In recent years, books written by Black women, such as Viola Davis, Michelle Obama, and Taraji P. Henson, have adorned our shelves and shown the great trials and tribulations one has had to endure to become the woman we see today. Though their narratives show great accomplishments, they explain in detail the price that had to be paid to achieve their monumental success. Often, this price came at the cost of having to endure unspeakable tragedy. The world was being carried on their shoulders and backs, and they had to learn to balance the weight of it all. Despite the odds, they managed to grow and become exceptionally talented women with limited support or, most of the time, alone.
However, in A'ja Wilson's recently published book, Dear Black Girls, this narrative is changing for the better. The memoir shows that WNBA superstar, and growing legend, A'ja Wilson isn't just a force to reckon with on the court, racking up championships, MVP awards, Olympic gold, and season-record-breaking accomplishments. Her impact transcends the game, reaching into the hearts of young Black women and girls, who like me might have once felt a pang of otherness for embracing their inner tomboy.
Wilson's recently published book offered a powerful remedy, a story that mirrored my own experiences and gently soothed the wounds of not always fitting in. This collection of honest stories is not just about Wilson's journey, it's also a book that holds the potential to heal and inspire countless other Black girls who deserve to see themselves reflected in the pages of a champion.
Although Wilson discusses the tribulations she had to overcome, she didn't have to do them alone and often had more than one support system installed to ensure her success. This book ultimately shows the beauty that grows when Black girls are raised with nourishment, intentionality, and understanding rather than the unrelenting grief and sadness that many believe are necessary to raise Black girls.
In Dear Black Girls: How to Be True to You, the two-time MVP shows us that love, rather than unending tragedy, can be the source of success for all Black girls--past, present, and future. Wilson also shows us how love can occasionally come from an unexpected source--a stranger who only has compassion, empathy, and understanding to offer.
Living While Black
There comes a point in time, in every Black girl's life, where they learn that they are not just a girl, but a Black girl. For me, it was on the playground of my elementary school, where a white girl--who I thought was my friend--called me the n-word when I refused to join her in a fight against a mutual friend. For A'ja Wilson, it was when her "friend" refused to invite her to her house for a sleepover, unless she slept outside. When asked why she had to be the only one to sleep outside, she was quickly informed it had been due to her race. Though her parents discussed it with her and explained why she and the young lady could no longer be friends, A'ja Wilson offers a relatable lens to express the grief of realizing one's otherness.
The year she discovered her Blackness meant a difference, Wilson felt alone and began isolating herself. It wasn't until she met a woman who worked in the cafeteria that she understood the importance of being seen by someone who looked like her. In Dear Black Girls, Wilson teaches the importance of representation and finding someone who "looks like you" and actively cares and checks in with you. Though the young readers of this book will most likely never meet Wilson, she provides her novel as a stand-in role model who actively sees how alone some Black girls feel in the world and tells them lovely: "I see you, I got you."
Finding Oneself
There is a certain power in discovering one's "why." In Dear Black Girls, Wilson explains that in order to find oneself or one's reasons for doing things, it might be important to look to your elders. The ones that could make you believe in yourself. For Wilson, it was her grandmother. Her grandmother was her place of solace and the person she felt closest to. Before she picked up the game of basketball, A'ja's grandmother believed she was special and would achieve so many things in life.
Through this belief, she nurtured Wilson and taught her to believe in the good that everyone had to possess. She taught Wilson that Black women could be heroes, and knew how to "walk the walk" and "talk the talk." She taught Wilson, and in turn, Wilson has taught Black girls, that finding oneself can be done at the hands of the ones that we love. And that if one's love is strong enough, we can "freeze it, and preserve that safe space forever."
It's Okay to Be Different
In school, Wilson was considered a "slow learner." Diagnosed with dyslexia at the late age of 16, she believed she had not been as "smart" as the other kids. Wilson would freeze up in class, and despite loving to write narratives and the school itself, she found she did not catch on with her peers as quickly as she liked. She spent hours on end stressing about being different, so much so, that at times the thought of her otherness became debilitating and all-consuming. With her family and in her solitude, she understood who she was. However, among her friends and in class, she found that she didn't know who she was, nor who they wanted her to be.
From this, she taught Black girls that being a teen is stressful enough, so being oneself should be easily embraced. Though, she admits to not knowing the right thing to say, do, or act, and therefore is unable to give us "cheat codes," the best thing a young Black girl can do, is just be.
