Category Archives: Sisterhood

Day 8: Losing It, Part 6

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In later chapters I talk about the media’s role in shaping the strong black woman. I also talk some more about my life, and streams of feminism flow through, but I suggest that you read “Feminine Mystique or Mistake” by Diane Passno for a full treatment of feminism’s detriment to the Christian woman. But now, consider this: When I began living my life as a Christian, asking questions of my faith and seeking to please Jesus, I became a thinking Christian. I tested my notions through the lens of a Christian worldview and was forced to reexamine my beliefs.

I found that 1) women and men are not created equal in all ways (Gen. 2:7, 21-22); 2) women should allow their husbands to provide for and protect them (Eph. 5:22-33); 3) because men and women are created different and have different roles, it’s impossible to split everything 50/50 in marriage (Eph. 5:22-23; Gal. 6:1-2); 4) a Christian woman’s body is not her own and she doesn’t have a right to alter its natural function by killing life (1 Cor. 6:19-20); and 5) many people may be attracted to you, including other women, but we must choose according to God’s standards (Matt. 19:4-5; 2 Cor. 6:14).

I believe there has been a perpetual, systematic presentation of the strong black woman that has been used to dupe us. The strong black woman presented over the years does not draw real strength from old wives’ tales, media images or feminism. In fact I believe these three areas, with sin at their root, are the reasons black women who consider themselves strong black women have been walking in their own strength, many times not even knowing this. The bottom line is our strength vs. God’s strength and it is up to us to choose.
Romans 8:1 says, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.” God does not condemn us, black Christian women, if we seek after his Spirit. We must be armed and equipped, able to critique the culture and ourselves so we can seek his Spirit and not walk after the flesh, down the road of the strong black woman.

Copyright 2006-2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Day 7: Losing It, Part 5

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As a sorority member in the 1960s she and her sisters promoted Sickle Cell awareness when no one had (and many still have not) heard of Sickle Cell. They had political rallies and gave more than lip service to caring about each other’s welfare. Though some of those women were not active in the sorority after they graduated, they remained active in each other’s lives. I always remember my mom being a part of the phone chain, or calling everyone herself, to let ‘the sorors’ know when another was in need: funeral arrangements, bills paid, groceries, prayer, etc. They were there for each other like no man, in their estimation, ever was.

Along with her sorority my mom was involved in politics. She was a strategist on some campaigns, a general volunteer on others, an election worker, a Democratic Party committee contributor and a precinct delegate. Most times she worked for women. She shared her heartbeat for protecting women when she taught my sister and me that we didn’t have to let the right hand (my daddy/husbands) know what the left hand (my mama/wives) was doing.

I never sought to be a feminist. I simply repeated my mothers’ behavior and allowed the culture to further influence me with little critique of larger implications. I want you to consider some of the notions that I had, and that you might have, that are feminist thoughts: 1) Men and women are equal in all ways; 2) I don’t need a man to provide for or protect me; 3) We will split everything 50/50 in my marriage (bills, our roles, etc.); 4) I’m not in favor of abortion for me, but I believe women should have a choice to decide what they want to do with their own bodies; and 5) As an adult, you should be able to love whoever, man or woman, finds you loveable.

In short, feminism means giving priority to womanhood, considering your existence through giving preference to female desires with little or no regard to the negative effects on men or children. In this extreme version feminism is matriarchy on crack, especially for the Christian and more specifically for the one calling herself a strong black woman.

Copyright 2006-2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Loving Kim

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Yesterday educator and civil rights icon Dorothy I. Height died. She was there with Martin Luther King. She was there before him fighting for racial and gender equality. She was on the frontlines. Among several involvements, Height was a member and past president of the National Council of Negro Women, a member and past national president of Delta Sigma Theta Sorority Inc. and a presidential adviser. Height was 98. With her death and the recent death of former NAACP leader Benjamin Hooks, someone asked the question, “Who will lead us?” And I thought of my girl Kim, one of my oldest, closest and dearest friends.

Me and Kim at the airport on her way to South Africa-February 1996

Kimberly Ann Trent is a civil rights icon in her own right. Currently a director for Michigan Governor Jennifer Granholm, she’s worked for two members of US Congress, been a journalist, is extremely active with the Democratic Party and Delta Sigma Theta’s political action committee, organized the campaign to keep affirmative action as the law in Michigan and sits on too many boards to name. She is a true Renaissance woman who does what she does not to be seen and heard but so others can be seen and heard. Though she comes from a highly educated middle class family and has studied abroad in Finland and South Africa, she has a heart for the oppressed, whatever the oppression is. She’s been this way for as long as I’ve known her and that’s been since we were 14, but we didn’t get close until college.

While at Wayne State University in Detroit we dreamed of a better world and what our role would be in it. We were young, certainly not dumb but we wanted to be deeper than we were. A voracious reader, Kim mostly decided what we would read and intellectual bell hooks was at the top of our list. Some Saturdays (depending on what we did Friday night) we would sit and read and then discuss what we read. I remember taking Sisters of the Yam on our trip to Jamaica and between sightseeing and beach parties, we actually read on our hotel balcony and while chilling on the beach.

