Silent Voices by Josephine Carson
Who do you shout to when you want to get something off your chest, when you want something to change? Who has tried to keep you silent for your or their so-called survival? Talk to me. Let me know.
Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith
Yesterday was incredibly awesome. I was awestruck at his elegance, engaged by his grace and her grace and those beautiful children; they were lovely. It was another proud moment for me and most black folks who are fed up with modern-day minstrel shows in the form of ghetto shenanigans perpetuated as representing all of black America. I was proud to see a black American, President Barack Obama, in all his intellectual splendor, not just being a black face filling a space, but one qualified to be there. As I watched the inauguration, I had to ask myself, “What is this racial pride? Is it a boast in a racial competition or is it a declaration of I, too, am America?” (See below). As I pondered I realized that it was a little of both.
As a recovering strong black woman, I have my “How ya like me now!” racial moments. I want white people to envy black success and to feel ashamed for ever doubting our capability to achieve in high places. But as I move closer to Christian righteousness as it relates to race I more often declare, I, too, am America, though I am the darker sister. Acts 17:26 says that from the blood of one man God made every nation of men, and Psalm 139:14 says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. So based on Acts, white, Asian, Latin and Native American women and men are also fearfully and wonderfully made. With this in mind I will seek to be proud of others’ moments of success, not because they’re black but because they are some of God’s creations, brothers and sisters in humanity. Privileging race because of race slaps God in the face and disregards his intentionality of creating us all different. My move closer to Christian righteousness doesn’t always feel right but it is right. The walk is surely one of faith but one I am willing to take.
I, Too, Sing America by Langston Hughes
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I’ll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody’ll dare
Say to me,
“Eat in the kitchen,”
Then.
Besides,
They’ll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed–
I, too, am America.
Copyright 2009 By Rhonda J. Smith
I’ve been dreaming, as many people have on this Martin Luther King Jr. holiday, of a better nation. And, on the eve of the most historic day in racial history and of the presidency in the United States, I encourage us all to engage in new conversations about race.
Our 44th President, Mr. Barack Obama, has invited the nation to talk to him about race. And as a recovering strong black woman, I continue to encourage talk about the racial aspect of being a strong black woman. Let’s continue to have the old conversations about other oppression (like institutionalized racism) because those conversations are never finished. But I want us to talk about what many have relegated as our dirty laundry. Stuff like us having inherent strength because we are black or that we are better than others because of all we have been able to do with little time and resources. Let’s get our racial views about ourselves out in the open, assess where we are and where we need to go so that we become a better spiritual nation, the kingdom of God full of women fighting to be who He wants us to be.
Copyright 2009 By Rhonda J. Smith
Oooooo. The title just sounds like I’m trying to start something. Really, though, I’m not trying to pick a fight, but I do want to incite some wrestling, just a little tussle, in your soul, to identify some strong black woman issues (particularly yours if you’re an SBW). Now if you’re not a strong black woman, you’re welcome to identify, but be ready for a fight. Doing so is like white people using the N-word or somebody else talking about your crazy mama. You just don’t do it aloud and not expect some resistence. But I want to know what anyone thinks. Hearing from “outsiders” often gives a much needed perspective to move from where you are to where God would have you to be.
As I continue to consider the definition of a strong black woman, one of the main characteristics I see is oppression. Discrimination comes because of race and gender. And don’t be talented, too. Whew!!! It can be rough. I don’t know how many times I received that “You’re normal like me,” “How did YOU do that?” or “We didn’t think you could handle this assignment” look or comment, been altogether ignored or just flat out called a name. Other oppression is real and a real pain.
Besides other oppression, there is self oppression, and this is what we don’t like to talk about. This is how we oppress ourselves as we attempt to combat other oppression and even fulfill expectations that people have of us. It’s even when do harm to our sister to try to maintain where we think we should be (Ouch!). I realize that I’m in recovery because of the scars of other and self oppression. Yes, there have been some “white man” problems, but what about those problems I caused. How have I contributed to my need for recovery?
You know I want to hear your story. What are your other and self oppression issues? We can’t ignore what’s happened (and continues to happen) from without, but let’s wrestle with our own mess.
Copyright 2009 By Rhonda J. Smith
The heartbeat of what I have read over the years, recent links and even some of your (and definitely my) comments are the reasons I am a “Parenthetical Recovering Strong Black Woman.” What is the heartbeat of most strong black women writings that I have seen? There is this doublespeak that takes place: On one hand we revere this woman who believes she has to take on everything and take others to task who don’t respect her; and on the other hand we say we don’t want to be her but are proud that we are her. There is a sense of schizophrenia happening, and this dual reality has me in a tailspin.
I am a Parenthetical Recovering Strong Black Woman because I recognize the need to pause about why I accept being called a strong black woman. I recognize my strong black woman wounds and the need to heal from those wounds. And I understand the need to be a woman, always recovering but never quite looking the same as the strong black woman without the parenthesis. I am a woman still in process, learning to properly redefine myself as a strong black woman, and in doing so I realize that I not only need to behave differently but I need new terminology to reflect the change. I don’t feel comfortable calling myself a strong black woman because of all the dizzying doublespeak and labels (deserved and undeserved) that come with that name. I declare a new name, though I don’t know what it is. But one thing I do know: In Christ I am new. Old things have passed away. All things are new (2 Corinthians 5:17). I just need to catch up with Christ’s declaration of who I am. With his leading, I know I’ll get there.
Copyright 2009 By Rhonda J. Smith