The Myth of the Strong Black Woman
The Myth of the Strong Black Woman
Deconstructing the myth that strong, black women must take it all in stride. A reminder of where we came from, where we are headed, and the care we deserve and need along the way.
As Black History Month comes to a close, I wanted to take some time to speak on a topic that is not only near to my heart, but affects me on the daily. The myth of the strong black woman, to me, is the idea that we as black women can be all things to all persons all the time without need for replenishment, recharging, or self-care. So what’s with the “myth” of it all? I call it a myth because it is a falsehood which has been perpetuated to underscore concepts that aren't true but provide comfort (to others) and a rationale for unrealistic expectations of black women. In the midst of Black History month, this struck me as timely. Due to the oppressive nature of the times while black people have lived on these shores, there are many reasons why black women have felt like they had no choice but to be strong.
I am talking about this now so that those who walk with me under the weight of the myth of the strong black woman resonate with my experiences … women of strength do not exist as an island.
Shocker? I’ve been black my whole life. I don't know another plane of existence. I was raised, nurtured, and loved by black people. I have been blessed to see how much we are able to achieve while also being mindful of the history that precedes me. That is a heavy weight to bear. I am talking about this now so that those who walk with me under the weight of the myth of the strong black woman resonate with my experiences and understand that strength does not mean functioning in solitude. From a young age, I was the recipient of the care and love of multiple generations of strong black women. When I look back at how they cared for and loved me, I remember that they were strong, resilient, and “no-nonsense” women. But women of strength do not exist as an island. I now appreciate that they could not be the strong women that they were without self-care and taking time for themselves: AKA the key to deconstructing the Myth.
On a broad spectrum, every time I leave my house, it is imperative that I present as strong and confident. Unfortunately there are historical precedents that have led to random people assigning negative attributes to me before I even speak. This need to present strong was thrust upon me at a young age. I would be in educational settings where I was in the minority (sometimes the only black person in the room). Some teachers treated me like everyone else, some were subtly racist, while some would comment on how articulate my speech was (code for “Wow, a black person knows the English language?!”). I would be singled out and asked my opinion on the Cosby Show or Jesse Jackson running for president. I can laugh about it now, but I quickly realized I needed to “keep it together”, keep it in, and not show frustration, embarrassment, or outright bewilderment. Even at 15-16 years old, I felt like my responses were carrying a lot of weight because I was the only black person in the room.
As years went on and I stepped into the medical field, I found that many of these biases followed me. An assumption as a black medical provider is that I knew less than my white counterparts. This has manifested by surprise that I knew what I was talking about or blanket disdain while I was speaking. On the flipside of the medical community, as patients, black women have historically received poor, (at times downright inhumane) care. This is a malignant outgrowth of falsehood that black people are less than human, inferior, etc. when compared to white people. Dr. J. Marion Sims, lauded for a while as the “father of gynecology” (educated at Jefferson, my alma mater) was not convinced that black women experienced pain similarly to their white counterparts. He would conduct “experiments” on enslaved women as he did not take their pain seriously, furthering the belief that our suffering is not met with the same amount of gravity.
Now, it’s not all bad. As a provider, I’ve been met with relief and welcoming by others seeking care. They were looking for a provider of color to enhance their sense of safety. I was someone who would “get it” as they invited me into sensitive areas of their lives. As a psychiatrist, I speak to other black women about this myth, and I’m met with a smile or knowing nod because we’ve all been through it. It is so tempting to join in on that myth and not feel our feelings. Black women are often the CFO, the COO, the Chief Meal Officer, the Chief Shopping Officer, the Chief Cleaning Officer, and the Chief Activities Officer of their households. She has to figure out how she will hold it all together. That is very stressful even when it's rewarding. When it's stressful, it's important to FEEL that stress and not look away. When you look away from it, it follows you like a specter. When you let yourself feel, it may show up in your tear ducts, your heart beat, or your stomach. It can be unsettling, but it is important not to look away. When you look away, you miss the signal your body is giving you to SLOW DOWN. Listen, feel, leave the island, and show yourself the care you need and deserve.
We change the myth by deconstructing it … The myth is changing slowly, but there is still work to be done.
So, how do we change this perception? How do we squash this “myth” while honoring our plight as black women?
We change the myth by deconstructing it. I don't want anyone to come away with the idea that we are not strong. History testifies in volumes that black women are strong. The part of the myth that I would like to deconstruct is that being strong means not asking for help and being FINE all the time. That's not true. The toughest beam of steel shows cracks when under stress. In times of stress the strongest of us benefit from being fortified. From where I sit as a psychiatrist, fortification means recharging, replenishment, fellowship, self-care, and seeking out help when we may benefit from it. We all lose when we telegraph to black women that they should feel ashamed or weak when reaching out for help. The myth is changing slowly but there is still work to be done. We all benefit when this myth is deconstructed and we give and take the care that we all inherently need.
Sources:
The Surgeon who Experimented on Slaves
The controversial legacy of Jefferson University-educated 'father of gynecology'