Find Your Gardener
I often say that Black women have learned to grow without nourishment. So, in reading Dear Black Girl, it was a refreshing change of pace to read that Wilson had been adorned with love, guidance, honesty, and protection by strong support systems in her life. One of those support systems was Wilson's father. Her father taught her many things in life, but one that was most essential was the importance of perseverance and overcoming mediocrity. See, despite being the best in her career, Wilson and basketball did not mesh well from the start. Instead, she had been known to try many things and was lackluster at best.
Nevertheless, when Wilson was told that she did not play well by her father--after asking why she wasn't getting any playing time--she finally learned to overcome her challenges.
Not because she suddenly practiced more, or believed she could do anything with time. She became better because her father gave her the option to walk away from the sport. He allowed her to be scared, to be unsure of what she wanted in life, and freed her of the stress of absolutes. Through encouragement, he became her gardener--always trying to bring out the best in her through "easy" and "tough" love. In Dear Black Girls, Wilson encourages Black girls to find their "gardeners," the people in their lives who bring out the best in them, drive them crazy and are never afraid to tell them how it is. The person that pulls out all of the weeds and negativity, and leaves enough space for you to receive sunlight and bloom.
Gaining a Nonsense Detector
While finding a gardener, Wilson also encourages Black girls to find or gain a "nonsense detector." A nonsense detector is just as it sounds, someone who can detect the nonsense that the world is attempting to bring to them and help them identify what it truly is. They are the person who is willing to approach a spade and call it by its name. In Wilson's life, this was her mother. A'ja's mom encouraged her to think logically about her education and its relationship to her basketball career.
She was the person Wilson called when she learned to drive in a new state or deal with the stress of her newfound career. Through her mother's encouragement, she learned not to chase after boys or some concept of a new sense of self, instead, she learned to make decisions with her best interest in mind. In doing so, she chose family, which meant more time with her grandmother, which she would not have had if she hadn't learned to listen to something that encourages no-nonsense.
Grief Has No Timeline, Knows No Bounds
In 2017, during her junior year of college, A'ja Wilson was known as one of the best players in the NCAA. After two seasons of coming up short of winning a national title, she had finally accomplished her goal of winning with Dawn Staley's South Caroline Gamecocks. However, the win was bittersweet, because the champ had been grieving the loss of her grandmother, one of her biggest support systems.
During this time, Wilson discovered that grief could not be neatly packed away in a box, waiting to be unraveled when she had prepared to deal with it. She noted that it was an unending rollercoaster where lows felt all-consuming and endless.
In Dear Black Girls, Wilson discusses the importance of experiencing grief at its pace, and on your own timeline. She explains to young Black girls that the feeling of despair and paralysis is normal and that instead of trying to climb out of the sadness, sometimes it is beneficial to wade through it, with the people you care about. Not only this, she encourages Black girls to embrace support that may be considered unexpected, through a beautiful anecdote involving Dawn Staley.
The champ mentioned the coach drove down to her house, upon hearing about the death of her grandmother, and sat in silence with the athlete as she cried. She informed her that she could take all of the time that she needed and that the "team would be waiting for her when she was ready to return."
You Don't Know What You Don't Know
The issue that many people hold today is they expect to be perfect. Though we know perfection is merely a concept, and the only thing perfect about perfection is the word itself, many dwell on being perfect and having the foresight to ensure it is so. When perfection is inevitably unattainable, we punish ourselves for not knowing better or being fallible. Nevertheless, dwelling on things, especially in relation to being perfect, is nothing more than wasted energy.
In Dear Black Girls, Wilson--through a humorous anecdote of her WNBA drafting day--points out that everyone makes mistakes and that many should not be ashamed for not knowing what they hadn't known before. Instead, beauty lies in learning and giving oneself credit for the knowledge that you now have for navigating future situations. Instead of beating yourself up, Wilson tells young Black girls there is no point in beating themselves up and to allow grace in moments of uncertainty and error.
Protect and Nurture Your Mental Health
The idea of seeking therapy is often a hurdle for Black women. With societal expectations and generational aversions, the concept of the "strong Black woman" often overpowers the necessary, and sometimes dire assistance Black women should seek. In Dear Black Girls, A'ja Wilson points out that most Black women are the first, or one of few, in their families to accomplish significant achievements, such as going to college, getting a corporate job, or making a high-figured salary.
