Be well in America… as a Black woman?
All history is a current event.” John Henrick Clarke
As I write this blog, I feel pressured to make a point; to have my thoughts clearly portrayed; to offer a solution; to help someone; to not make anyone uncomfortable; to show up and show out; to meet and exceed expectations. I can’t be sure I have those things. I can’t see the future, I am in it right now.
Right now, I am the most abundant, financially stable, healthy, and UP I’ve ever been. I am also the most unwell and anxious I’ve ever been. I am tussling between being my best and worst self at the same exact time, existing in the now, the liminal space of Black womanhood. Black girlhood/ womanhood is best described by Venus Evans-Winters in Black Feminism in Qualitative Inquiry, as “existing in the liminality between softness and strength and vulnerability and resistance.” (P. 65)
As I acknowledge the duality of my existence at this moment, I’m holding onto Toni Cade Bambara, author of The Salt Eaters, reflective existential question: “Are you sure, sweetheart, that you want to be well?… Just so's you're sure, sweetheart, and ready to be healed, cause wholeness is no trifling matter. A lot of weight when you're well.”
Am I sure? A question to which my natural answer is YES of course, but upon further contemplation I wonder – How could I? Be well, that is, in this world, in this country, under these circumstances. There are multiple active concurrent genocides (FREE: Palestine, Sudan, Congo, et al.) happening in the world. What does it mean to be well in America as a Black woman? The answer feels like a paradoxical riddle. I was born from a poverty-stricken, determined Black woman and an even poorer Black man who could not fathom beyond his women and heroin addiction. I am most comfortable in community with other marginalized folks where the jokes, praises, and plays for power are all rooted in our shared and otherwise intersecting oppressions. So enriching, yet ironic.
Fact: I love my life, and I wouldn’t want to be anyone else! I am so proud of myself every day. I’ve emerged as a diamond from the (Hillside) rough, holding 2 degrees from Marquette University and explored 5 continents by age 26. I am funny, well-read, quick-witted, pretty, physically able, and I have my edges. I own assets and I have a fulfilling career. I am blessed beyond measure and I’m grateful. Yet still, I crave a peace, stillness, or sense of satisfaction that I can’t quite catch, no matter how many wins I won.
I’d like a boyfriend, eventually turned into a husband and life-partner, on the path to a full bi-directional legacy extension. No white picket fences in my personal vision, but I want the whole 9 yards, or should I say 40 acres. But our society doesn’t offer Black men enough opportunities to be vulnerable, experience restorative accountability, or learn about sharing power in leadership or intimate dynamics; And it models successful relationships after anti-Black patriarchy. As an educated and loud person, I am not interested in being dominated (or led by an “alpha male”) in my intimate spaces, but collaborated, partnered, and communicated with. As a young, Black, successful, and sexy woman, dating in Milwaukee is mostly punishment. The men (statistically) have increased chances of entanglement in the carceral system, may not have completed high school, and are unlikely to have experienced enough safety to have mindfully developed a sense of self (which would not be threatened by my wholeness).
I don't believe myself to be intimidating, but I've gotten this feedback. I can’t say for what particular reason, but it is true that I take up space; I shift the energy in a room. I ask compelling questions, invite introspection, and I can spot bullshit a mile away. Mental and intellectual stimulation is far and few between experiences with men (because I actually read books - rather than collect my insights from IG or FB). It is scarcely possible to expect a man to provide for me at scale when I understand the economic and carceral circumstances of Milwaukee. Y’all know WTF I’m talking about. It’s hard out here to date with standards
“I fall in love with myself, and I want someone to share it with me. And I want someone to share me, with me.” Eartha Kitt
Another Fact : With all these realities, I am resisting slipping into a familiar high-functioning depression all the time. As one who confidently argues that I am successful/ a winner at 26 and that “I made it”, I have to be mindful that my definitions of such ideas are not grounded in anti-Blackness; that my success does not distance me from people who look like me, or make me fear folks who currently live where I was raised, or mistakenly shape my personal value around my accomplishments, but also does not make me feel guilty and compelled to give more than I keep (people-pleasing). What can you enjoy when you’re well in an unwell society?
“You gotta be crooked to get along in a crooked world.” Warrior (S3: E7), Netflix
I have to keep going, keep being the exception, keep being a role model, keep giving back, keep showing up. AND I commit to staying in touch with true myself, lean into my wins and earned privileges, while also not ostracizing myself or others. I aim to leverage myself as a resource for my community, while also holding sustainable boundaries. I want to take care of my family, my people, but I am surely unsure of how to take care of myself. I want to give back, but how possible is it to give what you do not have? Or give again what you already gave away?
Currently for my wellness, I am practicing REST and PRESENCE - being where my feet are and not over-exerting myself. However, I (capitalism makes me) feel irresponsible if at every moment I’m not pursuing my dream-self or making money or getting better, efficient, faster. I must take a moment, that capitalism won’t offer, to realign my own self in this liminal space of who I used to be and who I am becoming.
Liminal space is the culmination of yesterday, today and tomorrow. Where, then, is the rest which acts as resistance? Where is the present moment when it is spent before it is earned under this system? Can we really save this broken world? Must Black women serve as guides for all others in the liminal space? What if we don’t know the way or have forgotten? How can Black women experience wellness? Under these circumstances? Wellness requires energy. I am exhausted. Our society is habitually overwhelmed, overstimulated, and misguided. At least for myself, I am invested in slowing down to find healing in the liminal space of NOW.