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These 4 White Women Discuss Racism. And You're Going To Want To Read What They Have To Say.
Like so many of us, I've experienced my fair share of racism as a black woman in America. Growing up in the south, it was a normal day to pass hundreds of Confederate flags and a number of white supremacist's statues on my way to school (blatant racism). And in Chicago, it's completely normal to drive past a corrupt police department on an ignored and under-resourced south side, and pull up to a multi-billion dollar invested, highly-protected and resourced downtown/northside, on the way to work (systemic racism).
My first actual experience with racism, a white lady called my sister a “nigger" at a swimming pool for accidentally splashing her son. We told our mother what happened, and her natural mother bear mode instantly activated, as she jumped up to confront the lady. Instead, her husband jumped in my mother's face and said these words that still sting to this day: “Get the fck out of here or we're going to be hanging some heads tonight." I was 6.
My mother did something I have never seen her do before, she backed down. I remember being confused. My mother never backs down.
Far too many of us have the same experiences, but outside of anger, we're never sure where to start to end it. We've made some progress, but how can we continue making waves within the uprising that is happening today?
One way: talk about it. Mostly importantly, talk about it with white people (and by that I mean actually have the conversation and not some Facebook debate).
So, we took the time to ask a group of white women (from varying ages and backgrounds) their thoughts on the current state of the country. We also asked them to discuss the racism that they've witnessed in the past, and what they plan to do to help fix it. Each woman respectfully and honestly shared their very real experiences with us, which may be triggering to some. But again, it's real. So, let's have this very real conversation together.
Because as the great queen muva, Rihanna, says: "This is their problem too...so pull up."
(some responses may be cut or edited for clarity, but never to change their narrative).
De'Shae | 34 | Little Rock, AR
Photo Courtesy of De'Shae Bumgardner
The first time that I can remember even realizing that race existed was when I was about four years old. One of my parents told me that they would disown me if I were to ever date a "n***er". I was extremely confused because, sadly, that was also the name of my pet cat. I thought, Why in the world would they think I would want to date a cat?!
When they told me that the word stood for black people, I was even more confused...
My Thoughts On The Current State Of The Country
I have a lot of mixed emotions about the current state of the country. On one hand, I feel extremely proud of the people who are standing up against racial injustice, but on the other, I hate that in 2020, racial injustice is still happening. And it doesn't help that we have a president whose words and actions fuel white supremacy, which is a direct threat to my son's life and the lives of all people of color. His fuel has also ignited the racism within so many friends and family members, who I've had to cut ties with. Before the Trump presidency, my son had never been the subject of direct racism. Since then, I have gotten several racist death threats from supposed strangers.
I try to be optimistic about the future and I hope it will get better with time, but I also have my doubts and I wonder if I want to wait around to see if it ever happens.
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
My biggest inspiration is my son. Before having him, I thought I was doing enough by just loving black people and hating the N-word. After having him, something ignited inside of me that has made it one of my life goals to do everything in my power to help make this country a safer and more equal place for him and all black people.
I wish I could be with my son on the battle grounds at all times, but I can only help equip him with the tools to win. Tools I had to gain first; tools I have never, as a white person, been required to use before.
One of these tools is my voice and I use it by speaking out as much as possible.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
I was in second grade when my best friend joined my mom and I to go see a movie. The place was packed, so my friend who is black sat in my mom's lap. Several white people behind us voiced their opinion about how disgusting they thought it was to let a black person sit in her lap. They called her a "n***er". She didn't shed a tear, but I did. I had never witnessed that type of situation. When we got back home and discussed it further, and she basically told me that she had been called that name so much, that she was numb to it.
She was nine years old and already had a racial journey. From there on out, I realized how incredibly brave black people are forced to be.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
I support black people by always speaking out. I try to listen and learn from those in my life. I use my white privileges to intervene when my black friends are mistreated. I intentionally shop with black businesses and donate to various causes that help the black community.
I have also tried my best to support my black son. When I realized that his public school was only teaching him a watered-down version of black history for one month a year, I pulled him from school and began homeschooling him. I currently work full-time, and have been homeschooling my son for the past two years. Instead of once a year, he now learns about black history and black excellence almost daily.
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
I honestly feel extremely understood and accepted by all of the black women that I have encountered. If anything, I would hope they understand that I am on their side, I see them, I hear them, I highly respect them, and I strive to learn more about how I can help them.
Bridging The Gap
I think that both sides having an open and honest dialogue helps tremendously. I learned so much from just comparing how police have treated me versus how my friends of color have been treated in the same situations. I have gone to a gas station before and the clerk told me that my $50 bill was counterfeit (exactly the same as George Floyd). But I was THANKED for my "help." I was not reprimanded in any way.
