It is possible to be both woke and tired. The senseless killings of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor lit up the world, causing cities across the world to pour into the streets to demand justice like never before. Not everyone can be on the frontlines – everyone's role in the revolution is different. From supporting bail funds to creating art to contacting public officials, everyone is essential.
That's why wellness has to be a priority for all of us, especially in these unprecedented times. You can't pour from an empty cup, beloved. OG Audre Lorde once said, "Caring for myself is not self-indulgence. It is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare."
We had the pleasure of catching up with three women on the frontlines making our world better. Keep reading to learn more about what activism means to them, how they persevere, and how they do self-care.
Niki Franco @venusroots
Photo Courtesy of Niki Franco
Name: Niki Franco
Pronouns: she/her/hers
Occupation: Community Organizer, Writer, and Podcast Host
Age: 26
Location: Miami, FL
What does activism mean to you?
My work as a community organizer means that I constantly push the envelope on what we understand to be true, which are usually internalized ideas that reinforce a harmful status quo and it also means I build deep relationships with folks in my community.
This is the time to be bold, to demand everything that we are owed. A new world is possible and it is being built in front of our eyes.
How long have you been an activist and what was your first taste of the social justice movement?
I originally came into movement through work of health inequities and reproductive justice (abortion access and more), but in the past three years, I have focused more on abolitionist work, the school-to-prison pipeline, and youth organizing. A very transformative moment for me was back in 2012 when I was in high school and the killing of Trayvon Martin happened, he was a year younger than I was at the time and just a few hours from Miami.
Why is self-care important now more than ever?
Boundaries! We don't have enough examples of what it means to have healthy boundaries in every aspect of our lives and throughout all types of relationships -- platonic, sexual, romantic, familial, or working, and it usually means we overextend ourselves and am in a constant state of depletion and toxic cycles.
Self-care and communal care are more important than ever because we are in unprecedented times of crisis and our resilience will have to evolve in more profound and expansive ways.
What is your self-care routine? How often do you practice it?
I go to therapy, I do somatics, I work out, I read a lot, I'm ritualistic about my skincare, I nurture my garden, I curate playlists to get me through different moods, I cook, and I try my best to rest and be gentle with myself. I tap into these practices constantly.
What's the hardest thing you've had to overcome in this pandemic within a pandemic?
It has been hard on my mental health. My emotions have gone through a lot of ebbs and flows in this time. I'm naturally an empath and have a deep sense of community. There has been a lot of uncertainty, pain, suffering, and compounding challenges - I have tried to stay rooted in my principles and be of support for myself and everyone I can.
What are some other things that help you navigate difficult times?
Bike rides! It makes me disconnect from the madness and [allows me to] just be caressed by the sun and the breeze. So simple, but such a gift.
What's your go-to mantra to pull you through difficult days?
"My ancestors prepared me for this. I am worthy. I am capable."
Melissa Denizard @themelissadenizard
Photo Courtesy of Melissa Denizard
Name: Melissa Denizard
Pronouns: she/her/hers
Occupation: Pro-Black Organizer, Activist, Political Education Educator, and Documentarian – Her politics are rooted in Black Feminism and the Black Radical Tradition, specifically through the lens of Haitian revolutionary politics.
Age: 21
Location: Spring Valley, NY
What does activism mean to you?
Activism, at least when it is in service to Black people and Indigenous people, is a very clear stance. That type of activism--the right type of activism--is saying that I believe in the sanctity of Black and Indigenous lives; that we are deserving of abundance, safety, love, and care. And though we live in a world characterized by scarcity, brutality, punitivity, and suffocation, my engagement in activism is saying that not only have we imagined a better world in which we are honored, we are actively fighting for and working towards that world every day. And we are willing to put everything on the line, including our lives, in order to reach that world.
Why is it important to you that you practice being an activist or activism in conjunction with the other roles in your life?
One time, I was giving a presentation on activism and afterward, someone in the audience--a Black woman, to my surprise at the time--minimized activism and organizing to merely protesting on the streets. Although I was very young, I vividly remember being appalled by her attempt to compartmentalize activism and organizing into one-off protests. In actuality, activism is an integral aspect of the global narrative; along with people who flood the streets demanding recourse for harm caused to their communities, there will always be a student who raises her voice in the classroom, two dissenting people who engage in debate, a community member hoping to pass legislation or a congregation with a desire for justice.
