEEI 93.7 sports radio Boston for the “Dennis and Callahan” morning show.
Professional affiliations include the National Association of Black Journalists and the Boston College Varsity Club.
Yesterday I tried to change my skin. I closed my eyes, squeezing out every ounce of light from my corneas, wishing I could peel off this brown bodysuit called melanin.
Maybe if we were all the same color we’d have no reason to hate. Right?
At 6 am I scroll through my Twitter timeline, as I usually do, when I fall upon a hashtag; #AltonSterling
I’ve seen a number of these viral videos in recent years:
I watched as Eric Garner cried “I can’t breathe” while NYPD officers held him in an illegal choke-hold.
I watched in North Charleston, South Carolina when an officer gunned down 50- year old Walter Scott was running for his life.
I watched an underage girl was dragged in her bathing suit in McKinney, Texas.
Oh yeah, and there was the other young girl, in Spring Valley, SC, viciously dragged out of her school desk for acting out in class.
…but this one was different. Like a dam with nothing left to give, I broke.
Twice in less than 24 hours I was reminded of a pain I had tried to forget. Between gun violence and law enforcement egoism, my thoughts are scrambled. My heart races at 90 beats per minute as I try to put into words how I feel, and all I can say is this:
I don’t want to close my eyes tonight. Maybe if I keep them open long enough, another life won’t be lost as I blink.
I can’t say with certainty why these men were murdered in cold blood. I can’t say that their encounters with those cops were without cause, but when will the senseless deaths come to an end?
When there is nothing but a pattern of black men and women being slaughtered, what else is one left to think? What if you woke up in fear that the next victim was the person you loved most?
They tell me this is a post-racial society. They say, “I don’t see color.” Hmmm. Is that to say that you’d rather not address the “brown” elephant in the room? Let’s just cut out the chapter about the taboo history of this land, a history that that expects us to instinctual hate our fellow man.
I have experienced firsthand what that hatred can do to one’s heart, and roots that deep take centuries to uproot.
I want no part of it.
Racism is very much alive, but we can all do our part to obliterate its remains for good. If you see this statement as false, then you are also a part of the problem.
“Keep your heart with all diligence, for out of it is the wellspring of life” Proverbs 4:23
Why don’t we just stop killing each other? Who are we to decide another’s length of time on this earth?
Please subscribe and re-blog this post to catch all the “Kwani’s Official Review” episodes once they drop! Like right now 😜 — It’s quick and easy, just click the link …
Please subscribe and re-blog this post to catch all the “Kwani’s Official Review” episodes once they drop! Like right now 😜 — It’s quick and easy, just click the link here, and BOOM! you’re done– My goal is 500 by Friday- Thanks for your support!
On one side of the Plexiglas you’ll find 12 men, on skates, smoothly cruising from one end of ice to the other. The announcers, rambling sweet nothings in the ears of their listeners while their broadcasts give the outside world a glimpse of what is happening. Both teams continue their attempt to knock the small rubber disk into a narrow box of netting and will let nothing get in their way. Thousand of people cheer these men along, and they barely have a care in the world.
A small distance off, down the hall, in an secluded corridor, there are 12 women with similar expertise. A smidgen of fans sit in uncomfortable bleachers, but the players expected this. They push with the same objective as the men, determined to give the onlookers a quality show. Despite the extreme differences in scenery, both of these teams are playing at the highest level of their sport:…
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”(Proverbs 3:5-6)
In one of my MANY encounters with financial aid I was told “if you can’t afford to be here, then maybe you and your family should look into alternative options”
Although those words discouraged me at the time, I am glad I didn’t give up. By the books it may seem impossible that I went to a school like Boston College, but with God there’s always a way. Yesterday I received a Bachelor’s degree in Communications and on June 1st will be starting my first job at WBZ TV- CBS Boston.
So yeah, Trust in the Lord with all your heart and he will see you through — and NEVER give up on your dreams!
On May 18th, 2015 I obtained a Bachelor’s degree from Boston College
No matter what your aspirations may be, there are many roads to success. Mentors are fine, and advice is even better, but at the end of the day we all have an individual journey to success.
There is no conventional path to a successful career in sports writing.The parody of a journalist’s life is that just like the stories they write, their career paths cannot compare to any other. Oftentimes younger journalists look to the advice of the experienced to guide them along the way, but there is only so much that one can be taught. Indeed there are technicalities that must be learned, but journalism is how one communicates to the world in a unique fashion.