So, I think the biggest thing that white people can do is listen to learn, instead of listening to respond. Also, learning history that was not white-washed opened my eyes about a lot of things that I had previously misunderstood.
Kim | 33 | Metairie, LA
As a child, I was used to being one of the only white girls around.
I noticed that when I went into the stores with my friends, that I wasn't followed around the same way they were. That's what made me realize that me being white made people around me feel a different way towards me...
My Thoughts On The Current State Of The Country
I'm excited/scared about the current state of this country. I'm excited to see that people have become fed up with the current system of oppression. I wish there was a better way to convey our disgust with the current system, but since the powers that be have yet to listen to peaceful protests, this is where we are.
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
I want to say that I've always been receptive to my black friends' issues. I certainly know that I get extremely upset when they are upset but I try to refrain and just listen.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
I grew up in South Georgia where I was raised southern baptist. I would go to my black friends' church and would always feel welcome. When I brought my black friends to my mama's church, the energy was not comparable in the least. I KNEW something was off.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
I try to closely observe and read up on issues, rather than ask my friends to educate me because why should I ask them take on more emotional labor than they need to?
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
There's not really much that I expect for black women to understand about me. It's not their job. I get frustrated when white people expect black people to explain to them their fucking humanity because IT'S NOT THEIR JOB! And if white people expect them do it, pay them for the emotional labor.
I guess I'm saying that I want black women to know that they don't owe me anything and I will always be here to listen. I've learned that I'm way better at getting my point across in person, so I try to not explain anything on social media. I tend to be curt and sarcastic when speaking with an "all lives matter" audience, and that doesn't help anyone.
Bridging The Gap
I don't think that black people really need to do much to bridge the gap. This is a responsibility that solely rests on our souls. I mean, historically, it was white people who started this mess, so why is it so hard for them to put in the emotional labor and see things in a different light (as you can see I am big on "emotional labor").
Listen, I know that as a white woman that I have privileges. And I will try my best to exercise those privileges in a way that protects my black friends and amplifies their voices. Always.
Antonia | 57 | Prince George’s County, Maryland
I think I was four or five years old, I lived in an area where schools were integrated—and back in my day, this was a big deal. I was paired with a black girl to practice reading, and my mother explained to me that I was probably going to be a white N-word (she said the word, obviously). I didn't understand what that meant, but I knew it was bad...
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
I have a big mouth sometimes, which is great for helping me show my ass on this subject. But ultimately, I'm inspired by the life of Kenyan Nobel [Peace Prize recipient] Laureate Wangari Maathai, who helped bring about political change and environmental restoration by having thousands of small conversations with women. She talked a lot about taking small steps and doing little actions—hers was planting trees.
I try to stay in the background and put black women forward to speak, and I think a lot about how Maathai did her work over 30 years and ended up changing so much for her country.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
A couple years ago, I was working with a group of black teenagers in a summer program, and we were discussing how when doing sustainability outreach, we needed to consider the cultural context of our audience. I made recommendations for best practices but a colleague of mine interrupted to say she didn't feel that black customers being accused of shoplifting was necessarily a “race thing" because similar things happened to her elderly mother.
But one of the young girls in the program was incredible. She talked about how white women could dress up or down and shift how people see us, but that she could never ever take off her skin, so being black was right at the foreground of how people perceived her every time she walked into a business. She was fabulous, but angry. Determined and focused, and she spoke very clearly about how race and the history of violence against black people and communities creates burdens for her that white people can avoid if they want to. It was hard for my skeptical colleague to take in at the moment, but I think it has stayed with her as it has with me and it let me know that even skeptical people are open to letting in the pain of really seeing how racism affects black people.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
This is a new realization over the last few weeks: I've always been the kind of person who has casual conversations with, oh, the guys in line at Home Depot or wherever, and when there is huge public grief and anger about yet another death in police custody, yet another racist policy enacted whatever, I mention it. I sympathize with them and wish that we could do better, and I listen to them talking about their sadness and anger. I don't know if it helps, but I've had some conversations that left me feeling like perhaps we could someday become one people, a unified community. Of course, then I go right back out into the world, so it's an ongoing thing.
It's not much, and I'm always worried that I'm doing it for cookies, so I don't usually talk about it elsewhere. But discussion is one of the things I can do with black and white friends, or colleagues, or even with strangers at Home Depot. Hopefully it helps to carry some of the weight and responsibility for all the events that create traumatic stress for black people in America.