Our reading together, trips together, working together (summers at The Detroit News), and ‘all the time’ talks together created a deep bond that some just couldn’t understand, especially our sorors (I am a member of the Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc.). We would say we were going to be national president of our organizations and seek to implement joint national programs. And to get each other’s attention across campus we would mix our sorority calls (Skee-oop, I would say. Ooo-skee, she would say). This was the late ’80s and ’90s. In this last decade we haven’t hung as much because our lives leave little time for leisure. But Kim in all her busyness never forgets her friends. She never forgets me. She always celebrates my birthday and has helped to host my baby showers. We talk at least once a month and even hung out for a few hours last Friday without a big rush and without our children. It was then that I felt we were young again, and I remembered my poetic tribute to her. I share this with you now to celebrate one of my best friends, civil rights icon Kimberly Ann Trent:

SISTER LOVE
For Kimmie

A stash of my sashes, those tools to prop me up,
are in medicine cabinets and books, the bible to be exact.
But there’s one place I find comfort, where books don’t compete
or taking drugs, when I’m fiend, leaves me feeling incomplete
I need to push a button, the one marked primary
at the top of my telephone
to send an alert to my friend, the one who keeps me moving,
strolling, yes, staying strong.
Always on the case, my saving grace,
she perfects the race to be young, gifted and black.
She got my back from way back,
that’s how I know she’s beautiful.

And I told her, her statuesque body
taking command as she stands and I delight
in her insight and share her thoughts with others.
And no joke, this is not for the rhyme but my brother
said one time, “What doesn’t Kim say?”
I blushed and agreed because I did repeat
a lot of what she said
like with a childhood crush
or results of a sugar rush to the head
I was and still am impelled by Kim.

Sounds like a love story, that’s right, it is.
Sister love is the theme and Kimberly Ann Trent has laid out the scene
Even when she’s moody and doubtful, I remember the laughter, same wave lengths, talking all night, all of the trappings of great friendship.
She is solid, solid as a rock, my rock and she better know it.
She is good medicine. And I’m glad I have her to help save my life.

By Rhonda Anderson
February 17, 1996

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

Supernatural Sister

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Me & my best friend Nichole wearing t-shirts she designed: Walk by Faith and Fear Less, Hope More

I wasn’t looking for any more friends, was satisfied with the ones I had—old and true not giving me the blues like some relationships I knew about. But I found her, Nichole M. Christian, at a college journalism program meeting in Detroit, and I loved her right away. Continue reading →

Sister Love

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We always got carded in high school, my sister, Sharon, and me, not because we were trying to buy drinks or get into the club but because of our love for each other. People couldn’t believe we were sisters so we had to show them our driver’s licenses to prove that we lived in the same home. They saw that our love was refreshing and ran deep, like ever flowing springs beyond a desert. This love quenches my thirst for laughter, a safe space, and a reality check, and makes me okay with being put in check if need be. This love is between me and the Rev. Sharon D. Moore, my biological sister and very best friend.

At one time I had a problem saying that she was my very best friend because I have a group of women who I consider my best friends. But beyond biology, when I consider our history and the constancy of our intimacy, I am compelled to show you our identification. She’s my confidante and my giggle girl; we can talk and laugh for hours and never want the time to end. She is total comfort. But this comfort has been steady coming, finally arriving as we have both grown in the Lord and long to treat each other like He does. Before this, we had a few issues. Like many siblings, there was some rivalry, never jealousy about looks or positions. All I remember is that we fought because she liked to wear my stuff and I wasn’t having that. But that period was short-lived. We became allies in 1980 when I was 11 and she was 12. We made a pact not to tell my mom that we fought, an act that would cancel our long-planned trip to California. We stopped fighting then but that’s when Sharon consistently began to fight for me.

She fought my fear: When I got my period, she counseled and coached me through, stroking my knee as she knelt next to me as I sat on the toilet. In junior high she pledged to protect me from the gangs that plagued our schools. She let me hang with her and her friends, 8th and 9th graders no one dared to mess with.

She fought my “loneliness”: I’ve always had my own group of friends and so has she, but if she thought that she was going to have more fun than I she would beg me to join her. And sometimes I just wanted to stay home, but she would choose my outfit and insist I go out with her.

She fought my obsessions and depressions: The times I wondered about my looks, wondered if I had what it took to catch a boy, she was there building me up. She told me about my beauty, what others should see and what was inside me. Sharon never let me think less of myself, only the best of myself and the best for myself.

She fought for my success: Sharon fighting my fear, loneliness, obsessions and depressions clearly helped to make me successful, but she has been on my team helping me fulfill my dreams. She was my campaign manager for my senior class secretary run, promotes my writing by telling people of my service and supports my preaching and teaching by attending and inviting me to speak at engagements. Sharon’s a prayer warrior and prophet for me, seeking God on my behalf and speaking his word to my soul. Besides my husband, she is my greatest cheerleader. Her fight for me has given us a great level of intimacy.

I love Sharon for her love for me but the greater reason is her love the Lord Jesus and people. She wants everyone to be okay. She’s always been this way, a little evangelist, converting hearts and minds from hurt. She knows how to make you feel warm and good about yourself. Sharon did this in her flesh. Now with the strength of the Holy Spirit she’s even bolder so that others know about salvation through Jesus. She’s got a lot of nerve. I love to watch her work to bring others to wholeness and healing with the power of Jesus. She’s a fighter for Him, and she is my shero.

My sister, the Rev. Sharon D. Moore (front row, 3rd from right), assistant pastor of Detroit's Ebenezer AME Church, being honored by The Michigan Chronicle in its Salute to First Ladies in 2010

Copyright 2010 by Rhonda J. Smith