Unnecessary Resilience

Unnecessary Resilience

Resilience. It’s a word often used to describe Black women, and for good reason. We’ve weathered storms, put cracks in ceilings, and carried communities on our backs—all while navigating a world that too often seeks to undermine our very existence. But here’s the truth we need to confront: Resilience shouldn’t be a necessity.

On April 16, 2024, I hosted Navigate the Mission, a space dedicated to exploring the intersections of faith, leadership, and community. During one of our panels, the brilliant Kelly English, who served as the moderator, took the liberty to rename our discussion “UNnecessary Resilience”. She asked a powerful question that struck a chord with everyone in the room: “Why should Black women have to be resilient?” Because the truth is we are tired.?

Why must Black women always be the ones to pick up the pieces, carry the weight, to be the saviors of social and community catastrophe? Why is it that when the world faces its most dire challenges, it turns to Black women, expecting us to stand strong, to fix it, to lead? Because we always do.?

Let’s be real: resilience is exhausting. And we are exhausted. Yet, it’s a trait that Black women are expected to embody at all times. We’re celebrated for our strength, but rarely is there a conversation about the toll it takes on our minds, bodies, and spirits. We’re told to be strong, to keep going, to hold it all together—because if we don’t, who will??

The “Strong Black Woman” trope has deep roots in history, stretching back to the era of enslavement of Black bodies in the United States. During this era, Black women were often portrayed as indomitable and unbreakable, able to endure the harshest conditions without complaint. This image was cultivated to justify the brutal treatment of Black women—if they were “strong,” then surely they could withstand the endless labor, abuse, and dehumanization inflicted upon them.

In the 20th century, this trope was further solidified during the Civil Rights Movement and beyond, as Black women were seen as the backbone of both their families and the movement itself. The term “Strong Black Woman” began to be used more widely, often as a compliment, but one that came with an unspoken expectation: that Black women would continue to bear the burdens of society without faltering.

Today, the "Strong Black Woman" stereotype continues to be pervasive, both in popular culture and in everyday life. Research has shown that this trope places undue pressure on Black women to exhibit strength and emotional stoicism at all times, leading to significant psychological and physical health consequences. According to a study published in the Journal of Black Psychology, the internalization of this stereotype is linked to higher levels of stress, anxiety, and depression among Black women, as well as a reluctance to seek help for mental health issues .

Moreover, this stereotype can limit Black women’s opportunities for self-care and rest, as they are often expected to prioritize others’ needs above their own. The expectation of resilience denies Black women the right to be vulnerable, to express weakness, and to seek support when needed. This not only perpetuates systemic inequities but also reinforces the narrative that Black women’s worth is tied to their ability to endure hardship.

We shouldn’t have to be resilient all the time because resilience isn’t a badge of honor; it’s a response to adversity. And the fact that Black women are continually placed in positions where resilience is required speaks volumes about the systemic inequities that persist in our society.

We deserve to be seen as whole people—vulnerable, joyful, strong, and weak. We deserve to rest, to be cared for, to be supported in the ways that we have supported others. We deserve the freedom to say, “No more.”

It’s time to redefine what it means to be a leader, especially for Black women. Leadership shouldn’t be synonymous with sacrifice. It shouldn’t require us to constantly pour from an empty cup. We need to create spaces where Black women can lead without the expectation of resilience, where we can thrive without the need to constantly overcome.

This isn’t a call for Black women to abandon our communities or our roles in the fight for justice. Rather, it’s a call for a collective reimagining of what leadership looks like. It’s a call to honor our humanity as much as our strength, to build systems that don’t demand our resilience as the price of success.

“If Black women all over chose to stop, the World would stop.” This isn’t just a quote; it’s a reality. The world needs to recognize that Black women’s leadership isn’t about resilience—it’s about brilliance, vision, and power. And it’s time for that leadership to be supported, respected, and valued in all its forms.

As Black women, we have proven time and time again that we can lead, that we can overcome, that we can be resilient. But the time has come for us to move beyond resilience as the defining trait of our leadership. We deserve more. Our communities deserve more. The world deserves more.

Let’s stop glorifying resilience and start building a world where Black women can thrive without having to be resilient. Because when we choose to rest, to care for ourselves, to say “no,” we are not abandoning our communities—we are leading by example. And that, too, is a powerful form of leadership.

To learn more, visit https://bit.ly/NTMSignup.?

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