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
I think black women have no obligation to try to understand me whatsoever, because the weight of history is just crushing. I would hope that my black friends understand that that that weight is on me to fix, especially with the ways in which my mother taught me about race, and to see, in a non-cookie-giving way, how hard I have worked to bear those lessons without passing them on to my children or reenacting them in my daily life. I also think that the legacy of slavery and racist violence has left scars on white Americans, and that most white people don't see how that legacy festers and holds them back. I guess I wish black women could understand that, but frankly it's irrational and cruel to expect black women dealing with our current climate of racism to any work into understanding me, or white people generally, so that'll have to wait.
Bridging The Gap
Keep talking. Keep doing the little actions that make your community a bit better, and that improves the lives of children and families. Keep recognizing that white women are often not aware of how race plays into their actions, and finding time for small conversations (including angry ones) that help us get that. And all women need to take care of themselves. The womanist writer, bell hooks, has a great book – Sisters of the Yam – that is all about self-care and has been really helpful for me. We need to take care of ourselves first to be healthy enough to fight on.
Jessica | 27 | Chicago, IL
Photo courtesy of @lynx.imagery
Hindsight is 20/20 when you're looking back on 20 years and your mindset has changed so many times. I remember going to a black classmate's house for a group project around third grade. For whatever reason, it confused me that her family lived in a townhome. It was very odd to me as a child, since every other friend's house I'd been to was an independently-standing house. I don't know if I understood race or saw her race and correlated the difference in homes to her skin color, but somehow I connected those dots. I say this from a tiny Chicago apartment now, too.
But this was one of my first realizations that people can be different...
My Thoughts On The Current State Of The Country
Our country in in shambles right now. Never in our history have we been in the midst of a pandemic when a revolution has started and I know a ton of people are confused about what's going on. Hell, our government doesn't even know what's happening. The Mayor of Chicago has been handling everything fairly professionally though and I feel like she's doing a good job at balancing our quarantine phases with the protests and looting that have been happening this past week.
My Inspirations To Denounce Racism
I'm usually a quiet observer, as my friends can clearly testify. I usually prefer to listen instead of debate with someone. But I was also a part of the Occupy movement back in 2011/2012 and it gave me a voice and reminded me that there is power in numbers, and the numbers are angry this time around. The majority of my activism this time, has been from home, however. I'm so proud of the peaceful protests my city has organized, but there's so much work that can be done on our computers and phones. Petitions need to be signed, emails need to be sent to our representatives, and time and money need to be donated to those on the front line of this movement.
An Experience Witnessing Black Women's Racial Journeys
My best friend is black, and she grew up in Topeka, KS, home of the infamous Westboro Baptist Church. Topeka is a predominantly white city, with only about 10% of the population being black. I know things are much different in Kansas from the suburbs of Chicago where I was raised and every time she tells me about something drastic that happened while she was growing up, it shocks me because I was so sheltered in my hometown.
I currently live in a predominantly Hispanic neighborhood and she lives about 10 minutes south in an Asian/Lithuanian neighborhood. This week in Chicago we've had looters coming in from out of town, so the gangs in my neighborhood were actually protecting the businesses and homes to prevent damage. Of course the neighbors quickly became a protective barrier against the gangs to the black people who live in the community when I found out that the gangs were attacking people of color for just trying to return to their homes. These are our neighbors and they were being attacked for their skin color by another minority. When I mentioned this to my best friend, she casually said, "Mexicans hate blacks and they tried to burn down my house when I was little."
Clearly, I was shocked at her casually bringing this up and it made me realize that this country isn't just segregated by hatred between white and black, but the hatred can sometimes come from other minorities too.
Supporting Black People In My Daily Life
I don't think I've ever treated any black person in my life differently (except for my best friend whom I smother with love and guinea pig pictures) and I think treating everyone with the same amount of respect and compassion and sense of human decency is a great way to support black people in our lives. When people around us see these open displays of companionship and camaraderie (especially working in the restaurant industry where we are literally united as a family), I hope it makes them feel less threatened by the differences between and around us.
What I Wish Black People Knew About Me
I feel like I'm not even in a position to preach about myself right now, so I'll keep this short: I grew up (unknowingly back then) surrounded by white privilege and attending mostly white schools. But now, black women, I empathize with you and your stories. Please tell them to me. I want to hear them. I am still a woman and I know we've all been treated differently just because of that. But I'm on your side and I stand with you.
Bridging The Gap
I recently read an article by Cynthia Schmidt, a UCF columnist, about bridging the gap. She says "it's virtually inconceivable for white folks to have police called on them for merely existing, and because white people are able to surround themselves in white bubbles, it's like we white people are reading the book of racial history and racial current events, while our black countrymen are watching the film, or harder yet, starring in the film."