I found my entry into activism through my sheer frustration with my environment and my refusal to accept the status quo. I decided to make a lifelong commitment to pro-Black liberation because activism and organizing have given me the ability to synthesize my experiences and the experiences of others into vibrant narratives that can shift oppressive systems and our traditional ways of thinking. Activism is a way of life, rather than a single ideology that occurs in a silo.
It's time to start looking at activism and organizing beyond obligatory protesting. Yes, protests are a vital component of building, but it is equally crucial that we take a deep dive into how oppression seeps into every facet of our lives. As daunting as that sounds, I am certain that we can all be empowered to utilize activism that is rooted in pro-Blackness and Indigenity as a tool to dismantle systems of oppression to rebuild equitable political systems.
What does this time in history mean to you as an activist fighting for justice and equality?
Witnessing this time signifies to me that our rage is boiling over. We find ourselves in this moment because the United States has never experienced a reckoning for the history of racial capitalism, enslavement, and the displacement of Indigenous people on this land. Black people, Indigenous people, and people of color have never received justice for what was done to us.
Haitian culture and history have taught me that when someone does not receive justice for what has happened to them, a sensation of rage begins to ferment within them. In Haitian culture, we do not shy away from our rage. Instead, we tap into that rage. We are taught to cultivate and nurture our rage, thereby holding that rage very dearly to us until justice is served.
Until we forge a path forward so that we can realize a better world for Black people and Indigenous people, our rage will continue to ferment and boil over.
How long have you been an activist and what was your first taste of the social justice movement?
I've been organizing since I was 14. My entry into activism was actually through the manifestation of the Combahee River Collective's notion of identity politics. Identity politics attributes our identities, which dictate our socio-political and socio-economic positions, as our first introductions to politicization. My initial entryway into advocacy work was through #BringBackOurGirls--a cause specifically dedicated to the plight of Black girls in Nigeria. Before I knew Black Feminist theory, I simply saw myself in those Nigerian girls and organized on their behalf because I knew that their struggle was intertwined with mine. Since then, my organizing work has always been rooted in issues that I have a personal stake in.
Why is self-care important now more than ever?
I saw a tweet the other day that said if we want more Angela Davises, we must be willing to fund them and pour into them. Being on unemployment throughout this pandemic has helped me to realize what the government is depriving us of.
I recently graduated from college (and no, I won't say the name because those were the worst three years of my life), and as I've been applying to post-undergraduate professional opportunities, I have been reflecting upon healing, particularly how little time young adults are afforded to heal before being pushed to transition to the next stages in our lives. It should not be a common, American practice that we expect young people to undergo 16 years of schooling and then immediately plunge themselves into a capitalistic death trap.
Our swift departure to quarantine was, for me, a blessing in disguise. Having the chance to be home presented me with the opportunity to tie up some loose ends and quite frankly, make my final great escape from what has been my personal hell on earth. Most importantly, I finally had the chance to really reflect on all the trauma I've collected these past three years.
The job search has been tough for me — not because I haven't been finding listings, but because it's hard to find the motivation to entrap myself in what will eventually become a lifelong cycle of working to stay alive. For the rest of my life, I would much rather work to service my community rather than to engage in labor to preserve my sustenance and survival. We shouldn't have to sacrifice our leisure or comfort for labor.
I've been working since I was 16. In high school, I worked 40 hours a week to help support myself and my family financially. In college, I worked three or four jobs a semester just so that I could buy groceries and meet my basic needs. My experience with labor is rooted in scarcity — never having enough time or money; never having enough time to enjoy the money I'm making or never having enough money to engage in leisurely activities. Now that I have enough time AND money, I can't help but feel weird and out of place.
What this pandemic has offered me, is a glimpse into what's possible when the government supplements our basic needs so that we don't have to kill ourselves in order to live. I don't think we congratulate our graduates enough for surviving college, nor do we honor the marginalized people in our lives--particularly Black and Indigenous women and Queer folks--who are still standing despite having their livelihoods threatened almost every single day. So, I want to honor all of us who survived.
