like march comes after February, my womyness comes after my blackness.
it’s womyns history month, I would be indolant if I didn’t acknowledge, Mother Earth, mothers, and womyn.
I was raised in a very a matriarchal family and community. my grandmother is the backbone to our family. at every event and function it is my grandmother that invites everyone to her house, to eat her food and enjoy her company.
there would be no celebration if my grandmother, mother, or the womyn were not there.
man can not survive without us, let’s be honest.
America would not be America without the black womyn let’s be honest.
in this time of hidden figures, Beyoncé snubbed Grammy’s and #sayhername…womyn’s history month seemed very whitewashed.
I learned about Eleanor Roosevelt, Jackie Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe before I learned about Kathleen Cleave, Angela Davis and Mae Jemison. It was always during black history month that I learned abt the impact that blk womyn made on society but during March it was truly lessons abt white womyn.
after graduating college, and learning about womanism and intersectionality I had to conduct my own research and reclaim my black womyness. the next few posts will be abt blk womynhood and my journey with it. moreover, I had to make my own feminism (turned womanism now) include trans womyn and LGBTQIA.
I am a bisexual blk womyn.
I am a blk womyn phenomenally, phenonmenal blk womyn that’s me.
Interesting. Kind of in the same vein, I learned most of what I know about Black history after college; when I was curious enough to look for it to consume it, and mature enough to digest it.