If you ever needed immediate help, who would arrive first?
- Jimmy Johns
- A Black Woman
If your answer was anything other than “3,” you are not ready for this site and should go read Yahoo Personals or something.
There is something about Black Women. Call it #magic. Call it being formed and cultivated in deep, rich African soil. Call it the resilience of lasting through centuries and centuries of attempts to eradicate us from this Earth. Call it setting trends from the motherland to Compton yet earning no recognition. But a Black Woman has that…. She just is…
A Black Woman IS.
We are superheroes. I grew up witnessing my mom make a dollar out of fifteen cents. I’ve seen my sister snatch my nephew from imminent danger while looking the other way. I have an aunt on Facebook and if any of my posts reveal a hint of distress, she’d be at my front door before the first comment. When you think of a mom lifting a car off her child, what race is the mom? I rest my case.
We are loyal. Look no further than our faith and loyalty in the black man. I’ve written about this love imbalance before, and I won’t again in this post. But I will say that if you ever find yourself bored during your commute, do a search for disrespect of black women on your social media feeds. I’d gamble black men and non-black women are the top two guilty parties. Or just read Tyrese’s Instagram.
There is no support in this world as steadfast as a Black Woman. We do not break. We will reach into your Hell and snatch you out! Dare that devil to make a move. Black Women will nurture you. We will feed you. We will mend broken wings until that man is able to fly again. And we encourage him to fly fully aware that he may never return.
We are amazing.
We wrap our arms tightly around our sisters because we know we are all we have. This blog was supposed to be about sister circles, but I started writing about Black Women and amazed my damn self. You are invaluable to me. No matter what has happened in my life, a Black Woman has always been there to put me back on my feet. I LOVE my circle of friends, those I see weekly and those I see only online. You are necessary. Black women, YOU ARE NECESSARY.
I am just verbally incapable of properly expressing the miracle that is the Black Woman through written word. More than queens, you are the Mother of Humanity. Your physical attributes and hairstyles have been the target of imitation attempts since you first used charcoal to darken your eyes in Ancient Egypt. You’ve spent hours raising someone else’s children only to come home and have to raise yours, yet you still gave the world W.E.B. Dubois, Carter G. Woodson, Mae Jemison, etc. Their father deserted you, and you still got his son to the NBA, NFL, Morehouse, Howard, etc.
Black Women, you should not even still exist! You’ve been stolen, raped, sold, disenfranchised, neglected. The men, your protectors, have been lynched, snatched away, even federally prohibited from residing in government housing with you and your children. Some have simply just walked away. You’re told your natural hair is unprofessional, your natural cadence is unintelligent, and your natural shape is scandalous. And didn’t I read something last month about your being uncoachable?
Why have you not buried your head in the sand and hid? Don’t you hear all the negative things they say about your skin, your weight, your aggressiveness? Haven’t you seen the statistics about how even your own men do not want to marry you? Why are you still strutting with your head high? How dare you still be out here slaying?
I see you, though. I want to be you even though I am you. You are that damn inspirational.
How does anyone look at a Black Woman and not see God?
How do you see your sisters and not see God?
How do you look in the mirror and not see God?
Black Women, you are EVERYTHING.
Today’s Soundtrack: Janet Jackson – New Agenda