Ain't I a Black Woman?

 Before I continue to write about the ways in which Black women are continuously and rampantly an asterisk or an afterthought of Black liberation movements. I want to stress-I am tired. We are tired. This piece was so close to being called “Tired” because that’s all I could say I couldn’t come up with a witty way to articulate what it feels like to be a Black woman in this country and in her communities. However, I am grateful to the ancestors, queen mothers, and sister folk of our world today for giving me not only the language but the unquenchable fire to keep being loud and consistent with the liberation of Black women- even if it falls on deaf ears. Something I’ve learned over time is that freedom can’t be bought or even asked for. Freedom is something you have to acknowledge you already possess and walk into once you make the decision to live free. In honor of queen mother and ancestor Sojourner Truth, a black woman who, in 1827 did not run away from her “master,” but in her words, “ walked away by daylight….”, I want to begin with some excerpts from her 1851 speech at the Women's National Convention - “Ain’t I a Woman?”

“...that man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place! And ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me! And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well! And ain't I a woman? I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what's this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That's it, honey. What's that got to do with women's rights or negroes' rights? If my cup won't hold but a pint, and yours holds a quart, wouldn't you be mean not to let me have my little half measure full? ...then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him. Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say.”

In this piece, Truth speaks of the differences between the lives of white women seeking rights and the lives of Black women. She argues Black women  should be a part of the same conversation, but are often left out.  During the American Women’s Rights Movement, white women wanted the right to vote while many  leaders- all of which were men- questioned the “intellect” of a woman. They doubted if these women were fit to be a part of the political system. While white women were fighting white men over a seat at the table, Black women were fighting to be seen as human- let alone a woman deserving of decency and protection. We were not granted the fragility and feminine freedom as white women. Even when we did the labor of men and gave birth to their children, we still ain’t enough. We were forced to slave for cotton, sugar, and tobacco right beside our Black men while carrying Black babies on our backs, and later our breasts, to nurture white children. 

41 out of 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence owned slaves. Thomas Jefferson alone owned over 600 hundred slaves, including Sally Hemmings. Sally Hemmings was not his mistress or a "side-chick.”Sally was an enslaved African woman who was raped and forced to bear 6 of Jefferson's children that he never claimed. This country's founders had no intention of treating and seeing Black women as anything else but a body to gratify, market, sexualize, abuse, and dispose of.  Something to conquer. 

Ain’t I a Black Woman?

Sally Hemings wasn’t the first or last Black woman to be seen and treated as property- just like Black men. In fact, this very American ritual of Black women simultaneously being victims of anti-blackness and anti-women doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Just like Trayvon Martin, all of our violators were not white, which is a direct reflection of a society that awards everyone a pass to attack us. 

In 2015, an Asian-American Oklahoma city police officer was convicted of multiple counts of rape, sexual battery, forcible oral sodomy, etc. Most of his victims were Black women who lived in underprivileged communities and were forced to perform sexual acts to avoid being arrested or incarcerated. Although he was found guilty for 18 of 36 charges, almost no coverage was done on a national level and the other 18 women will never get justice for his crimes against them. 

Daniel Holtzclaw saw Black women the same way Thomas Jefferson saw Sally Hemings. He savagely hated Black women and exercised his sexual power over them. We also have to take into consideration class  and the ways in which poor and working-class Black women are highly endangered on astronomical levels. 1991, LaTasha Harlins, a 15-year old girl, was shot in the back of the head by a Korean woman and business owner as she walked away from arguing over a carton of orange juice that the woman thought she didn’t have the money for. Although there was a clear security recording of the incident showing Soon Ja Du murdering this child with no cause, she only had to pay a small fine and received probation. The judge of the case stated, “I know a criminal when I see one” in reference to Soon Ja Du who she believed didn’t deserve a higher penalty. This raises the question that if this woman wasn’t a criminal for slaughtering a Black child then was a crime committed? Who is the criminal?  Latasha’s murder gained some coverage and community alliance but was overshadowed by the 1992 beating of Rodney King by 4 LAPD officers and their acquittal which was a direct catalyst of the L.A. riots at the time. 

Ain’t I a Black Woman?

I find it very eerie that when there is a case of a Black man murdered by the police or an abhorrent white supremacist, and the same happens with a Black woman, the movement always leads and centers the Black man’s life. To observe and critique this pattern is not an effort to diminish or erase Black men, Rodney King or George Floyd. It is an effort for  Black women to say “the same shit is happening to us too and we don’t want to be forgotten because we don’t want to believe that the very communities we’re fighting for and leading don’t value Black women and girls’ lives.” 

