Being a black woman in this society is one of the most conflicting things ever. Not because I have a problem with my identity, but because everyone else does. Being a black girl means that when you try to advocate for yourself and your feelings, your emotions are seen as aggressive, uncalled for, and unnecessary, then society proceeds to call us angry and mean. All the while there is a whole community that depends on those same emotions and advocacy.
Societal norms have shown black women as the strong figures that can withstand anything that is thrown at them, and things like the media and film have been pushing this narrative even further. A strong black woman who “has it all,” but is not in touch with her emotions, or a mean girl who seems to have no reason to be mean, but the way she is treated by those around her may just be the reason that she is so “mean” after all.
I am not negating the fact that black women are strong. I know first hand how strong from the women in my life, like my mother and my grandmother. Without their strength, I would not even be a thought in the atmosphere. However, when have black women been allowed to be vulnerable? Society makes us think that we should be satisfied with how we are treated, that we have been granted so much that we should be okay with the bare minimum. Since when are basic human rights the pinnacle of gifts? My whole problem is, what should we be satisfied with? Why shouldn’t we be angry? What is there to be nice about when the whole world is pitted against you for simply existing as black woman?
I would say that this mentality began to grow as I entered college. I started to feel like that whenever I would speak up for myself, my advocacy would soon be turned against me. After a while I realized that no matter what I did, I would always be the “angry black woman,” and my silence would satisfy those who it should not have mattered to anyway.
The irony is that if society were to succeed in silencing the voices of black women, our advocacy would be non-existent, further changing the world for the worse. Not to mention the countless movements for change that would have fallen through without our voices like the Civil Rights Movement. I just find it so interesting that the same people that depend on our voices are the same ones that are trying to get them taken away, but I digress, because what exactly can I do?
I refuse to stop speaking up for those around me because that is who I am. I can’t just sit around and let other people use their voices to drown out mine when my ancestors fought tooth and nail so I could have one. So I will be damned if I let someone take it away from me, and I would say that you should take the same advice.
I speak up for the mothers and fathers that have lost their sons to racial violence, even when the government says otherwise. I speak up for the women who can’t even be seen outside of the house without their lives being threatened. I speak up for the thousands of lives lost in genocides in these past three years alone. Lastly, I speak up for the little girl inside of me that was scared of what others would think of me if I said what was on my mind.
So for this I say, black women, continue to cry, even if those cries form no rivers, and continue to be angry at the world and the systems that it has created that have done you no good. Dig a line in the sand, and make your own damn river.