Strong Black Woman Defined

The definitions are coming in. Please keep sending them. In the meantime, tell me what you think of the definitions listed below. Would you call yourself a strong black woman based on these definitions? Why or why not? Also check out http://thenewblackmagazine.com/view.aspx?index=50 and let me know what you think.

The term Strong Black Woman is often used to define the woman who can handle it all.–Cece

My definition of a strong black woman is a woman who has a strong identity in terms of race and gender. Additionally, she has high standards, not easily discouraged, resilient and able to persevere.–Marla

I believe a strong black woman is one who knows, accepts and appreciates who she is — emotional, opinionated, deeply compassionate, a deep lover of God and mankind and ever so sensitive. A nuturer and helper. Aware of how society and even her own race views her and able to remain true to herself, her family, history and ancestors. She is a supporter, encourager and a fighter. Knows that she has to keep getting up and knows that it is God who lifts her.–Paula

Out of Control

My pledge was to publish this blog at least three times a week, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I never got to publish this Wednesday. I had my day planned perfectly: Get up and spend time with God; help my husband with the children before having lunch with a friend; have lunch with a friend; get home in time to receive other friends who were coming to visit; and then post my blog. But I never got to publish Wednesday because my neighborhood had a power outage while my friends were visiting. The time was about 4 p.m.

I couldn’t type, I couldn’t cook, I couldn’t see. We lit candles, but the house was getting cold and our stomachs were hungry. We left to get food and to hang out at my sister’s. Right after we picked up our food we talked to a neighbor who said the lights had just come back on about five minutes before. The time was 8 p.m. We went on to my sister’s to eat and to help them with their new home. Without access to a computer Wednesday went by without a post. Only in my second week of blogging, and I was veered from my plans. As a recovering strong black woman you know I didn’t like things not going as planned. But I had to accept that the circumstances were out of my control.

I asked you in the last post to write what your definition of a strong black woman is. Since no one started the discussion with a definition I will. I see her as one viewed to have everything in control even when chaos comes her way. She has a plan and works it. And if that plan doesn’t work she’ll try  the next plan that’s in the hopper. What do you think about my definition? I look to hear from you.

Copyright 2008 By Rhonda J. Smith

Define Strong Black Woman

I began this blog with some thoughts on whom the strong black woman could be. I questioned whether I myself was one. Some of you in your responses classified yourself and family members as strong black women. Others of you said you thought she was overrated and had even shifted your thinking about who she is or should be. What I want from you now are clear definitions of the term strong black woman. What does it mean to be strong? Is the strength of a black woman different from women of other races? If so, define how? I think many of us, including myself, have been guilty of using the term strong black woman without having a clear definition in mind when we use it; I believe we also fail to think about the implications (good or bad) of using such a term. I’m so interested in your responses. I look to hear from you soon.

Copyright 2008 By Rhonda J. Smith

The Man Behind the Woman?

Recently I was watching a political debate, and I was reminded of 1 Timothy 3:2-7 that gives the qualifications of a church leader. One requirement is that this person lead his own house well and questions whether he can lead the church if he doesn’t. Though the incumbent of the debates was a political and not a church leader, some have wondered about these verses when it comes to the man. I don’t know who rules his house, but I found his response to a question to be quite curious.

The moderator asked the politician if he thought it was appropriate to have a family member who is not on his staff to be on conference calls giving directives to paid staffers. First he got defensive and said he didn’t know what the question was in reference to. He went on to say that it is inappropriate to have nonpaid family members giving directives to staffers. But the final comments centered on his defending that he is in charge of his political office, not his wife, “who is a volunteer” like others. Then finally he said, “she’s a strong black woman” and he wasn’t going to apologize for that. 

I was confused. What does his wife being a strong black woman have to do with whether or not he runs his office? What allowances was he making for his wife by saying she’s a strong black woman? Then I wondered, ‘Do her attitude and appearance overshadow his leadership? Does she speak when she should be silent? Does she push when she should stand still? Does she direct when no one has appointed her director? Is playing the strong black woman card easier than the leading my house well card?’ I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I tell you this: I never want to be called a strong black woman because I don’t know how to restrain myself when restraint is necessary. The meek shall inherit the earth (Matt. 5:5). If I’m meek, having my power under control, I will gain a lot more than if I push for my influence. I don’t know about you, but I’m looking for a great inheritance, the one promised through meekness.

Copyright 2008 By Rhonda J. Smith

Death of a Superwoman

granny

This season has been one filled with death for my blood and church families: loss jobs, broken marriages, foreclosed homes, dissolved friendships, and transitioned loved ones. What’s impacted me most is the loss of my Granny, Brunice C. Lewis, my husband’s grandmother. She, like many family matriarchs, was strong, a rock in our family. Granny worked for years as a domestic cook for a wealthy family, but didn’t give all her love and skills to them. She planned and cooked all our holiday meals, bought us gifts apart from holidays, loaned us money, scolded bad deeds, loved us whole. With Granny’s death, we loss the security of a loving woman who took away the need to be strong. She was our strength, the rock on which we leaned. And her death has been causing me to reflect on some lessons that I thought I learned as a recovering strong black woman.

The first lesson is that our trust and hope can’t be in our grannies and big mommas. As much as we love them, as much as they do for us, as much as life knocked them down and they kept getting back up, they cannot be our gods. In our hoping in and running to them for needs we unknowingly deified them. We remember the stories and have seen their lives of how they got over and we know they can help us get over. But many big mommas will tell you up front, “If it wasn’t for God, I wouldn’t have made it.” Hearing their war stories gives us strength, and we often go back to hear the stories as if the stories themselves are the source of our power. But God says, “When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up—the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, your Savior, the Holy One of Israel” (Isaiah 43:2-3a TLB). God is the source of our power and He is the only one who can save. As I recover from the many deaths in my families, particularly my Granny’s death, and from being a self-empowered strong black woman, I remember that Granny did nothing and I can do nothing without the Rock, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Copyright 2008 By Rhonda J. Smith