To those of us who are, although emerging fragmented rather than whole, I implore you to consider how you will heal from it all. You deserve it.
What is your self-care routine? How often do you practice it?
I don't yet have a well-established self-care routine. Currently, I am interrogating why I believe I am not deserving of rest. So I've been going to therapy; I am so happy to be working with a Black woman who holds my trauma and anxiety with love and care.
What's the hardest thing you've had to overcome in this pandemic within a pandemic?
Dissociating from work has been difficult. Now, I can't distinguish if I'm going online for productivity or leisure. It feels like there's never an adequate time to rest.
What are some other things that help you navigate difficult times?
I've recently developed a practice of talking to my ancestors. A friend of mine advised me to pray in the shower. Praying to my ancestors in the shower allows them to cleanse me of any bad spirits, anxieties, or feelings of inadequacy. I often ask my ancestors to guide and protect me, and I thank them for the love and care they extend to me. Cultivating a relationship with my ancestors has been incredibly grounding for me, especially as I continue to deepen my commitment to movement building.
What's your go-to mantra to pull you through difficult days?
"Mwen led, mwen la: I'm ugly but I'm here." Among Haitian women, this phrase, although aesthetically displeasing, is a sign of survival. It explains why, for all my life, I've always described my mother's face—creased with wrinkles and hardship—as never beautiful, but hard. The bags under her eyes weren't designer nor were her raggedy mumus and tired work attire.
According to American beauty standards, she wasn't beautiful. But her struggle was weaved with prophetic dreams of glory; that one day, the work she did would propel her immigrant children into financial stability. So, I carry this with me because it is a reminder that I will be propelled forward by my ancestors.
Ryann Richardson @theryannrichardson
Photo Courtesy of Ryann Richardson
Name: Ryann Richardson
Pronouns: she/her/hers
Occupation: Tech Founder, Keynote Speaker, and Miss Black America
Age: 30
Location: Brooklyn, NY
What does activism mean to you?
I think activism might actually be the meaning of life. While the specific avenues and tactics that we use to exercise it are different for every individual, I do think of activism at its core as a personal responsibility that all of us bear, but only some of us actually step up to accept. You're given one life and I think the measure of success in it might be what you do to improve the world that life exists in.
Why is it important to you that you practice being an activist or activism in conjunction with the other roles in your life?
My role as Miss Black America is first and foremost about service to Black American communities, so my activism is the foundation of my job; everything else is ornamental. On the flip-side, my business career has demonstrated to me how the industry is the single most powerful influence over American culture and the sectors that drive economic growth (like mine: tech) dictate how our society functions. So, business leaders have to exercise an activist mindset in their operations if we're going to see solutions to systemic injustice follow.
What does this time in history mean to you as an activist fighting for justice and equality?
This moment is unique and really promising. This isn't the first time the country has been faced with public outcry for racial justice. But now, for the first time, that outcry is being compounded by three other huge factors: a population that's more diverse (and more socially progressive) than ever before, a global pandemic that has turned Americans into a, literally, captive news audience, and financial insecurity for consumer businesses as a result of the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression. No one can ignore the calls for justice and with more people than ever identifying with the experience of BIPOC in America, the country's private business sector can't afford the financial penalty of not supporting progress. It just seems like the perfect storm for systemic change.
How long have you been an activist and what was your first taste of the social justice movement?
When I was a teenager, every year my Catholic school would take a school-wide field trip to the largest anti-choice rally and march in the U.S. I protested the trip being presented as an official school activity and linked to class credit and refused to attend. It was the first time I remember explicitly challenging an expectation set by institutional authority because it didn't align with my values.
Why is self-care important now more than ever?
We're on the cusp of a revolution. And while there's more working in favor of justice than ever before, winning the fight to fundamentally change our country is still going to be the greatest challenge of our lifetime. Black women are the leading forces in this movement, in our communities, and in our families. We'll have to be the ones who carry this movement on our back and across the finish line.
But we can't do it if our tanks are already running on E. We have to invest in nourishing ourselves (and require that those around us support that nourishment) for us to be the effective leaders we'll need to be at the most important moment in our history.