So in order for white people to put the "book" down and participate in the history that's acting out in front of us, we need to do research. Our school system has done nothing for our education on Black America.
There are so many books and films and articles to read and watch, and once we have a better grasp on what happened outside of our history textbooks, we can further integrate ourselves into predominantly black communities, but as guests. We can visit their churches and support their restaurants and other businesses. I also agree with Cynthia when she says, "Black folks do not bear the burden of creating the bridge. They cannot, as it is already hard enough to be black in America without having to educate white folks along the way. Merely existing as a black person here is enough work."
Featured image by Shutterstock
Charmin Michelle is a southern native and creative spirit who works as a content marketer and events manager in Chicago. She enjoys traveling, #SummertimeChi, and the journey of mastering womanhood. Connect with her on Instagram @charminmichelle.
This article is sponsored by Hulu.
UnPrisonedhas returned for its highly anticipated second season, delving deeper into the complex dynamics of the Alexander family.
The series premiere comes a year after its debut season garnered rave reviews from fans and critics and earned record-breaking ratings for Hulu's Onyx Collective brand. UnPrisoned's success can be attributed to its raw, relatable themes and comedic appeal.
Inspired by creator Tracy McMillan's life, the show follows Paige (Kerry Washington), a therapist and single mother whose life takes an unexpected turn when her father, Edwin (Delroy Lindo) --who was released from prison-- moves in with her and her teenage son, Finn (Faly Rakotohavana).
Throughout UnPrisoned's first season, viewers witnessed how Edwin's incarceration deeply affected Paige's life and relationships. In the series, Paige unpacks her trauma through interactions with her inner child and her online followers. Meanwhile, Edwin is overcoming specific struggles with his own past that led to his life of crime, including a dysfunctional upbringing and his mother's arrest. As the Alexanders attempt to reconcile, new challenges arise.
This new season promises to further explore their unconventional family dynamic. Here are several compelling reasons why season two of UnPrisoned should be on everyone's watchlist.
The Alexander Family Life Is Still In Shambles
UnPrisoned's second season resumes where the series left off, with Paige grappling with the fallout from her troubled therapy practice and Edwin navigating life independently after moving out. Meanwhile, Finn faces his own challenges. The teenager is battling anxiety and seeking information about his father—a topic Paige avoids discussing.
The Alexander Family Are Attending Therapy To Resolve Their Underlying Issues
Amid the chaos in their lives, the Alexander family decides to mend their bond by confronting their past traumas. They seek professional help and attend therapy sessions with a “family radical healing coach,” played by John Stamos, a new cast member. This collective effort aims to unravel the complexities of their shared history and strengthen their relationships.
The process of unraveling each character's internal conflicts and their potential impact on future relationships may clash with Paige's textbook therapy approach. While Paige is used to being in the therapist's seat in both career and family, this forces her into the unfamiliar role of a patient during therapy sessions. This shift would compel her to look in the mirror and try a radically different approach.
The Alexander Family Learned A Big Lesson During A Therapy Session
In therapy, the Alexanders are tasked with addressing their individual traumas to salvage their remaining relationships. One of the family therapist’s eccentric suggestions was an exercise involving a family wrestling match. During this session, Paige faces tough questions about her refusal to share information about Finn's father.
While it's unclear whether this scene is reality or fantasy, the image of the family duking it out in the ring certainly makes for hilarious yet compelling television.
Paige Tries Dating Again Following Failed Relationships
Amid her life's chaos, Paige decides to step back into the dating field. However, her many attempts have left her with mixed results. The dating apps have turned out to be a fail, and an outing with her ex Mal (Marque Richardson), who is also her father's parole officer, doesn’t go quite as expected after he brings an unexpected guest – his new girlfriend.
The situation takes an awkward turn when Mal's new partner learns why the former couple split, partly due to Paige's self-sabotage.
UnPrisoned Is A Perfect Balance Of Comedy And Drama
As a dramedy, UnPrisoned takes a comedic approach to its heavy subjects. The show takes us on a ride with Paige's dating misadventures and navigating a friendship with her ex.
Other lighthearted moments include Edwin's attempts at CPR based on online videos and, of course, the antics of the Alexander family's unconventional new healing coach.
The second season of UnPrisoned is now available on Hulu.
UnPrisoned | Season 2 Trailer | Hulu
Feature image courtesy
'Dear Black Girls': How A'ja Wilson Is Helping Black Girls Heal & Bloom With Confidence
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 BlackGirls, 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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