To Be Black, a Woman, and Free
Finding reasons to smile in a world determined to humble Black women. (Photo by me)
I was never afraid to die, but for a long time I was afraid to live.
Death is easy, final; while living had always seemed to be full of unwanted obligations and expectations. My mother always says that the only thing she has to do in life is “be Black and die, everything else is optional.” Somewhat of a cynical thing to say, yes, but completely valid and true all the same. Those two things, her being a black and the impending death she will face, are the only unchangeable factors fastened to her until the end of time. My mother can choose what to do with her life. She can choose how to live her life. She can choose whom she loves and for how long, but she will never be anything other than Black woman, and she most certainly will die one day. All else that she experiences in life, and what we experience in our lifetimes is a result of the choices we make each day. Because of this, I was afraid to live, and I mean truly live my life.
I was afraid to be free.
By virtue, most Black women are not free because being a woman (especially a Black one) is to be born into a body that comes with a preordained set of limitations. Society has chosen to make Black women the least respected and the least protected group, causing our very existence to be tied to immense level scrutiny and criticism. We cannot be loud, but we our silence is often perceived as disinterest. We cannot be too assertive but meekness comes with negative connotations when attached to an ebony body. We dare not be too sensual or sexual but we also should embrace the fullness of our femininity, all the while living under the most hostile of conditions.
To be a Black woman means to be hyper aware of every aspect of our lived experience. One wrong choice, one wrong move on the chessboard and that’s it. The game is over and black women stand to lose the morsels of approval we had to begin with. We’re offered little to no safety, protection, or shelter for our mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing because society has deemed us unworthy of such.
Every choice a person makes has their own impending consequences regardless of race and gender, moreover, the actions and decisions of others (complete strangers even) have the ability to directly influence one’s life progression. Yet being a Black woman means you have even less control over your own life than others. Whether we like it or not, we Black women are tethered to one another. Any respect and grace bestowed upon us is heavily impacted by a choice that one of us or a few of us decides to make.
Although I aspired to live freely, I knew that by choosing to step outside the box of what has been deemed acceptable behavior for someone like me could potentially bring shame to my fellow Black women, making their lived experiences more challenging than it already is. I was afraid to embarrass us or myself by going beyond those limits.
That’s the thing about fear - it is a choice. To be free as a Black woman is a choice. I can count on one hand the number of free Black women I've encountered in my life thus far. Free Black women scare people. They are intimidating to anyone who finds hubris in their mere right to exist as they are. When most people encounter a free Black woman for the first time, they think she has lost her mind. How dare she be so comfortable in herself? They challenge the widely accepted societal and cultural customs with their mere existence. While they don’t all look the same, and surely they don't all act the same; all free Black women do whatever the hell it is they want in life because they know no limits.
Many of us have no idea we’ve chosen for fear until we choose to be free. Many of us are so afraid of living that we subconsciously lock our minds in cages shaped by expectations that do not serve us. And if we as black women never learn to live freely, to release the societal and cultural expectations that don’t support our mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing, when we meet our deaths would the lives we lived had been worth it?
I came across a quote by the beloved Toni Morrison a few years back that helped me put things into perspective; “The function of freedom is to free someone else.”
It is something I reflect on often when I am challenged by my fears. Whenever I consider making myself small for the sake of protecting the image of Black women, when I hear that little voice in my head begins to whisper what I can and can not do because I am a Black woman; this quote reminds me that minimizing myself, while noble in its intent, is counterproductive in its attempt to uphold the Black female image. Choosing to be a free Black woman is what protects the others. It is my choosing to be free that liberates my sisters from their own fears.
The actions of one or a few of impacting the collective is no burden to the free Black woman. No matter how odd, inappropriate, or intimidating a free Black woman might seem to you, their right to live a life that pleases them is an act of liberation that deserves to be respected, protected, and uplifted. Their right to exist as they are helps others understand that Black women have no limits - that we too get to live a life we would rather die for than lose.
Thank you for reading.
This essay is the first of four writing pieces to be published in July that explore my philosophies and experiences with the idea of liberation.
The set of writing prompts I have curated below will guide you to ruminate and uncover your personal thoughts and feelings on what it means to be a free black woman. I would love it if you would select a prompt and write your answer in the comments, or you can simply share a thought that came up for you while reading. Either way, I want encourage you to share your thoughts because they hold value.
Peace & blessings reader
Xoxo
Eryana Taylor
Writing Prompts
Who is someone you consider to be a free Black woman? What do you admire about her and what parts of her make you uncomfortable?
What is something that you desire to experience but haven’t done out of fear?
What are some behaviors you believe or have heard are distasteful for black women to engage? What emotions do you feel when you witness black women exhibit these behavior?
Write about a time you judged a black woman before you got to know her and what you learned from the experience?
Do you believe that black women have a moral responsibility to one another? If yes, what does that look like? If no, why not?
What limitations do you believe black woman face? How do these limitations make you feel?
In what ways does society's opinion of black women work for you and against you?