What is your self-care routine? How often do you practice it?
I have to be sensitive to my own mental and emotional health. Even in "normal" times, our society is already chock full of all kinds of obstacles and pits that Black women uniquely face on our paths to wellness. During this moment, the mental and emotional trap doors are everywhere and it's even harder to navigate. For me, self-care has meant taking periodic breaks from being present in the fight.
I regularly reset emotionally by completely unplugging from the news and social media for a day or two; I actually went dark for a full week recently. I know I'll miss some things, and frankly, that's exactly what I need. I also center myself mentally by temporarily shifting my productivity efforts from serious advocacy work to something more recreational. The total absence of work generally doesn't serve my self-care needs, but if once a week I can replace writing, speaking, organizing voters, etc. with building a new table or reorganizing my closet (or spending the day learning how to do knotless box braids), that allows me to reinvest in the important stuff refreshed.
What's the hardest thing you've had to overcome in this pandemic within a pandemic?
Being largely stuck at home and away from friends and family has meant not being able to turn to in-person social interaction as a palette cleanser when work (or life) gets too heavy. Like most of us, I've relied on video happy hours and FaceTime as a substitute but, admittedly, it's not quite the same.
What are some other things that help you navigate difficult times?
Phone calls with my parents, going on long walks with my dog, sparkling rosé, and remembering that nothing lasts forever.
What's your go-to mantra to pull you through difficult days?
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Featured image courtesy of Ryann Richardson
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So, we handpicked one hundred It Girls who embody that palpable It Factor moving through us as young Black women, the kind of motion lighting up the world both IRL and across the internet.
It Girl 100 became xoNecole’s most successful program, with the hashtag organically reaching more than forty million impressions on Instagram in just twenty-four hours. Yes, it caught on like wildfire because we celebrated some of the most brilliant and influential GenZennial women of color setting trends and shaping culture. But more than that, it resonated because the women we celebrated felt seen.
Many were already known in their industries for keeping this generation fly and lit, but rarely received recognition or flowers. It Girl 100 became a safe space to be uplifted, and for us as Black women to bask in what felt like an era of our brilliance, beauty, and boundless influence on full display.
And then, almost overnight, it was as if the rug was pulled from under us as Black women, as the It Girls of the world.
Our much-needed, much-deserved season of ease and soft living quickly metamorphosed into a time of self-preservation and survival. Our motion and economic progression seemed strategically slowed, our light under siege.
The air feels heavier now. The headlines colder. Our Black girl magic is being picked apart and politicized for simply existing.
With that climate shift, as we prepare to launch our second annual It Girl 100 honoree list, our team has had to dig deep on the purpose and intention behind this year’s list. Knowing the spirit of It Girl 100 is about motion, sauce, strides, and progression, how do we celebrate amid uncertainty and collective grief when the juice feels like it is being squeezed out of us?
As we wrestled with that question, we were reminded that this tension isn’t new. Black women have always had to find joy in the midst of struggle, to create light even in the darkest corners. We have carried the weight of scrutiny for generations, expected to be strong, to serve, to smile through the sting. But this moment feels different. It feels deeply personal.
We are living at the intersection of liberation and backlash. We are learning to take off our capes, to say no when we are tired, to embrace softness without apology.
And somehow, the world has found new ways to punish us for it.
In lifestyle, women like Kayla Nicole and Ayesha Curry have been ridiculed for daring to choose themselves. Tracee Ellis Ross was labeled bitter for speaking her truth about love. Meghan Markle, still, cannot breathe without critique.
In politics, Kamala Harris, Letitia James, and Jasmine Crockett are dragged through the mud for standing tall in rooms not built for them.
In sports, Angel Reese, Coco Gauff, and Taylor Townsend have been reminded that even excellence will not shield you from racism or judgment.
In business, visionaries like Diarrha N’Diaye-Mbaye and Melissa Butler are fighting to keep their dreams alive in an economy that too often forgets us first.
Even our icons, Beyoncé, Serena, and SZA, have faced criticism simply for evolving beyond the boxes society tried to keep them in.
