I have seen too many of us who wanted to be a “strong Black woman” so badly that we denied ourselves the pleasure of emotional acknowledgment, refusing to accept we needed help in the name of such “strength.” This fallacy of strength attached to Blackness diminishes our well-being and hurts us more than it empowers us. . . .
In modern-day politics, figures such as Meghan Markle, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Michelle Obama, and Kamala Harris are seen as heroes of our times who have overcome the odds in order to make the world a better place for women everywhere. By taking up space in male-dominated settings, they are sending the message that they’re a force to be reckoned with. Powerful. Commanding. In control. However, this doesn’t automatically mean that they’re making progress on behalf of women everywhere. . . .
Africana Womanism and Black Feminism are two different approaches that attempt to redefine and contextualize the experiences of African/Black women. Though both of these ideologies underscore Black women’s experiences, the principles and methods of these two approaches differ and sometimes conflict. . . .
African women combat unique oppression. Cisheteropatriarchy, racial capitalism, colorism, and so forth. However, there are specific historical and cultural realities many African women exist within that are distinct to continental African women. . . .
This piece on gender violence in social justice movements was originally published in make/shift magazine’s Spring/Summer 2010 issue and written by Courtney Desiree Morris. In January 2009, activists in Austin, Texas, learned that one of their own, a white activist named Brandon Darby, had infiltrated groups protesting the Republican National Convention (RNC) as an FBI informant. Darby later admitted to wearing recording devices at planning meetings and during the convention. He testified on behalf of the government in the February 2009 trial of two Texas activists who were arrested at the RNC on charges of making and possessing Molotov cocktails, . . .
Community Control for who? We still have too many hierarchies and contradictions within the Black community to ensure a subset of people with police power would not replicate the same violent institution power. The problem with policing is not who controls it or who can enforce its protocols. The problem with policing is that policing is inherently violent and always patriarchal. Campaigns like #sayhername (though co-opted/erased/reduced to now include #sayhisname) was a recognition that non-cishet men experience police violence. The violence may not be out in the open or in the streets, recording on a cell phone, or public in . . .
I feel a great rage for the African man that violated Toyin and took her life, but I understand he is a pure creation of the most evil global enemy this planet has ever known. He is a victim in his own way, doomed to a cycle of violence that only total revolution will break, though maybe too late for him. I feel a profound sadness and grief for Toyin’s light extinguished too soon but I also know that there will be many many thousands more women and girls who will suffer like her – new ones every day – until we defeat this enemy once and for all. . . .
Love and abuse cannot coexist. Even while knowing this, people weaponize love as a silencer to harm, in the name of unity. How can harm benefit community? How could silence benefit community? . . .