One example is the journey of the now retired sports journalist, Steven Krasner. Krasner’s 33 year long career began in 1986 at the Providence Journal, spending 22 of those years covering the Red Sox.
Though there is no template for the life of a writer, it should be realized that a lot can be learned from those who have had successes in the field. When interacting with athletes, managers and coaches…
The following is what I posted on Facebook earlier today after a disheartening experience at a local restaurant near my university. I am not one to call a person a racist, sexist, or label someone in any way; but I can say that I was treated without respect last night and no one should ever feel the way I did as I walked out of that building.Without regard to race, gender, religion, et cetera. Everyone has the right to respect and that is not my friends and I were given
To all my AHANA students at Boston College please do not give your business to CitySide restaurant in Cleveland Circle. I have never been one to “play the race card” but me and three of my friends walked into the restaurant, sat at the empty bar, were refused service. We were told that the building was full to capacity (despite the empty tables) though we walked in with four other white people who were not kicked out. As he kicked us out, while threatening to call the police, he gave us a devilish smirk, spelled out his name [Anthony] and allowed 6 other white women to enter his establishment. I understand that discrimination cases are hard to prove, but I have never been treated as inhumanely as I was tonight. The saddest part of all was knowing that there was no “authority” I could call that would hear my case and defend me. This is the America I live in.
One person commented on this status saying that “…it is not a good look to cry wolf” to which I responded; “…Maybe I’m the crying wolf but hopefully this time someone hears it because in this country our cries have gone unheard for too long.”
Please join in the discussion. You can read the status and comments here.
Every morning the school bell would ring and there I would stand with my right hand on my heart:
“…One Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”
In my elementary school days, I would recite every word of this country’s mantra, proud to be a citizen of this great nation. Or so I thought. In recent days, that hand has become too heavy to hold up and my voice has grown weak.
I have never been the protesting type. In my mind, this country has never done me wrong, at least not directly, so I felt no reason to speak out.
Of course I learned about Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, Angela Davis, Mary McLeod Bethune, Ruby Bridges, Maya Angelou, Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, and all of the others, but yet it seems as though their labor were almost in vain.
The list of black men and women killed at the hands of white supremacy should cause this country to look in the mirror in shame. Do not get me wrong, there has been progress since that first slave ship landed on this land 395 years ago.
Michael Brown, Eric Garner, Oscar Grant, Ezell Ford,Rodney King, John Crawford, Aiyana Stanley, Sean Bell, Patrick Dorismond,Amadou Diallo, Corey M. Brown,DeAunta Terrel Farrow, Derrick Jones, Emmett Till, Guy Jarreau Jr., Jimmell Cannon, Kenneth Harding, Kiwane Carrington, Orlando Barlow, Ousmane Zongo, Ramarley Graham, Reginald Doucet, Rekia Boyd, Ronald Madison, Steven Eugene Washington, Tarika Wilson, Travares McGill, Victor Steen, Wendell Allen, Trayvon Martin, and that list goes on as well.
Me, Desiree Houston, Lakeisha St. Joy, and Jasmine Jemeison march in a non-violent protest at Boston College. Photo Cred: Emily Fahey/BC Heights
I have never been the protesting type, however I have always been an American. I was born and raised in this country, and it’s my constitution that ensure Liberty and Justice for ALL of its citizens. The blood, sweat, and tears of black men and women helped build this country into what it is today. I’m not asking for much. I don’t want 40 acres and a mule, because it’s a little late for that; I just want liberty and justice for those who share my complexion. And you know what hurts the most? The fact that I currently attend a liberal arts institution and am more vulnerable to this harassment than ever before. We call ourselves educated and yet we still have “colleagues” calling us thugs, gorillas and of course, good old-fashioned N——s.
I was not ever raised to be a victim, and I will not be one now, but something must be done. I am hurt by institutional racism. I am repulsed by black on black crime, but livid due to white on black violence as well. Most of all I am disappointed with the African-Americans of these “United” States. We have become so comfortable in this country that we forgot that respect is not given, but earned. There are so many factors to this argument, so many levels and complexities that I myself cannot wrap my head around it, but in the end we are all at fault for where this country is now.
“Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it”
Churchill was right, because history has taken a complete 360, and something must be done to break the cycle. I do not have answers, but the first step to change is unity on both sides. We must all realize where we have gone wrong and be willing to change.