This results in pressure that cannot be seen as relatable by family members, and often results in anxiety disorders, growing, unrelenting pressure, and crippling stress. To solve this, Wilson encourages Black girls to seek help outside of themselves and their friends, to ensure they are not taking on the weight of the world, simply because it was placed on their shoulders. Black women need someone to talk to, especially when it has been ingrained since birth that we should nurture and care for everyone but ourselves. By seeking a therapist, this narrative can change, and the idea of being a "strong Black woman" can come from the idea of learning to be vulnerable and asking for help.
Be Your Own Hero
It is heroic to take control of your own life. Being your own hero gives you confidence and reassurance to face obstacles directly, to follow your passion, and to define success how you see fit. It can be powerful and gratifying to become the best version of yourself and to allow yourself to be. In Dear Black Girls, Wilson teaches Black girls their final lesson, "If you can see them [your heroes], then you can be them." Many Black girls do not seek certain positions in life because they have never seen people who look like them in certain positions.
Nevertheless, Wilson explains the importance of having and seeking out representation, either in life or in media. Then, she encourages young girls to pursue that life they dream of, because anything is attainable with hard effort and--most importantly--love.
Check out A'ja Wilson and the 2024 Paris Women's Basketball Olympic team from July 26 through August 11.
xoNecole's I Read It So You Don't Have To is a recurring series of self-discovery that breaks down self-help books into a toolkit of takeaways and tips that are meant to assist you in finding the best life you can live. Take what works for you, and leave everything else where it is.
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A Goddard College graduate, who earned an MFA from Pratt Institute and was awarded an honorary doctorate from Marymount Manhattan College, Mahogany offers unapologetic realness with a side of grace and empowerment. "I started touring locally. I started creating chat books so that those poems will go in the hands of the people who were sitting in the rooms," she shared.
"And then I started facilitating poetry workshops, so I used my chat books as curriculum. And that, in turn, allowed me to further invest in my art and show the community and people who were hiring me that it wasn't just a one-off, that it's not just, you know, a fly by night—that I am invested in this art as much as I am invested in your community, in your children's learning, in our growth."
Mahogany has a special way of moving audiences, and her superpower sparks shifts in perspective, post-performance introspection, and strengthening of community bonds, especially among Black women. (One can undeniably recognize her gift for arousal of the spirit and mind merely from her listening to her insights from the other side of a Google Hangout call. I can only imagine the soul-stirring, top-tier sensory encounter when watching her perform in person.)
In this chat with xoNecole, Mahogany reflects on sustaining a creative career, the aftermath of writing a banned book, and using poetry for both healing, community-building, and activism.
Anthony Artis
xoNecole: What are three key things that have laid the foundation for a sustainable creative career for you?
Mahogany L Browne: What has helped me is that I'm willing to go in being an expert at knowing poetry and knowing the way in which art can change the landscape of our lives, not just as a poet, but also as a poetry facilitator. How you move through classes, those things are mastered, right? So when I go into another space that's maybe tech-heavy, I don't mind learning and being, you know, a student of the wonder of how we can make this magic, work together.
Two, you’ve got to know how to pivot. Sometimes we say, ‘Alright, this is what my life is going to be. I'm going to be a New York Times best-selling author. I'm going to, you know, have an album that's Grammy-nominated. And then, say you get dropped from your record label. That doesn't mean you can't make an album anymore. You can also still create an album that can be submitted to the Grammys. So, what does a pivot look like as an artist who doesn't have an institution behind them? Pivot being a student of the wonder.
Relationships also really help. How do I serve the community? And in turn, that tells me how the community can show up. For me, I have long-standing ties with a community that will outlast my one life. So, what does it mean to create space where these relationships can develop, can be nurtured, can be rooted, can be cultivated? Creating space—it happens through relationships.
xoN: With today’s economic challenges, what does your current creative process look like, and what are you working on?
MB: I’m always thinking five years ahead. I just reviewed the pages for two children’s books and recently released a YA novel. I’m drafting an adult fiction manuscript now.
Anything I create is founded with the root of poetry, but it can exist in captions. It can exist in commercials. It can exist as a musical. So that's where I’m at now.
xoN: You started performing "Black Girl Magic" in 2013, had an acclaimed performance of it via PBS and the work went on to viral success shortly after. Talk more about the inspiration. And what do you think about the continued relevance more than a decade later?
