“Black Womanhood Is…”: A Spoken Word
Written by Nicheyta Raino
Black womanhood is poetic like Maya Angelou
And groundbreaking like Bessie Coleman.
It is brave like Daisy Bates
And breathtaking like Whitney Houston.
Black womanhood is strong like my Gran, Margaret McFee.
And like my mama, Donna Fay,
it perseveres, it’s steadfast and loving.
They taught me to see my black as beautiful, brilliant, valuable and worthy, Before society could label it dangerous or something I should be ashamed of.
The women who came before me were trailblazers.
Defying historical precedents and crushing confining ideologies of the day,
They embraced the magnificence of their blackness unapologetically.
Because they were resolute, with unwavering faith
I am the woman I am today.
I have learned to put no limits on my existence,
From the queens in the limelight and the ones who grace our books of history.
Women like Lena Horne, Althea Gibson, Ida B Wells and Coretta Scott King.
They were seen, their stories were penned, not because they stood idly,
But because they chose to speak.
They looked beyond reaching the stars and simply shattering glass ceilings.
No, their goal was a higher one.
It would draw a line in the sand of history.
Their goal was freedom.
They pushed back against the heavy hand of injustice that had always been the status quo.
They were resilient and persisted in their efforts with great tenacity.
No longer inclined to be disenfranchised,
They fought for equality.
Because of the zeal of these legendaries
I now stand on the precipice of endless possibilities.
From teachers, artists, and leaders in the Motherland,
To forced slaves, sharecroppers, and maids in the “land of the free,”
Though they may not grace stages or have their lives documented on pages
Every woman in my lineage is remarkable to me.
They chose hope in the face of oppression; they chose joy in adversity.
I am the harvest of the prayers they sowed in tears.
What was once an inconceivable fantasy in their lifetime
Is now a living reality in me.
They taught me to see my black as beautiful, brilliant, valuable and worthy,
Before society could label it dangerous or something I should be ashamed of.
They taught me that the black experience may be a struggle at times
But this life will always be worth fighting for and my presence has purpose.
From them I’ve learned the balance of remaining strong in times of trial
and remaining soft in a world that seeks to callous all that is good.
I’ve learned how to pray and set my sights on the hills where my help comes from
The Maker of heaven and earth, the Originator of black womanhood.
See the reason for their unyielding faith,
The very source of their endurance and unprecedented victories
Can be summed up in the lyrics of a gospel song my Gran used to sing,
“If it had not been for the Lord on my side, where would I be, where would I be?”
From the kinky strands atop my head, to my fingertips’ intricacies,
I was created wonderfully and marvelously. Every detail of me is His design.
He gave me the tone of my voice, the joy of my laugh and even my quirky personality.
He calls me chosen, peculiar and holy. I am His and He is mine.
His abundant life courses through me, His love is in every fiber of my being.
My soul carries the DNA of the Author of life, the Maker of endless galaxies.
Every beautiful, melanated part of me is best said in the words of Maya Angelou
Every part of me is “Trailing wisps of His glory.”
Of all the ways I’ve defined black womanhood, this one reigns supreme.
It is the summation of the legacies I carry
And more significant than the stories I treasure.
Black womanhood is
being an image bearer of
the
Creator
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