Nowadays, I rarely hear the Pledge of Allegiance, but at sporting events (I watch a lot of those), I hear the national anthem:
“…O say does that star-spangled banner yet wave o’er the land of the free and the home of the brave?”
No it does not. But until it does my arms will lay at my sides, unable to hold the heart which once beat with pride for this country.
Share thoughts below.
Before this season, the humid, and muggy wetlands of Central Florida may not have seemed of much significance to BostonCollege football, but this is no longer the case.
Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, better known as “the Swamp”, is where former University of Florida quarterback, Tyler Murphy, began his college career. After earning a bachelor’s degree in telecommunications, Murphy had to decide where he would play his last year of eligibility. Meanwhile in Chestnut Hill, BC needed someone with experience to continue the momentum of their fairly successful previous season. It was decided that a match had been made and thus it was time for a change in climate.
The unique New England weather was nothing new for Murphy. A native of Wethersfield, Connecticut, Murphy grew up with his mother and a younger sister, who is currently attending college in upstate New York. Even after his parents split, the small clan has remained closely…
A convocation of eagles streamed from all four corners of the earth to meet at the central of the universe. Cameras were rolling from every angle to capture the beauty of the moment at hand: Boston College football had just beaten the number nine ranked team in the nation, the University of Southern California, 37-31.The downtrodden team had proved themselves in honor of Welles Crowther, a BC alum who lost his life saving others on September 11.
Players and students alike screamed, chanted, jumped, and even cried on the field as they celebrated the victory. Meanwhile, off to the side, number twenty one struggled to remove the medical tape from his hand so that he could give his second red bandanna glove to the starstruck youngster standing nearby.
A Cambridge, Massachusetts native, Manuel Asprilla grew up with his mother, older brother, and two younger sisters, all of whom he cares about with all of his heart. When asked…
I’m not exactly sure where the “Why I love Jesus” challenge came from but thanks Vanessa Omoroghomwan for the nomination: I love Jesus because the doctors said I should have died but I’m still alive and well 21 years later. I love him for the amazing parents that he had raise me and the amount of family and friends I have who love me. I love him because he still loves me despite my flaws. I am currently receiving a great education, and have had/ have great work/internship opportunities, because of his love.
To whom much is given much is expected and because of the love Jesus has given me I hope to show others that love from day to day. I now nominate Tamara Desruisseaux, Lakeisha StJoy, and Cusaj D Thomas. I’m giving you 24 hours.
For some it happens when the church bells have just sang their song throughout the town. For others the silence of their own solitude makes the loudest of declarations, while others sit patiently trying to figure this moment. They awaken from their slumber with a jolt as the realization hits them that “THIS” is their God given purpose. For me it was when I started writing this post:
One hour into my typing I had the ingenious idea to save what I had been so thoughtfully creating. Only there was a problem; due to a glitch in cyberspace only the first line had been saved, and there I found my self starting again from the beginning:
From the tiny papers I used to pass notes with in elementary school, to the plethora of PTA meetings where my teachers would say “She’s a smart kid, but she talks a lot” writing has always defined me. To this day I still think those teachers were wrong. I had learned that the word “but” was used to introduce a contradicting statement, and yet I always thought that speech was our way of sharing the thoughts and knowledge that pass though out minds. The very place created to expand my horizons attempted to limit who I was, “a giver of words”.
Peer-pressured snickers arose from my lips as my 7th grade English teacher suggested we all submit a poem for a contest submission. It was corny at the moment, but I later realized that there was no strain to produce a work of art through simple consonants and Vowels. I had enjoyed creating the work, just as much as I enjoyed the teacher announcing to the class that I was now a published poet with Creative Communications publishing company.
As gallons of ink flowed from my heart, poetry is what kept me sane through the hardest moments of my life.
When my mouth could not express what my heart felt, written emotions are what helped me to write a love letter to my first love.
The day my youngest brother was born, my closest companion since kindergarten moved away and the “postage stamped envelope” helped me keep in contact with her before the internet had fully developed.
From the very first time I wrote my name, up to these words that will ring through your mind, I realize there isn’t ONE moment.
With each movement of the ticking clock we must strive to move forward. When we give one moment precedence over the rest, we cheat ourselves from seeing the beauty of each piece of the big puzzle. This past weekend I was asked, “When did you know this was what you wanted to do?” I was first ashamed for having not thought it through, but my many moments have brought me to the epiphany I share at hour.
