Many believe the 1980s to early 2000s were a time of racial harmony in America, especially within the women's movement to end violence. But for Black,
Many believe the 1980s to early 2000s were a time of racial harmony in America, especially within the women’s movement to end violence. But for Black, Indigenous, and other marginalized people, the silence around colonialism, slavery, systemic racism, and generational trauma told a very different story.
💥 The Myth: “It Was Peaceful, Post-Racial, and Unified”
The Voting Rights Act had passed.
“The Cosby Show” was on TV.
Oprah was rising.
VAWA (Violence Against Women Act) became law in 1994.
People pointed to Black celebrities, interracial friendships, or high-profile political appointments as proof that things were “better.” That “we were past all that.”
But that’s not what many of us lived through. Not at all.
🎯 The Reality: Racial Silence, Suppression, and Tokenism
Especially inside the mainstream movement to end violence against women, many of us experienced:
1. Representation Without Respect
The handful who were hired often left quickly—driven out by isolation, erasure, and hostility to our truths.
2. Hostility to Historical Truths
We were told:
“Don’t make this about race.”
“That’s divisive.”
“We’re all women here.”
“This is a class issue, not a race issue.” (Oh? Please tell that to the racists who are acting out of some unreasonable and dangerous contempt for people who look like me. Tell them. )Â
Any attempt to speak about:
Colonialism
Slavery’s legacy
The epidemic of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women
Generational trauma or systemic poverty
…was often met with accusations of being racist, angry, or off-topic.
You could attend a “diversity” panel, but not name the root causes.
3. Solutions Demanded, But Truths Denied
We were asked to:
“Help reach your community.”
“Bring them in.”
“Translate and build trust.”
But when we spoke plainly about why trust was broken—
when we named the medical neglect, police violence, family court failures, or language access barriers—
We were punished for being “negative.”
📺 “But There Were Black People on TV…”
This line was used like a weapon:
“I don’t get what you mean. There were Black people on TV. There was Oprah!”
As if TV presence erased real-world inequity.
Meanwhile:
Black women were still dying at the hands of partners at disproportionate rates.
Indigenous women were still going missing without a trace.
Women of color advocates were being undermined, silenced, or tokenized.
Television didn’t protect us. Visibility is not the same as justice.
🛑 Why This Myth Still Hurts Us Today
This revisionist memory keeps us stuck.
It allows people to say:
“Why are you bringing up race again?”
“Things were better before everyone got so divided.”
But here’s the truth:
There was no true harmony. There was just enforced silence.
🔥 Let’s Tell the Whole Story
If we are serious about ending violence against women, we must be serious about telling the truth:
Yes, there was limited progress.
Yes, some brave spaces were carved by brave people and on the backs of even braver people.
But Black, Indigenous, and other marginalized voices were sidelined, especially when we spoke about the deeper, harder truths.
🌱 The Path Forward: Legacy and Correction
We are still here.
We didn’t vanish—we built parallel movements, found each other, and kept the fire lit.
We survived being silenced.
We survived being sidelined.
Now we are telling the whole story—and it’s still being written.
🧠Call to Action
If you care about ending violence, ask yourself:
Whose voices were left out then?
Who is being asked to stay silent now?
Are you listening to Survivors—or just the story that feels comfortable?
Let’s build truth-based movements.
Let’s honor the wisdom of those who were there—even when the room wasn’t ready for them.