Korryn Gaines still haunts me today. Her name lives within my consciousness and is imprinted in my memory. Black people have struggled with standing behind Korryn because she didn’t comply or lay down and die. She was a nightmare for white and conservative Black people - a Black woman untamed and exercising her right to live, protect her children, and be free. She was a free Black woman who disrupted the status quo. At what point will the right of life become a priority over law and order...laws not created for us. Laws that keep Black folks in order. It is common for us to stand behind the “perfect victim” and we have seen the ways that Black women are labeled and seen as problematic victims, which aren’t ideal for the movement. Black women talk back and have attitudes. We are considered to not be complicit in our own oppression, whether it be with white society or within our Black homes and relationships. Yet, we know that even with Black men, Black women can’t be perfect enough to avoid our own lynchings. 

Breonna Taylor, a 26-year old EMT worker, was asleep in her own home when Louisville Metro Police Department officers executed a no-knock warrant to raid her home and shot over 20 times at her and her boyfriend. Breonna died after being shot 8 times. None of the officers involved have been charged. Aiyana Jones, a seven-year-old Black girl from east side Detroit, was shot in the head and killed by a Detroit Police Department special response officer who later was acquitted of all charges and served no time for Aiyanna’s death. Five years later, that same officer returned to active duty. Again, a child is murdered and there is no accountability for their life. Even during our slumber  in our own homes, we are not safe. The  perfect victim is a myth that further justifies the killing and abuse of Black women and girls.

Ain’t I a Black Woman?

According to TIME magazine, 

“at least 14 transgender or gender non-conforming people have been violently killed in 2020 alone, per HRC. In 2019, at least 26 transgender or gender non-conforming people were violently killed, the majority of whom were Black transgender women. Over 130 transgender or gender non-conforming people were killed between 2013 and 2018, according to HRC. The numbers may be even higher; the killing of transgender or gender non-conforming people often goes unreported or misreported, advocates, say.” 

Not only are we erasing cis-gender Black women’s lives from the Black liberation narrative but Black trans women are seen as even less valuable. Their deaths go unacknowledged and buried under almost everyone. The dismissal of Black trans people is a reflection of the thick homophobia and transphobia that is still running rampant within the Black community. What we fail to remember is that those dangerous ideologies were taught to us and we are participating in the terrorism of our own people. Sexuality, gender identity, and gender expression is not a debate. You cannot disagree with someone’s identity in the same way we cannot disagree with someone’s skin color, ethnicity, or culture. It’s very simple and it is silly to believe otherwise. We must hold each other accountable and stop turning a blind eye to the genocide against trans women too.

  We live in a world where a 20-year-old trans woman can be brutally beaten by a mob of men and women in a local convenience store. The store owner rejected Iyanna Dior’s pleas for help and refused to call the police. The footage of the attack is tough to watch. To know that many grown adults beat this woman so badly she thought she was going to die and no one did anything is very disturbing. 

Yet, watching the video doesn’t come remotely close to actually being a transwoman and living with the fear that at any given moment, people in your own community and neighborhood will want to hurt you. On June 8th, Dominique “Rem’Mie” Fells was found dead in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania Although the investigation is ongoing, the death  was ruled a homicide by the police. Less than 24 hours later, in Liberty Township, Ohio, Riah Milton was shot and killed during a robbery. Both were Black trans women. Where is their  rally and riot? When do cities burn for them? Does it seem that Black lives only matter when they’re cisgender, men, and straight? If that is the case, we have become the very thing we’re fighting against.

Ain’t I a Black Woman?

In the words of the brilliant Brittney Cooper in her book Eloquent Rage:

 “Because Black women are viewed as preternaturally strong, our pain often goes unnoticed both in the broader world and in our own communities. Black men frequently don’t acknowledge our vulnerability, don’t seem to think we need defending, and don’t feel a political responsibility to hold Black women (who aren’t their mothers or sisters or daughters) up and honor them. There seems to be no empathetic register for understanding the sheer magnitude of the physical and emotional pain that systems of racism, capitalism, and patriarchy inflict on Black women every day. Black men grow up believing and moving through the world politically as though they have it the toughest, as though their pain matters most, as though Black women cannot possibly be feeling anything similar to the dehumanization and disrespect they have felt. That it might, in many cases, be worse for us seems to many men a preposterous supposition”

She eloquently articulated the ways in which I feel about the erasure of all Black women. I’m not interested in the game of “who’s more oppressed” because I think we do too often in the Black community and it solves none of our problems. However, there are specific issues that directly impact Black women that the Black community won’t address. It’s as if no one sees us unless we are being a mule, a bag lady, a “strong Black woman” or an object of sexual fantasy and fetish. We are deserving of more than romance, internet aesthetics, and recognition of beauty. We deserve to be protected and kept safe. There are many more names, stories, and cases that I did not mention . To learn more, please refer to the Say Her Name report conducted by the African American Policy Forum in 2015 for more cases and stories that you may not know of. Now, I ain’t got nothing more to say but...

Ain’t I a Black Woman?