UnSung Sheroe: To All (Invisible) Women of Color

One day in a counseling session with a woman I shall call Ginger– I was given this anonymous piece which touched my heart. We had been discussing many things about how and why the Africana woman is invisible, yet her shoulders carry so many.  Ginger said that she had received this piece sent to her by a friend back in 1999.  She saved it and after our first talk, she made a mental note to bring it to me.  I mention this woman as “Ginger” only as a nickname.  Our sessions had been very important for redirecting her path for this lifetime, so that she can work towards exercising her passion.  Her life had been lived on the sidelines doing what was expected.  Ginger hopefully is now, working on a degree that will fill her passionate side and allow her the daily joy she deserves.

So many Women live for others, especially Women of Color. We carry the world, yet the world chooses to disregard our presence. I’ve seen film, TV shows and other media representing life as reality–where the Africana woman is ignored as though she does not exist, never existed. Recently a film I watched with my son and husband entitled “Eagle Eye” was in fact an excellent film. The plot was very good, the action typically riveting by Hollywood formula and the cast of characters ranged from international to nationally scenes, especially those shot here in Washington, D.C.

However, the one thing I noticed which was so terribly offensive is this.  There was not one African or African American woman in the entire picture.  Because the plot was negotiated around the world, there were scenes in many different locales, many races represented within a varied cross-section of the United States and various parts of the world.  There were African and AfricanAmerican men, but not one woman. I get the distinct impression that for some reason, we are considered unnecessary which makes us invisible, most certainly dispensable. It never ceases to boggle this mind that the media constantly chooses to ignore the presence and the necessary existence of black women throughout the world. We are here and we are going to become, yet more visible. That is the way the transformation will have it. Our contribution to this world has been considerable–yet we have stood by silently, been ignored, ridiculed and pressed by into the shadows…..with intimations of not being good enough, not pretty enough, not thin enough…just not enough.  We have been bold and yet we are not heard at times. Yes we have had to be fierce for our children and our men….while our men sometimes abandon us when the dominant culture makes him ashamed of us……yet we march on beside him—usually preferring him above all others.  We have carried more than our share of the weight of our families, our communities, our race….we have been sometimes the woman and the man…..but no doubt we are women…we are here and we will no longer be invisible.

This piece is dedicated this Black History Month (February 2009 )  and Women’s Month (March 2009). For all of the UnSung Sheroes  who are Anonymous and can relate to the proceeding words……..
THE STRONG BLACK WOMAN PASSED AWAY
(thoughtful commentary on life…)

On August 26, at 11:55pm., while struggling with the reality of being a human instead of a myth, the strong black woman passed away, w/out the slightest bit of hoopla. Medical sources say that she died of natural causes, but those who knew and used her know she died from: being silent when she should have been screaming, smiling when she should have been raging, being sick and not wanting anyone to know because her pain might inconvenience them.

An overdose of other people clinging on to her when she didn’t even have energy for herself.

She died from loving men who didn’t love themselves and could only offer her a crippled reflection. She died from raising children alone and for not doing a complete job.

She died from being sexually abused as a child and having to take the truth everywhere she went every day of her life, exchanging the humiliation for guilt and back again.

She died from being battered by someone who claimed to love her and she allowed the battering to go on to show she luvvv’d him too.

She died from asphyxiation, coughing up blood from secrets she kept trying to burn away instead of allowing herself the kind of nervous break-down she was entitled to, but only white girls could afford.

She died from being responsible, because she was the last rung on the ladder and there was no one under her she could dump on.

The strong black woman is dead. She died from the multiple births of children she never really wanted but was forced to have by the strangling morality of those around her. she died from being a mother at 15 and a grandmother at 30 and an ancestor at 45.

She died from being dragged down and sat upon by un-evolved women posing as Sisters.

She died from pretending the life she was living was a Kodak moment instead of a 20th Century, post-slavery nightmare!!! She died from tolerating Mr. Pitiful, just to have a man around the house.

She died from lack of orgasms because she never learned what made her body happy and no one took the time to teach her and sometimes, when she found arms that were tender, she died because they belonged to the same gender.

She died from sacrificing herself for everybody and everything when what she really wanted to do was be a singer, a dancer, or some magnificent Other.

She died from lies of omission because she didn’t want to bring the black man down………..

She died from race memories of being snatched and snatched and raped and snatched and sold and snatched and bred and snatched and whipped and snatched and worked to death.

She died from tributes from her counterparts who should have been matching her efforts instead of showering her with dead words and empty songs.

She died from myths that would not allow her to show weakness w/out being chastised by the lazy and hazy.

She died from hiding her real feelings until they became monstrously hard and bitter enough to invade her womb and breasts like angry tumors.

She died from always lifting something from heavy boxes to refrigerators.

The Strong Black Woman is Dead!
She died from the punishments received from being honest about life, racism and men. She died being called a bitch– for being verbal, a dyke for being assertive and a whore for picking her own lovers.

She died from being too Black…….
and died again for not being black enough.

She died from castration every time somebody thought of her as only a woman, or treated her like less than a man.

She died from being misinformed about her mind, her body [her spirit] and the extent of her Royal Capabilities.

She died from knees pressed too close together because respect was never part of the foreplay that was being shoved at her.  She died from loneliness in birthing rooms and aloneness in abortion centers.

She died of shock in courtrooms where she sat, alone, watching her children being legally lynched.

She died in bathrooms with her veins busting open with self-hatred and neglect.

She died in her mind, fighting life, racism, and men, while her body was carted away and stashed in a human warehouse for the spiritually mutilated.  And sometimes when she refused to die, when she refused to give in, she was killed by the lethal images of blonde hair, blue eyes and flat butts, rejected to death by the O.J’s, the Quincey’s and the Poitier’s.

Sometimes, she was stomped to death by racism and sexism, executed by hi-tech ignorance while she carried the family in her belly, the community on her head, and the race on her back!!!

The Strong Silent, Black Woman is Dead!!!
Or is she still alive and ticking????

I KNOW SHE IS STILL HERE.

AUTHOR: ANONYMOUS