Black women are vibrant and beautiful. Black women cannot be cut down. We are intricately connected to uplift and support one another. We are flowers and we are so much more. We are beautiful, we are weeds, we are survivors.
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The educational attainment data will tell us the number of advanced degrees earned and, as justification to pursue a doctorate, try to correlate it with higher earnings and lower unemployment. But the story behind the numbers sheds light on the why. Why are Black women pursuing doctorate degrees?
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Black women are initially seen as likeable novices, but when they tap into power and equity, it threatens the dominant group. I have felt this and have had numerous conversations within my trusted networks about the harm this perception causes. When confronted with this harm, it can sometimes feel as if there is nothing one can do. I recommend the following…
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For the past few years, I have been asking myself: In the midst of advocating for, facilitating, and leading toward racial equity, inclusion, and social change, how can we as Black leaders address our own internalized anti-Blackness and racialized harm? I’ve also wondered: How might focused and communal effort to offer care and love to Black people manifest as collective well-being and success?
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The book The Other Black Girl by Zakiyah Harris has mixed reviews. *Warning: this essay will contain spoilers to the novel.* There are so many things to explore about this story: relationships between Black women, the publishing industry as a whole, workplace micro-aggressions, respectability politics, internalized racism, and so much more. The Other Black Girl is far from boring if you look at it from the right lens. A question that rose up for me while reading: Where do you draw the line when it comes to defining who/what is good for the Black community?
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What I have been finding out slowly is: being a tall fat Black woman does not mean I cannot enjoy things or experience things or that I am automatically disqualified from things – even if that has been true in the past. And this is very difficult for me. In 2022, I want to redefine what it means to hope. I am learning in my journey that hope is a discipline, requiring me to practice the art of hope.
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I started to wonder if I was on the team simply to cover up any speculation that it was not a diverse workplace. I would often wonder if I was wasting my time proving how great of an asset I was to a corporation that did not care about who I was as an individual, but instead only cared that their name would not be in the media for not having at least “One Black Girl” that gets paid a good salary. I pushed and pushed until, one day, I was over it. The reality of being treated “nice nasty” because of my skin color was extremely exhausting.
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Good morning Light Skinned Sister. I heard you talking about your Black experience. I appreciate that. I hold a place in my heart for you. I give you spiritual hugs and kisses every time the thought of you crosses my mind… and still, your Black ain’t like mine. I write this as a call to action, a provocation, if you will. I ask that you hold a place in your heart for me different than the one you hold for yourself. Let me be different. Let me speak for myself. While our blues probably match, your Black ain’t like mine.
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Entering the workforce, I was taught that to survive and succeed I’d need to sacrifice everything about myself, and only then would I master “professionalism.” I was mentored to mask my personhood and humanity into a small, shallow, tight box that was intentionally designed to suffocate me with white norms. If I conquered that tightrope, if I became the most revered and beloved acrobat of white comfort and obedience, then surely I would be rewarded with “success.”
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I could literally go on for pages naming Black women who are changing the world — breaking through glass and concrete ceilings — shaping the narrative of who Black women are, what we can be and more importantly what we can do. We are no longer “hidden figures,” silenced and not acknowledged for our brilliance and our beauty. It’s Our Time!
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August 16, 2006 was the day I had officially started my undergraduate studies as a Bennett Belle....
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“I am a Millennial and woman of color. Working in an environment that is predominantly white and...
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