

As Black people – across genders, sexualities, shades, ages, and geography – we share a common fate of living through and trying to survive global white supremacy. But what happens when certain groups of Black people have more power over others? What happens when we, as Black women, deal with the intersection of oppressions – white supremacy and patriarchy?
For generations, Black women have been fighting, organizing, and laying our bodies on the line to protect our brothers and ourselves from white supremacy. Under the system of patriarchy, which gives cis men power and preference over women and non-binary people, what happens to Black women, if Black men aren’t also our allies fighting against the patriarchy that shrinks and kills us?
Two of the greatest American thinkers and writers in history, Nikki Giovanni and James Baldwin, talked to each other at length about what Black men and Black women owe each other in a 1971 episode of the TV show Soul.
Giovanni speaks to Baldwin of the ways that Black men have taken out their frustrations over white supremacy onto the Black women who love them. “I’ve caught the frowns and the anger,” Giovanni says. “You come home and I catch hell. Because I love you, I get [the] least of you. I get the very minimum. And I’m saying fake it with me. Is that too much of the Black woman to ask of the Black man?”
In 2022, as we mark the deadliest year on record for Black trans women; at a time when one in four Black women experience domestic violence, one in four Black girls will be sexually abused before the age of 18, and one in five Black women are survivors of rape, we’re long overdue for another conversation about protecting Black women and what we owe each other.
“[Black women have] been made to feel not just that it’s our duty to support Black men but that being loved by Black men is the ultimate validation,” prolific writer and culture critic Jamilah Lemieux shares on “Obligation,” the latest podcast episode of Truth Be Told with Tonya Mosley. “I want for Black men to love and care for Black women the way that we love and care for them,” she says. “It’s more than a gut feeling that this love is not reciprocal.”
The Baldwin to her Giovanni on the podcast is the prophetic writer and professor, Kiese Laymon.
“When there is no duty [for Black men] to collectively defend Black women unless it appears that the person doing the harming of Black women is white men…I know then we’re in a place where asymmetry is a kind way of saying it,” Laymon says in response.
In the episode, Lemieux and Laymon break down Lemieux’s mega-viral Vanity Fair article, “Dave Chappelle and the Black Ass Lie That Keeps Us Down.” Using Chappelle’s career of misogyny, homophobia, and transphobia as an example, Lemieux writes in an early contender for best essay of 2022, “Black America’s version of “the big lie”—“the Black ass lie”—is that Black men have it worse than any other group of Black people.” It’s this belief, she explains, that can prevent Black men from fully understanding the struggles of Black women and even their own complicity in those struggles, and therefore, the obligation to help lift the burden.
“The deeper question for me,” Laymon says, “as a Black man who has reaped the benefits sometimes in asymmetrical relationships where Black women have loved me far deeper, and far more rigorously than I have loved them, is once you know that, as a Black man, do you have an obligation to not engage in romantic relationships with Black women until you as an individual feel the same equal duty? And unless you’re willing to go out there and do the work that Black women have done to protect us, regardless of who’s coming at us?”
Listen to the whole podcast below:
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Adrian Marcel On Purpose, Sacrifice, And The 'Signs Of Life'
In this week's episode of xoMAN, host Kiara Walker talked with R&B artist Adrian Marcel, who opened up, full of heart and authenticity, about his personal evolution. He discussed his days transitioning from a young Bay Area singer on the come-up to becoming a grounded husband and father of four.
With honesty and introspection, Marcel reflected on how life, love, and loss have shaped the man he is today.
On ‘Life’s Subtle Signals’
Much of the conversation centered around purpose, sacrifice, and listening to life’s subtle signals. “I think that you really have to pay attention to the signs of life,” Marcel said. “Because as much as we need to make money, we are not necessarily on this Earth for that sole purpose, you know what I mean?” While he acknowledged his ambitions, adding, “that is not me saying at all I’m not trying to ball out,” he emphasized that fulfillment goes deeper.
“We are here to be happy. We are here [to] fulfill a purpose that we are put on here for.”
On Passion vs. Survival
Adrian spoke candidly about the tension between passion and survival, describing how hardship can sometimes point us away from misaligned paths. “If you find it’s constantly hurting you… that’s telling you something. That’s telling you that you’re going outside of your purpose.”
Marcel’s path hasn’t been without detours. A promising athlete in his youth, he recalled, “Early on in my career, I was still doing sports… I was good… I had a scholarship.” An injury changed everything. “My femur broke. Hence why I always say, you know, I’m gonna keep you hip like a femur.” After the injury, he pivoted to explore other careers, including teaching and corporate jobs.
“It just did not get me—even with any success that happened in anything—those times, back then, I was so unhappy. And you know, to a different degree. Like not just like, ‘I really want to be a singer so that’s why I’m unhappy.’ Nah, it was like, it was not fulfilling me in any form or fashion.”
