Raina Kelley

Why 'The New York Times' 'Of Color' guide isn't racist.

Why it's OK to hate celebrity wannabes. Just don't pigeonhole them.

My four-point plan for a simpler holiday.

Dear All Famous Men Who Cheat on Their Wives and Then Plead for Understanding, Privacy, and Compassion:Just yesterday morning, I wrote 900 words in defense of Tiger Woods and that ridiculous car crash in front of his house.

Is anyone else just the tiniest bit grossed out by the current public fascination surrounding Tiger Woods? I like a good celebrity implosion as much as the rest of you, but this seems like too much speculation to me.

OK, maybe it's not for dummies, but a new book makes giving really, really easy.

Unless you've been in solitary confinement, you're aware of the fact that Belle de Jour, blogger, former prostitute, and head of the Diary of a London Call Girl publishing empire has revealed herself to be Dr.

By now, news has reached the blogosphere that Emma Thompson has asked to remove her name from the online petition in support of Roman Polanski.  (Remember him?  He's the famous director who was convicted of unlawful sexual contact with a minor.)  Turns out that one of her fans had the courage to ask her to reconsider her support of Polanski.  Well now, I feel stupid.  I too was heartbroken that Thompson had signed the petition.

She's illiterate, fat, abused, and lonely. But that's only half the story.

The surprising roots of homicide.

Why I'm fighting the decline of respect.

Why local officials shouldn't make the call on interracial marriages. And how a century-old pardon might help restore African-American faith in the bureaucracy.

Why genealogy can be painful.

by Raina KelleyAs a teacher in a predominantly black school district, my husband often discusses civil rights, diversity, and integration no matter what his curriculum says.

How I learned to stop worrying and love my hair.

Married sex is not nearly as bland as we tend to think it is—just ask your parents. If you can muster the courage.

Why progressives should give Obama a break.

Only a writer on par with William Shakespeare could express the pain and sorrow and rage that I still feel about The X-Files. I loved that show. It was must-watch TV for me.

Lessons on race for my biracial son.

by Raina KelleyI may be tanking my own career by concentrating on the resurrection of Whitney over all of the other work I have to do, but I don't care. Here's my recap of what happened on day two of Oprah's much-hyped interview with Whitney.3:59 p.m.:  Still excited.

Oprah said her interview with Whitney Houston was the greatest interview she's ever done, which means it's the best piece of television since television was invented.

I love Whitney Houston. I've never met her, I've never been within a mile of her, but I feel a deep and really unfathomable love of her, sight unseen. It's not one of those creepy stalker things, I swear. I just feel a kinship with her. Except for the Bobby Brown thing and the alleged drug-use thing and the reality-TV thing and the four-octave—OK, now a three-octave—vocal-range thing.

Why a little deception can be good for a relationship.

How imagining a life of crime helped me heal.

I don't often do demonstrations.  I don't want to end up on YouTube.  But I want you to take a good look at this picture of me—and not just the fact that I'm wearing an amazing canvas sunhat.

Why the dog-killing NFL player deserves a second chance.

Well, well, well … another "racial incident" is upon us. This time, we're in an uproar over the arrest of Henry Louis Gates (black) by Sgt. James Crowley (white) for disorderly conduct after a heated argument about whether Gates had broken into his own house in Cambridge, Mass.

  I would rather be Gov. Mark Sanford than the Cambridge police officer who arrested Henry Louis Gates for disorderly conduct. Can you imagine putting handcuffs on the director of the W.E.B.

When race plays a role in disease.