This is my defibrillator. My heart has been bestirred. As I reach my third hour in this seat I realize that this is the passion God has instilled in me, to write. My moment has come.
While texting a friend today I said, “our planes are God’s punch lines”, a phrase I had heard once or twice before. The spell check didn’t correct my typo of “plans”, and yet the phrase still held strong meaning. He asked me what it meant, and though I knew the meaning, I had never taken the time to put it into the perspective of my own life and decisions. I then responded with a thought to the extent that “We as humans have a strong control complex which causes us to feel the need to plan every part of our lives and make timelines, when in reality God already knows what is going to happen and he just chuckles”. It is safer to know.
The unknown is the frightening concept of “that which we have no control over”. Everyone wants to be successful and rich, but just as Joel Osteen explained in a podcast I listened to today, you have to “be comfortable with who you are”. No we don’t know where we are supposed to end up, but if we do not start heading there then we may be in turn limiting someone else’s destiny. Teachers do not necessarily get paid the largest of checks, but where would our doctors, lawyers, engineers, and scientists be without one to guide them in the right direction. You told yourself when you “make it big” you will donate money to charities, but what if you are instead called to volunteer in a foreign country and through a non-profit organization help rebuild their infrastructure. We all have gifts and talents that we are called to use whether in a capacity that is big or small. When I was younger I thought that just because I could sing, I was supposed to become a gospel singer, but that was not it. If in my lifetime I sing only one song that touches one heart and I never get any praise or recognition, it is still worth it because my reward is not of this world, but from above.
So why should the chicken cross the road? Of course the Chicken is scared, [pun intended] and has no clue as to what will happen in the time it takes to get from one side to the other, but one thing it can boast in, is that though afraid it continued its journey. God’s punchlines are all in good humor, but why not laugh with him in knowing that his joy is your strength (Neh 8:10) and that he knows the plans that he has for you are of good and not evil (Jer. 29:11). So go ahead and continue crossing the road, because in the end you’re doing it for one reason. To get to the other side with Christ.
Great grandma. Oh yes, a great grandmother she was; and mother and aunt and friend, but she was my GREAT grandma. We called her Gran. *insert Haitian accent*
As I sit in my bed knowing my only class tomorrow is cancelled. My mind wanders off to this amazing woman and as I recall my memories with her it brings tears to my eyes. The first set of tears since her funeral. Now it’s not so much the pain of losing her, but the greater pain of not embracing every moment I could have had with her. I’m the oldest of her great grandchildren and she even lived with me and my family for a few years after my birth. I was able to have her the most, and it helped that she was one of the few people in this world to understand me. Ironic indeed because we never fluently spoke the same language. I taught her English and she taught me Haitian Creole. I remember one time being so proud of her because she had counted to ten in English. I was so young and such a good ESL teacher.
I got into so much trouble as a child, and I couldn’t even tell you why. The many beatings she could have given me or had my parents give me, and yet I remember clear as day doing something bad one day and worrying all day that she would tell my parents. When they got home it was as if nothing had happened and there I had been stressing. The anxiety had been punishment enough. She was so patient with me giving me a different kind of love that was on a whole new level. She moved back with my grandparents and eventually back to Haiti, but every time I did see her she was a breath of life despite her declining health. She was a soldier, never wanting us to see her at her weakest. As I think back to the last few times I saw her, it breaks my heart. Young and foolish the least I could have done was just sit with her even if she could barely see me or speak to me, but yet I was always running off to be with everyone else watching TV wasting time on things I still have a lifetime to do …
My Gran is the closest family I’ve lost in my 20 years, but what hurts the most; The thing I will never understand is how of the 365 days in a year, how she ended up dying on the day of my 20th birthday … I don’t believe in coincidences when I can believe in God, but what exactly does it mean? My pastor always says give the living flowers, they mean nothing when they’re dead. If I knew then what I know now …. I would have sat, listened, and learned. Sat by her side, listened to her story, and learned. I don’t want to have regrets because it’s too late now, but I don’t want to ever let her down again. 1 out of 365 odds are I won’t see this great woman soon, since I have a great legacy to uphold, but odds are I will strive to live the example she modeled for exactly 20 years of my life. Appreciate all whom you love while you still have them. Be sure to Sit, Listen, and Learn, because time is the most precious gift you can give; trust me, you don’t have that much of it. When they leave make them proud by representing their life legacies through your own life. — I love you Gran Alcine. See you in heaven, but ’til then I’ll make you proud. ❤
Kwani 