MB: I wrote it as a rally cry for the mothers who had been keeping themselves truly in harm's way by, you know, being a part of the community right after the death of their child or their loved one. They are usually mothers of victims of police brutality—and just seeing how they showed up in these community spaces, they are devout to the cause but obviously still grieving.
"I wanted this poem to be just a space of reclamation, of joy and of you, of your light, of your shine, of your brilliance, in any which way in which you fashion. Every room you enter is the room you deserve to be in. What does it mean to have a poem like that that exists?"
And the first time I did the poem, the Weeping that occurred, right? It was like this blood-letting of sorts. The next time I performed it, I'm moved to tears because I'm seeing how it's affecting other women who have just been waiting to hear, ‘You belong. You deserve. You are good. We see you. Thank you, despite everything that they said to make you regret being born in this beautiful brown, dark-skinned, light-skinned, but Black body.’
Black women are the backbone—period. Point blank. And so, that that poem became a necessity, not just to the fortitude of Black women in the community, but like you know, in service of healing the Black women.
xoN: One of your books was banned at a school in Boston, and it was later reinstated due to parental and activist support. What was that experience like?
MB: Well, I think it happened because they were racist. That's it. Point blank. The reversal of it was empowering, right? I realized, oh, I thought we just had to sit here and be on a banned book list. But no, parents are actually the leaders of this charge.
So to see that, the parents said, ‘Nah, we're not gonna let you take this book out of my baby’s school just because it's a Black kid on the front saying, ‘Woke’ and they're talking about being a global citizen. They're talking about accountability. They're talking about accessibility. They're talking about allyship, and you don't want them to have compassion or empathy or have even an understanding, right? So no, we rebuke that, and we want this book here anyway.’ To see that happen in that way. I was, like, reaffirmed. Absolutely.
xoN: You recently organized the Black Girl Magic Ball at the Lincoln Center in New York. Honorees included author and entrepreneur Rachel Cargle and National Black Theater CEO Sade Lythcott. What impact did it have and what expanded legacy do you hope to leave with your creative works?
MB: I was really interested in not celebrating just the book, but celebrating the community that made the book possible. And so I gave out five awards to women doing that thing, like, what does it mean to be a Black girl in this world?
I just thought it was gonna be an amazing time. Everybody's gonna dress up—we're gonna celebrate each other. And boom, I then realized that it responded to like a gaping hole. There was a missing thing for Black girls of all walks of life, all ages, right?
"It's very intergenerational. That was intentional to come together and celebrate just being us."
You have all these instances where just being you is either the butt of a joke or it's diminished and not worthy of a specific title in these larger institutions. So what does it mean to just to be loved up on and celebrated?
It felt like a self-care project at first. You know, for the first couple of years, folks were coming and they were getting that sisterhood. They were getting that tribe work that they were missing in their everyday lives.
I love the Black Girl Magic Ball because we got us. If I go out with a bang, they'll remember that Mahogany worked her a** off to make sure all the Black girls everywhere knew that she was the light. We are the blueprint.
For more information on Mahogany L. Browne, her work, and her future projects, visit her website or follow her on IG @mobrowne.
Featured image by Anthony Artis
“I think for me, an all-American girl, for some reason, brings me back to when I was younger, and just like playing at my grandma’s house and just being outside,” Kennedy told xoNecole ahead of her attendance at the 2025 BET Awards.
“I just feel like when I was younger, you know, you don’t have as many responsibilities. There’s not as much weighing you down, and so I kind of go back to that mindset. Like, even now, being 27, I’m trying to get back to that younger girl.”
The 2025 BET Awards, hosted by Kevin Hart, took place in Los Angeles at the Peacock Theater on Monday night (June 9). The star-studded event was filled with tons of surprises, including a trip down memory lane with a 106 & Park reunion, coupled with performances by artists that dominated the top spots during the music video countdown show’s reign from 2000 to 2014.
Kennedy, who received her first nomination alongside Tanner Adell, Brittney Spencer, Reyna Roberts, and Beyoncè in the BET Her category for “Blackbiird,” the reimagination of the original The Beatles of the same title (minus the extra i), invited xoNecole to get ready with her as she prepared for her first-ever BET Awards.
