I’d like to start out by stating that this blog post is in no way shape or form an “I’m not like those Black people” blog post.
This is about the harm of internalizing stereotypes about Black women and how they
I’d be remiss to not mention my childhood and adolescent environment in the writing of this because it is absolutely a factor in why I struggle with this today.
I grew up in what was probably a middle-class family in a predominately white community and school environment. My experiences with other Black people were what could be deemed limited. I have a huge extended family down south, however, my parents moved hundreds of miles away for better job opportunities. I saw them every summer, but that’s very different than growing up with them. So most of what I knew about Blackness was my immediate family, my church, the few Black friends I was able to make, and media.
Now, I don’t mean to imply that my immediate family, church family, or few Black friends were some type of “other Black” but they fell in a particular area on the spectrum of Blackness that many not so lovingly call “suburban Blacks.” This means there was a level of respectability politics, a heavy focus on appealing to the “white gaze,” and overall not wanting to stick out if not for an
It also didn’t help that my Blackness was constantly up for critique by my non-Black peers. I was often told that I was “different” from other Black people and I never knew quite how to take it. It was said as a compliment, but I wanted nothing more than to be like my Black ass extended family, the other few Black kids that were in my school, and the Black people I saw on tv and read about in books. As a child, no matter how solid your foundation at home is, your peer group has a huge influence on how you view yourself. Being labeled an “Oreo” on more than a few occassions can really skew your self-image and wreak havoc on your self-esteem.
In some ways I hold resentment about this because I feel like I had a certain level of disconnect with Blackness of the present day ( I say present day because my family and church community were adamant about me knowing my history) and as an adult I had a lot of unlearning and catching up to do. However, I understand that this was one of the various survival tactics Black people employ. Some of us are surviving in a white supremacist society by embracing each other more tightly, and some of us are surviving by attempting to assimilate to mainstream, white culture. I’d like to believe that jig is up on the latter and more Black people are seeing and understanding the harm that comes with eschewing our rich culture for a society that has no intention as seeing us as equals, but that’s a post for another day.
Now to the actual topic at hand. When you grow up with limited representation of Black people surrounding you, the media you consume often fills in those blanks for you. You latch onto stereotypes of all kinds, whether positive or negative and can internalize them. As a Black girl that became a Black woman, I have internalized both the good and bad. I have been able to shake off and unlearn a lot of them, but many, the ones I wish to possess still trouble me.
I’ve written before about the harm that the “strong Black woman” stereotype can cause to the average Black woman, but also how it especially challenges me as a Black woman with a mental illness who has frequent breakdowns. I reject the idea of being strong because it doesn’t allow others to see me as vulnerable and my pain, my hurt, my trauma is dismissed. I just get a pat on the back and pushed back into the fray. This is one stereotype that I have finally been able to be okay with not leaning into with much work.
However, there are others that while just as harmful and limiting, I still can’t shake the feeling that I should embody them. Things like not being confrontational. Yes, I know that Black women are not all ready to go to war at the drop of a dime, but damn if that personality trait can’t be useful with getting shit done at times. I am not the “Black women get shit done” type that is lauded on social media and there is embarrassment around it for me. Depending on where I am
I am not an activist on the micro or the macro. I think this one particularly gets to me because I am friends with so many Black women who are activists and are doing amazing work. Am I supportive, absolutely, but I’m not on the front lines of anything and I’m not creating movements or doing “the work” as some say. This leads to feelings of guilt because I see the sacrifices being made and wonder if it’s because I’m not smart enough or brave enough or Black woman enough to be leading or tangibly contributing to something.
My mother embodies these attributes and in as many ways as we are similar we are also so very different. She is the Black woman that gets shit done no matter who is in her way. She is the Black woman that advocates for Black kids being pushed into the school to prison pipeline or side tracked to special education without the proper diagnoses or supports. Despite being that “suburban Black” as an adult, my mom still encompasses many of the stereotypical attributes that I wish I had. Is it because her upbringing was so vastly different than mine? Is it because she is a Black woman and this is somehow an innate ability in us; but if so, why not me?
My rational mind knows good and damn well that stereotypes are just that. Stereotypes. Not rooted in fact, but based on a script that someone else has written for us. My rational mind knows a lot, but it doesn’t stop my emotional mind from feeling bad about a lot of stuff that I should not. I know many Black women have had similar upbringings, but I wonder how many hold these same feelings. My main question is how do we let go of them and embrace the individuals that we are?
