There was another time I learned just how selective feminism and women's work can be. After 30 plus years of service, there are too many. That time
There was another time I learned just how selective feminism and women’s work can be. After 30 plus years of service, there are too many.
That time when writer and actor Lena Dunham was being lifted by “feminist and women’s” organizations—even national rape organizations—
while questions swirled about her claims in her book, and what happened in her family.
We were trained experts in child abuse awareness, prevention, and crisis intervention.
Unlike the general public, we knew what we were reading.
And still, this very circle of people pretended not to see.
This was also the era of Bill Cosby allegations of sexual violence.
Organizations were lightning fast to join Black women in our questions, grief, and disappointment.
But when it came to coming alongside us in questioning Roman Polanski, Woody Allen, Lena Dunham and so many others—
the energy shifted. Like an earthquake.
Suddenly the response was: “Who do YOU think YOU are?”
My response: See, I know who I am. After having to learn about these various stylings of hate and healing- not because I wanted to but I HAD to -just to survive. After years of serving others, laughing with them, jumping around victoriously with other Survivors of violence, abuse, torture, and rape at miracles only we were foolish & faithful enough to believe in together; humbled, amazed, and shocked silly when the miracle came through…….
If I don’t know anything else, I know who I am.
So my question now is: Who are you?
I wrote my truth. (My truth: It was about my feelings and thoughts about the tragedy)
After seeing how my writing was being used, I pulled my writing about Bill Cosby from a then up and coming platform that later locked my account. I hadn’t necessarily changed my mind about the piece, I just wasn’t going to be used. So I didn’t want that piece used anymore.
Other platforms also went on to erase my digital writings that weren’t even about Bill Cosby at all.
It was their platform. They get to do that. But I came to understand how they wanted to use my background, expertise, gender, and cultural connection. I was not interested in that arrangement. It was a powerful season of lessons for me.
Because here’s the truth:
It isn’t that Black women don’t question the behavior of those outside of our community, as we are frequently accused of doing.
It’s that when we do—we are de-platformed. And many men in all communities would rather target us for speaking truth, than target the true harm doers. Some things never change.
And yet…
Life goes on.
Love goes on.
Work goes on.
Long after we depart from this place- and we all will someday- people will still want to know and model how we lived, loved, sang, danced, and so on. People that don’t even look like us will still put their feet in our footprints just as we did the warrior women that came before us.
Too much work to be done to dwell here too long.
But the lesson stays:
When Black women speak with clarity,
the world will try to silence us.
And still—we keep going.
Long after we are gone, our message of life and how to live it well carries on.