Right that Strong Black Woman Book

As promised on Friday, today I begin posting excerpts from a draft of my book on the strong black woman. If you look over the course of my life, this book has been in the making since I was about 5. I began writing it, however, about 10 years ago. Over the decade there has been a host of articles, talk shows, lectures and books on this topic. Most recently, Sheri Parks published Fierce Angels: The Strong Black Woman in American Life and Culture and Hasani Pettiford published Why We Hate Black Women. While these books deal with stereotypes surrounding strong black women and even delve into areas of spirituality, neither offers a Christian worldview. My work does. If you have been following this blog, you know that I believe Jesus Christ is the author and finisher of my faith. So any conclusions that I come to about who I am have to be words based on what Jesus says. So from my book with the working title Destroying the Myth of the Strong Black Woman, I present to you a portion of the foreword:

    “Their strength is to sit still. Now go, write it before them in a table, and note it in a book, that it may be for the time to come forever and ever. . .” Isaiah 30:7b-8.

When God tells you to do something, you better do it, even if the task is harsh; you think people won’t like you, that people will attack you. Such was the case with completing Destroying the Myth of the Strong Black Woman. I didn’t feel this way in the beginning. I first thought, “God gave me this book to help set black women free. This is going to be good. I and so many women I know have these issues. People need this book.” And hundreds of women and men I talked to and interviewed supported my thinking. So did one mainstream publisher whose only apprehension was backlash from the black community. A white editor wanted to know what the black community would feel about some of its dirty laundry being aired. This sentiment kept them from publishing my book. But now here I am, because when God tells you to do something, you better do it, even if the task is harsh, you think people won’t like you, that people will attack you.

So, this is a forewarning. You may think what I have written is harsh; you may not like me; you may even attack me. I can deal with that. What I can’t deal with is the repercussions of God showing me something so clearly, telling me to write it, and disobeying Him for fear of man. This book is my debt to my God who entrusted my limbs to deliver a message, one that is hard-hitting but redeeming for me. When I examined the history of my independence and pride in being a strong black woman I recognized little of my walk had been with God. . . .

More of my story from the book next time

Copyright 2006-2010 by Rhonda J. Smith

My Country

Country—a large area of land regarded as distinct from other areas, e.g. because of its natural boundaries or because it is inhabited by a specific group of people.

This week on this blog has been about country, my country, the United States of America. And I have particularly been focusing on the irreverence toward our leader and the contradictory ideas we use when relating to each other. I believe that the irreverence and the contradictions largely persist because the country was built on a shaky foundation. Now we see a lot of shaking going on in this country, to its literal foundation and the foundation of ideals upon which it was built. All this talk about country and its uneven foundation led me to think about the foundations that we as people build our personal lives upon. I started to examine my own foundation and what country I have built, so to speak. Continue reading

Unlikely Shero

I’m not a socialist or feminist and never thought of myself as either of these. Never found myself on a blacklist, the FBIs Most Wanted List or serving or working in a prison, though I never know what may be in store for me. I don’t advocate lesbianism or atheism, but Angela Y. Davis has been associated with all these, and she is my shero.
Continue reading

Supernatural Sister

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

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