On Connection Between Pursuing Music & Fatherhood
He recalled performing old-school songs at age 12 to impress girls, then his father challenged him: “You can lie to these girls all you want, but you're really just lying to yourself. You ain't growing.” That push led him to the piano—and eventually, to his truth. “Music is my love,” Marcel affirmed. “I wouldn’t be a happy husband if I was here trying to do anything else just to appease her [his wife].”
Want more real talk from xoMAN? Catch the full audio episodes every Tuesday on Spotify and Apple Podcasts, and don’t miss the full video drops every Wednesday on YouTube. Hit follow, subscribe, and stay tapped in.
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You Don’t Have To Choose: How Black Women Can Care For Others Without Self-Sacrifice
One of the primary instructions we receive before a flight takes off is to prioritize putting on your life vest first if there’s an emergency, even before assisting others. It’s funny how this rule rarely translates to the daily routine of women.
As women we are taught, directly and indirectly, to put others first. Whether it’s our romantic partners, kids, parents, friends, or even our jobs. Mental health survivor and founder of Sista Afya Community Care, Camesha Jones-Brandon is challenging that narrative by using her platform to advocate for Black women and their right to self-care.
Camesha created the organization after her struggles with mental health and the lack of community she experienced. The Chicago native explains how she created Sista Afya to be rooted in “culturally grounded care.”
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“So at my organization, Sista Afya Community Care, we focus on providing mental health care through a cultural and gender lens,” she tells xoNecole. “So when we think about the term intersectionality, coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw, we think about the multiple identities that lead to certain experiences and outcomes as it relates to Black women.
“So in the context of culturally grounded care, being aware of the cultural history, the cultural values, and then also the current issues that impact mental health outcomes.”
Words like “strong” and “independent” have long been associated with Black women for some time and many of us have begun to embrace the soft life and are using rest as a form of resistance. However, some of us still struggle with putting ourselves first and overall shedding the tainted image of the “strong, Black woman” that had been forced on us.
Camesha shares that while there’s more and more communities being created around empowerment and shared interests like running, she still questions, “are Black women really comfortable with being vulnerable about sharing their experiences?”
Being vulnerable with ourselves and others play an important role in healing the instinctive nature of always being “on” for everyone. “I'm currently facilitating a group on high functioning depression, and yesterday, we talked about how when Black women may be struggling or have shared their concerns with other people. They may be minimized, or they're told to just be strong, or it's not so bad, or I went through something worse back in Jim Crow era, so you should be thankful,” she explains.
“So I think there's a challenge with Black women being able to be honest, to be vulnerable and to receive the support that they need in the same capacity as how much they give support to other people. So that is probably a very common theme. I think we've made a lot of progress when we talk about the superwoman syndrome, the mammy stereotype, the working hard stereotype, the nurturing stereotype. I think we're beginning to unpack those things, but I still see that we have definitely a long way to go in that area.”
I think there's a challenge with Black women being able to be honest, to be vulnerable and to receive the support that they need in the same capacity as how much they give support to other people.
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While we’re unpacking those things, we know that we’re still women at the end of the day. So as we continue to serve in various roles like mothers, daughters, sisters, and caretakers, we have to make caring for ourselves a priority. Camesha reveals four ways we can still care for others without abandoning ourselves.
Trust
First things first, trust. Camesha explains, “Some of the burdens that Black women have can be linked to not feeling like you can trust people to carry the load with you.
“It's hard because people experience trauma or being let down or different experiences, but one of the things that I found personally is the more that I'm able to practice trust, the more I'm able to get my needs met. Then, to also show up as my best to care for other Black women.”
Know Your Limitations
Another thing Camesha highlighted is Black women knowing their limitations. “The other thing that I would like to bring up in terms of a way to care for yourself is to really know your limitations, or know how much you can give and what you need to receive,” she says.
“So often, what I see with Black women is giving, giving, giving, giving, giving to the point that you're not feeling well, and then not receiving what you need in return to be able to feel well and whole individually. So I really think it's important to know your limitations and know your capacity and to identify what it is that you need to be well.”
Don’t Take On A Lot Of Responsibilities
Next on the list is not taking on so many responsibilities, sharing herself as an example. “The other thing is taking on too much responsibility, especially in a time of vulnerability.
“One thing that I personally struggled with was being so passionate about community mental health for Black women, and saying yes to everything and taking on so much responsibility,” she reveals. “That affected me to do well in serving Black women and then also impacting my own well being.”
Practice Self-Care
Lastly, she notes the importance of practicing self-care. “The last thing is really practicing regular self care, regular community care, so that it's embedded into your daily life. So for me, having prepared meals, going to the gym, getting eight hours of sleep, spending time with friends and family, all of those things are part of my self care that keep me at my best,” she explains.
“Then community care, leaning into social networks or social groups, or spending time with other interests or hobbies. That's a part of my community care that keeps me going, so that I can take care of my needs, but also to be able to show up best in care for others.”
Find out more about Camesha and Sista Afya Community Care at communitycare.sistaafya.com.
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