Beauty Rituals Inherited From Her Mother.
Rather than booking her makeup artist ahead of the big night, Kennedy decided to go on a budget and do the task herself, something that isn’t too out of her norm. She noted how she incorporates some of the things she witnessed her mother do while growing up in her routine.
“I remember being younger and seeing all the makeup laid out on my mom’s counter,” the “I Look Good In That Truck” singer recalled. “I don’t even think she knows this, but there were moments where I would like to go and steal her makeup. She would have Mac. I think it was some kind of foundation powder, and I would go in there and I would put it on, and I’m like I hope she doesn’t see.”
She added, “My mom is very natural with her makeup, so even though I’ve got these big lashes on, I always gravitate towards just neutral looks… I don’t do anything too fancy.”
Tiera Kennedy’s Holy Grail of Products.
Kennedy took it upon herself to take a class to ensure that she’s prepared for nights like these, where she’s the one responsible for bringing her glam look to life.
“We are independent,” she said, reminding us that she is no longer tied to a big machine when it comes to her work as an artist. “We ball on a budget. I have to do my makeup for award shows, events, all the things, and so my makeup artist that taught me how to do all of this, Hailee Clark, she put me on to Nars, the foundation. I don’t know exactly what the name of it is, but I love it.”
“I don’t know all the fancy technicals, but I know that it makes me just look kind of airbrushed, and so I love it. Then, I always use this Laura Mercier [setting] powder because I get real shiny, so I’ve gotta reapply that quite often.”
“We are independent. We ball on a budget. I have to do my makeup for award shows, events, all the things, and so my makeup artist that taught me how to do all of this, Hailee Clark, she put me on."
Her Decision To Wear Hanifa For The Big Night.
Intentionality is essential for Kennedy, which is why she jumped at the opportunity to support Black designer Anifa Mvuemba with a dress from her fashion brand, Hanifa.
“Takirra on my team helped me pick out the dress. I really like to represent in country music, and being in Nashville, I like to represent Black culture through the things that I wear, and I was excited to get to wear a Black brand to the BET Awards,” said Kennedy.
“She was telling me about this brand, Hanifa, and we were on FaceTime just scrolling through the website, and she was like this looks like you. This feels very rooted, like fits those natural tones, and so she bought the dress and was like, ‘This is what you’re wearing.’”
The look was a Raven Knit Dress in Eggplant/Dark Brown Mesh from Hanifa.
Tiera Kennedy in her younger years.
Courtesy
Kennedy also nurtured her inner child for the look, taking it back to her roots with one small detail in her hair that she had her mother carry out before she hopped on the flight to LA.
“I had this vision of wearing beads in my hair because when I was younger, my mom would always do that, and I didn’t love it, but now I’m like, it would be really beautiful to tie all of that together, and the Hanifa dress just fit perfectly.”
“Just even in the past couple of days, I’ve had to take a second, and just look back at all of the awesome things we’ve gotten to do,” said Kennedy when asked what baby Tiera is feeling in this moment.
“I had this vision of wearing beads in my hair, because when I was younger, my mom would always do that, and I didn’t love it, but now I’m like, it would be really beautiful to tie all of that together, and the Hanifa dress just fit perfectly.”
“I dreamed of having a record and having this team that was doing all of these things for me, and now, being an independent artist, and being in control of my career, I’ve gotten to build an awesome team behind me that helps me get to where I am. It’s been a lot of hard work, and I think when I was younger, I would have never imagined that I could do all of these things, and so, yeah, to be here, I don’t even think I would believe it.”
Although “Blackbiird” didn’t win in the BET Her category during Monday night’s show, Kennedy’s future is brighter than ever, which she attests to her faith playing a huge role in guiding her next steps as she continues to rise to stardom.
“Thinking about the next thing, I think that can be really daunting when you’re an independent artist. It’s like you have to be thinking of what’s coming next, to prepare for that, but I think the way that I like to walk through life in general is letting the Lord lead,” Kennedy said.
“I know that a lot of time when I have a vision of what I want things to look like in my head, He always exceed my expectations. So, I think the plan is to continue to release music, and continue to show up as my authentic self. Getting to have these moments like the BET Awards is so awesome, but also, at the same time, that’s not what I do this for. I do it for the humans that are listening to my music, that are [having] fun and healing through my music, so I hope that I can just continue to do that.”
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