Theologian Dr. Chanequa Walker-Barnes describes the pressure placed on Black women to be strong, available to others, and without needs of their own. She refers to this cultural expectation as an archetype of “StrongBlackWoman”:
I learned to be a StrongBlackWoman early in life. I am the eldest child of a single mother, with a brother eight years my junior. With my mother working long, hard hours to support us (often twelve-hour stints on the third shift), I had to step in to help take care of the family…. By fourteen, my afterschool routine consisted of taking the city bus to pick up my brother from daycare, helping him with his homework (and doing my own), supervising while he played outside, cooking dinner, cleaning the kitchen, and getting him bathed and in bed….
Over the years my caretaking tendencies expanded to include everyone around me—family, friends, co-workers. It was a natural (and expected) progression. I was constantly concerned with the needs of others, always trying to be helpful…. Over-extending myself became my modus operandi. I was living in a state of serious self-care neglect. Of course, I did not call it neglect. I called it being responsible. In fact, I prided myself on being the most responsible person I knew. And my high sense of responsibility was rewarded often by others who were pleased with me and the things that I did for them….
In my worldview, overactivity was normative. It was what Black women did. Black women, after all, were strong. Proving myself capable of taking care of everything and everyone in my sphere of existence was, I thought, a rite of passage into full Black womanhood.
Walker-Barnes imagines sharing her “addiction” to overextension and strength in a recovery group:
If this were a twelve-step meeting for StrongBlackWomen, I would begin by saying, “Hi, my name is Chanequa and I’m a StrongBlackWoman. I have been in recovery for over a decade now. But at most, I’ve probably only accrued a few weeks of being clean at once. I relapse constantly, maybe even daily. I don’t know if I’ll ever break free of this thing. But I’m here. And just for today, I will make at least one decision in favor of my physical, spiritual, emotional, and relational health. Just for today, I will try to let go of my need for control, to become aware of when I need help, and to ask for help when I need it. Just for today, I give myself permission to cry when I’m sad, to scream when I’m frustrated, to smile and laugh when I’m happy, and to dance like I’ve got wings when the Spirit moves me. Just for today, I will reject the mandate to be a StrongBlackWoman. Just for today, I will simply be.”
Reference:
Chanequa Walker-Barnes, Too Heavy a Yoke: Black Women and the Burden of Strength (Cascade Books, 2014), 1–2, 185–186.
Image credit and inspiration: Nadya Spetnitskaya, Untitled (detail), 2018, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. Making bread requires the integration of dry and liquid ingredients that must be kneaded and combined. They move from messiness to a cohesive form, just like any kind of integration process.
Story from Our Community:
I’m a practicing Catholic living in Brazil. I found the work of Father Richard and the CAC when I went through a dark night. I was struck by the idea of true and false self and I began to understand that God and spiritual practice can help to crack open my false self. I am immensely grateful for the tools, podcasts, meditations, and the welcoming community that I found in CAC. As part of my practice, I say the Welcoming Prayer every day when I wake up. It helps prepare my heart for the day and relaxes my desire to fix and control what happens around me.
—Junia C.
