The Pain in Being A Strong Black Woman

As an adult I still cannot think of time where I witnessed my mother crying, I know we all exert all internal pain in times of sorrow and pain, but it seems as though she would never allow anyone to see in her a vulnerable place. I’ve never seen my mother exhibit frustration unless it was with her disappointment in me. Back then I placed the onus of her anger on me, instead I’m beginning to realize that it may a direct frustration with her, in the belief that she may have failed. Even though my father was avid in my life he wasn’t in the household, my living space was matriarchal. His presence was felt, but she was still the point guard of my residence.  

Since the 60’s leading into the 70’s black households have increasingly been headed by a woman, and even before the 60’s black mothers bore the responsibility of taking care of homes during slavery with little help as well.  Many factors are at play when you look at the increased number of single parent households nationally, not just in the segment of black households, but throughout all races in America.  Historically black women have taken on the roles of superheroes. As heads of these modern households, they are wearing hats that they traditionally they shouldn’t fit; holding down a full-time job(s) (sometimes multiple ones), bearing the sole responsibility of raising boys to men and girls into women. Not only are these single mothers supposed to be nurturers, but they are also ourprotectors.

Just like in previous generations, black women in today’s generation have grown up with the assumption that they have to play a superhero role in a society where they have to show their strength all the time and not show any signs of vulnerabilities. Superheroes should only exist in comic books and in movies, but by taking on this heroic role black women are cheating themselves out of a life normalcy and complete happiness.

By taking on the superhero “I can do it on my own” persona you sacrifice taking care of your own needs. We as a black community have imprisoned many of our sisters into these roles instead of letting them be free to define who they truly can be instead of the infamous single mother of two who has to work 2-3 jobs just to keep the lights on. Before we can even look at ways of fixing these roles that we have trapped a lot of these women into we have to see those factors that have led to the hardened black feminine superhero figure.

It would be dishonest not to acknowledge other determining factors such as mass incarceration, unemployment, and economic disparities as factors that place women into these roles; we must be honest in how we don’t allow safe spaces for black women to be vulnerable in expressing grief. They are expected to not only be the backbone to their families, but they must also the bear the burden of being the heartbeat as well. Black women are required to nurture everyone and provide shoulders for relief, but who are they allowed to turn to in their moment of despair?

I can recall times visiting love ones who happened to be locked up and being astounded by the things that I’ve witnessed in the visiting room. I can always recall seeing men being visited by their significant others every time that I visited an inmate. No matter how long their bid was someone who they loved romantically always made a conscience effort to be there, even if all they could provide was just a loving touch or the glimpse ofhope that someone still cared. The times that I spent visiting female inmates revealed something quite different, these black women rarely, if at all had their male counterparts there. Even though I didn’t do field interviews for these women, it would be hard to believe that these women didn’t feel abandoned. Black women are the fastest rising group when we look at the rate of mass incarceration, but they still aren’t shown the same compassion that black males receive. The shoulders that they provide are reciprocated with cold ones.

We must ask ourselves why she feels the need to be the strong and put on this mask of a strong heroic woman. Under that mask of strength, fearlessness, and confidence could be a woman that grew up fatherless, one that was raped, abused, or had to be the witness of a mother that was abused physically or emotionally by a significant other. A lot of these issues that many women try to hide are usually the determent factors of their character. Many of our sisters are covered in smiles that conceal broken hearts, fear of failure, and despair.

Too often the usage of the word strong is used to treat black women as super human because we have this false epistemological belief that they can endure more pain than the average human being. While it can be argued that black women endure the most abuse than any other group on earth, which however makes it easier for physical, emotional, and physiological abuse to be inflicted upon them. This notion to be strong for the sake of their blackness, families, and communities turns them into warriors who at the end of the day cannot even be honest with themselves of the trauma that they are experiencing. This type of pain begins to become normalized which in turns takes away from the opportunity for it to be medicalized. While as a community these feats of heroism are celebrated amongst black women, we however turn a blind eye to the issues that ultimately put them in these compromising binds. Instead of creating spaces were black women are allowed to roam freely, we instead put them into these unrealistic expectations of struggle that we assert onto our women as a rite of passage.

Black women are required to make a dollar out of 15 cents, and even when income inequality is discussed amongst men and women the disparities that black women face are generally always erased from the conversation. While we consistently talk about how white women make 77 cents for every dollar that a white man makes, we however forget to acknowledge that black women only make 64 cents.  A black woman’s voice should be heard, instead of it being silenced. They are deemed strong enough to make a way and tough enough to constantly shrug off the discrimination that they face. The strength of a black woman should be used a mechanism for progression, not used as crutch to excuse discrimination.

While we understand that being black and being female in a world that functions under the system of white male patriarchy is challenging because they are trapped within the margins ofmultiple oppressions simultaneously. We expect black women to encamp themselves to a singular group, which perpetuates this notion of black women taking care of everyone, but themselves. When we ask black women to tackle gender issues, their race is generally marginalized, however when they are asked to fight for a race issue then they are asked to dismiss their femininity because it compromises the current grapple that is ensuing. The issue is that we can’t expect someone to give their self to others with any reciprocity to themselves. For these women who are forced to be the backbone and heartbeat to communities we pass on these beliefs to younger generations that the strength of black women is not intended to be beneficial to them, but only as value to others around them.  

We must ask ourselves why we view the black women in ourlives as strong; whether they are our mothers, grandmothers, aunts, teachers, wives, girlfriends and even our fictive kin. Where does this admiration come from? Too often we focus on their triumphs and we don’t exhibit any compassion concerning their struggle. Black women are looked at as individuals who wear bullet proof vests, while others run at the sight of gunfire, black women are expected to face these bullets that life shoots atthem with full force.  So instead of focusing on their personal wounds they must put a Band-Aid on and focus on being teachers, nurses, counselors, psychologists, mothers and cooks to the community.  

In addition to everything else that comes with the territory weallocate less time for black women to grieve and suffer because their agony is deemed less important because of the erroneous expectations that we place upon them. We only care about sprinters crossing the finish line, but we never speak about the painful training and work regiments that are perquisites for these accomplishments.

Why we applaud black women for all that they have to endure and their ability, I feel it’s disingenuous not ask what we can do about the scars they receive. When do we allow these women a shoulder to cry on, an ear that will listen, and a heart that will beat for them? When will we remove the load off of their back instead of requesting that they build stronger backs? By allowing these mythological notions of black women believing that must be strong this allows them to underappreciated, overworked, and exploited just because these burdens have been placed on them historically.

Black women need to be afforded the opportunity to cry and grieve openly without being shamed to the degree that feel that they’ve not only let their community, gender, race, and families down, but ultimately themselves down.

Even though “strong” black women have produced college graduates, upstanding citizens, and progressed our communities while many of our black men were strung out on drugs, walked away, or populated the prison systems it seems that the “the strong black woman” has done more hurt to herself and left her own personal happiness unfilled. Even when the world seems to be against her she still manages to find compassion to propel not only her house, community, but the world.