Black Woman

“How does it feel to be a problem?”- W.E.B. DuBois

Black. Woman. Black woman. Two small words… with years of oppression, marginalization, and forgotten identity between them. There was the feminist movement, but they forgot about my blackness. There was the Black Power Movement, but they forgot about my womanhood. They forgot about me.

Black women are flawed. Black women are angry. Black women are evil. Black women are ugly. What if I am all of that? What if I’m none of that? Dehumanized, over sexualized, constantly ostracized. What if I just want to be me, a black woman?

I live in a world where #BlackGirlsRock can’t be a trending topic without #WhiteGirlsRock coming up quickly behind. I also live in a world where our sisters can’t get support from our brothers, because we are deemed undesirable and completely unattractive. The feminist movement wasn’t for us and we aren’t included in modern-day feminism. The Black Power Movement was to empower black men while their mothers, sisters, wives, aunts, female cousins, etc. sat at home cooking their meals, stroking their egos, and being silent.

What am I to do? I want to get married and become a housewife and have my only job to be raising our children. Then I am lazy, unmotivated, and my sole purpose in life is to live off of a man. I want to pursue my bachelors, then my masters, and I want to go all out and get my PHD. Then I am too independent and I must be a lesbian. They say if I don’t need a man for financial security, why do I need a man?

I am a black woman, but I don’t want your labels. I am a black woman and you cannot define me. I am a black woman and I am more than that. I am a black woman and I am just that…black woman.


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