From everyday women to cultural phenoms, the pattern is the same. Our light is being tested.
And yet, somehow, through it all, we are still showing up as that girl, and that deserves to be celebrated.
Because while the world debates our worth, we keep raising our value. And that proof is all around us.
This year alone, Naomi Osaka returned from motherhood and mental health challenges to reach the semifinals of the US Open. A’ja Wilson claimed another MVP, reminding us that beauty and dominance can coexist. Brandy and Monica are snatching our edges on tour. Kahlana Barfield Brown sold out her new line in the face of a retailer that had been canceled. And Melissa Butler’s company, The Lip Bar, is projecting a forty percent surge in sales.
We are no longer defining strength by how much pain we can endure. We are defining it by the unbreakable light we continue to radiate.
We are the women walking our daily steps and also continuing to run solid businesses. We are growing in love, taking solo trips, laughing until it hurts, raising babies and ideas, drinking our green juice, and praying our peace back into existence.
We are rediscovering the joy of rest and realizing that softness is not weakness, it is strategy.
And through it all, we continue to lift one another. Emma Grede is creating seats at the table. Valeisha Butterfield has started a fund for jobless Black women. Arian Simone is leading in media with fearless conviction. We are pouring into each other in ways the world rarely sees but always feels.
So yes, we are in the midst of societal warfare. Yes, we are being tested. Yes, we are facing economic strain, political targeting, and public scrutiny. But even war cannot dim a light that is divinely ours.
And we are still shining.
And we are still softening.
And we are still creating.
And we are still It.
That is the quiet magic of Black womanhood, our ability to hold both truth and triumph in the same breath, to say yes, and to life’s contradictions.
It is no coincidence that this year, as SheaMoisture embraces the message “Yes, And,” they stand beside us as partners in celebrating this class of It Girls. Because that phrase, those two simple words, capture the very essence of this moment.
Yes, we are tired. And we are still rising.
Yes, we are questioned. And we are the answer.
Yes, we are bruised. And we are still beautiful.
This year’s It Girl 100 is more than a list. It is a love letter to every Black woman who dares to live out loud in a world that would rather she whisper. This year’s class is living proof of “Yes, And,” women who are finding ways to thrive and to heal, to build and to rest, to lead and to love, all at once.
It is proof that our joy is not naive, our success not accidental. It is the reminder that our light has never needed permission.
So without further ado, we celebrate the It Girl 100 Class of 2025–2026.
We celebrate the millions of us who keep doing it with grace, grit, and glory.
Because despite it all, we still shine.
Because we are still her.
Because we are still IT, girl.
Meet all 100 women shaping culture in the It Girl 100 Class of 2025. View the complete list of honorees here.
Featured image by xoStaff
Then there were those who gave up their zip code altogether and found a permanent home in the skies. After years spent recruiting students for a university, Lisa-Gaye Shakespeare became a full-time travel influencer and founded her travel company, Shakespeare Agency. And she's not alone.
These stories mirror the experiences of women across the world. For millions, the pandemic induced a seismic shift in priorities and desires. Corporate careers that were once hailed as the ultimate “I made it” moment in one's career were pushed to the back burner as women quit their jobs in search of a more self-fulfilling purpose.
xoNecole spoke to these three Black women who used the pandemic as a springboard to make their wildest dreams a reality, the lessons they learned, and posed the question of whether they’ll ever return to cubicle life.
Answers have been edited for context and length.
xoNecole: How did the pandemic lead to you leaving the cubicle?
Randi: I was becoming stagnant. I was working in mortgage and banking but I felt like my personality was too big for that job! From there, I transitioned to radio but was laid off during the pandemic. That’s what made me go full throttle with entrepreneurship.
Gabrielle: I moved around a lot for work. Five times over a span of seven years. I knew I needed a break because I had experienced so much. So, I just quit one day. Effective immediately. I didn’t know what I was going to do, I just knew I needed a break and to just regroup.
Lisa-Gaye: I was working in recruiting at a university and my dream job just kind of fell into my lap! But, I never got to fully enjoy it before the world shut down in March [2020] and I was laid off. On top of that, I was stuck in Miami because Jamaica had closed its borders due to the pandemic before I was able to return.
