When you think of the phrase “Strong Black Woman,” very often it conjures up images of a neck-rolling, hands on her hips, better not mess with me woman. The phrase has become so widely used, it is now a cliché. But where did it come from and should we embrace this definition of black womanhood?
Over the last four centuries black women have had to endure some pretty tough circumstances: rape, abuse, the emasculation of black men, oppression, depression, a society that fails to value our contributions, a standard of beauty that does not appreciate our beauty. In other words, they beat us, violated us, left us, ignored us, called us ugly and exploited us.
But all this points to some “other”. They. The image of the SBW is a response, a reaction to outside forces.
After all the years of pain and suffering, the black woman had to build up defense mechanisms. She developed a hard shell and tough exterior to protect her against very real threats. She learned to bounce back when knocked down. She learned to push down the pain and hide the hurt behind false bravado. And even though this image today has too often become a caricature, mocked, laughed at and used as the butt of jokes in media, the SBW has learned to turn it around and embrace it with pride.
However, I challenge us as black women to examine this definition to see if it is still useful and beneficial.
Sometimes the SBW strikes up negative connotations. She is seen as aggressive, threatening, someone who lashes out and can’t control her mouth or her actions. This perception oftentimes gets our girls expelled from school and our women incarcerated. Still, we in our efforts to encourage ourselves, end up encouraging behaviors that are not conducive to growth and real empowerment. We say, “Girl I wouldn’t take that mess.” “Speak your mind.” “You better not mess with that sister.” “Say it with attitude.”
Is this who we are?
I assert that who we are and what has gotten us through a painful history has been something quite different. Our gentleness, discretion, and faith. Black women endured hardship with grace, not a bad attitude. Our grandmothers prayed, instead of lashing out. They spoke their hearts with wisdom, instead of saying the first thing that came to mind. They comforted broken children and beaten down men. They inspired. They organized boycotts behind the scenes. They helped fund-raise to support a movement that changed the world. They welcomed strangers into their homes when necessary. Instead of making people feel threatened by them, they became beacons for comfort and real strength.
I encourage us all that we can now stop drawing the image of ourselves based on a reaction to a threatening world. We can stop defining ourselves by what something or someone else is doing and our response to it. We can do what our grandmama’s did to get through, depend on what God has gifted all women with, the ability to bring forth life. Create. Nurture. Love. Share. It is not brute strength that we need right now. It is your indomitable spirit and ability to love unconditionally. It is not the circumstances and people around you. It is the power that is in you. There is a well inside of you. Draw from it. You are not only strong. You are powerful. Use the power. Happy Mother's Day.