Randi O
xoN: Tell us about your journey after leaving Corporate America.
Randi: I do it all now! I have a podcast, I’m an on-air talent, I act, and I own a public relations company that focuses on social media engagement. It’s all from my network. When you go out and start a business, you can’t just say, “Okay I’m done with Corporate America,” and “Let me do my own thing.” If you don’t build community, if you don’t build a network it's going to be very hard to sustain.
Gabrielle: I realized in New York, there was not a lot to do for Black lesbians and queer folks. We don’t really have dedicated bars and spaces so I started doing events and it took off. I started focusing on my brand, Raw Honey. I opened a co-working space, and I was able to host an NYC Pride event in front of 100,000 people. I hit the ground running with Raw Honey. My events were all women coming to find community and come together with other lesbians and queer folks. I found my purpose in that.
Lisa-Gaye: After being laid off, I wrote out all of my passions and that’s how I came up with [my company] Shakespeare Agency. It was all of the things that I loved to do under one umbrella. The pandemic pulled that out of me. I had a very large social media following, so I pitched to hotels that I would feature them on my blog and social media. This reignited my passion for travel. I took the rest of the year to refocus my brand to focus solely on being a content creator within the travel space.
Gabrielle
xoN: What have you learned about yourself during your time as an entrepreneur?
Randi: [I learned] the importance of my network and community that I created. When I was laid off I was still keeping those relationships with people that I used to work with. So it was easy for me to transition into social media management and I didn’t have to start from scratch.
Gabrielle: The biggest thing I learned about myself was my own personal identity as a Black lesbian and how much I had assimilated into straight and corporate culture and not being myself. Now, I feel comfortable and confident being my authentic self. Now, I'm not sacrificing anything else for my career. I have a full life. I have friends. I have a social life. And when you are happy and have a full quality of life, I feel like [I] can have more longevity in my career.
Lisa-Gaye: [I'm doing] the best that I've ever done. The discipline that I’m building within myself. Nobody is saying, ‘Oh you have to be at work at this time.’ There’s no boss saying, ‘Why are you late?’ But, if I’m laying in bed at 10 a.m. then it's me saying [to myself], 'Okay, Lisa, get up, it's time for you to start working!’ That’s all on me.
xoNecole: What mistakes do you want to help people avoid when leaving Corporate America?
Randi: You have to learn about the highs and lows of entrepreneurship. You have a fast season and a slow season and I started to learn that when you're self-employed the latter season hits hard. Don't get caught up on the lows, just keep going and don't stop. I’m glad I did.
Gabrielle: I think everyone should quit their job and just figure it out for a second. You will discover so much about yourself when you take a second to just focus on you. Your skill set will always be there. You can’t be afraid of what will happen when you bet on yourself.
Lisa-Gaye: When it comes to being an influencer the field is saturated and a lot of people suffer from imposter syndrome. There is nothing wrong with being an imposter but find out how to make it yours, how to make it better. If you go to the store, you see 10 million different brands of bread! But you are choosing the brand that you like because you like that particular flavor.
So be an imposter, but be the best imposter of yourself and add your own flair, your own flavor. Make the better bread. The bread that you want.
Lisa-Gaye Shakespeare
xoNecole: Will you ever return to your 9 to 5?
Randi: I wouldn’t go back to Corporate America. But I don’t mind working under someone. A lot of people try to get into this business saying, “I can't work under anyone.” That’s not necessarily the reason to start a business because you're always going to answer to somebody. Clients, brands, there’s always someone else involved.
Gabrielle: I went back! I really needed a break and I gave myself that. But, I realized I’m a corporate girl, [and] I enjoy the work that I do. I’m good at it and I really missed that side of myself. I have different sides of me and my whole identity is not Raw Honey or my queerness. A big side of me is business and that’s why I love having my career. Now I feel like my best self.
Lisa-Gaye: I really don’t. For right now, I love working for myself. It's gratifying, it's challenging, it's exciting. It’s a big deal for me to say I own my own business. That I am my own boss, and I'm a Black woman doing it.
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Featured image courtesy of Lisa-Gaye Shakespeare
Originally published on February 6, 2023