Woman = White, Feminism = White: When Feminism Mirrors Patriarchy – A Black Woman’s Perspective

From its very roots, mainstream feminism has been shaped to serve a specific narrative—one tied intrinsically to whiteness and, by extension, to systems of dominance (hooks, 1984; Collins, 1990). The idea of “woman” itself has become synonymous with white womanhood, creating a framework that prioritizes one perspective while claiming to speak for all. Feminism, for all its claims to liberate, has often held hands with the very structures of patriarchy and white supremacy it professes to fight against (Crenshaw, 1989; Davis, 1981). In this way, it has mirrored patriarchy’s exclusionary tactics, placing white women at its center and treating others as secondary allies.

In my mind, mainstream feminism, then, isn’t so different from the patriarchy it claims to resist. Just as patriarchy centers men and relegates women to the periphery, white feminism centers itself and keeps Black women and other women of color on the margins (Collins, 1990). This “sisterhood” is one on paper alone—a hollow solidarity that extends itself only when convenient, offering a seat at the table but asking us to keep quiet about our lived realities.

What we see, then, is not true allyship but a transactional relationship where Black women are invited into the fold when it serves a larger agenda, yet often dismissed when we speak of our own issues—issues that are inconvenient for mainstream feminism’s image. This conditional solidarity is harmful, reducing our experiences to mere tools for another’s cause (hooks, 1984). It’s a “space of conditional solidarity,” where our presence is welcomed only as long as we remain an echo of a white-centered narrative. Now, this system is nothing new; it mimics the same selective allyship patriarchy uses to exploit women’s labor without ever truly valuing women themselves.

Consider the core issues feminism has rallied around over the years: suffrage, reproductive rights, and workplace equality. At a glance, they seem inclusive, but their applications often exclude or harm Black communities. For example, while feminism celebrated reproductive rights, it largely ignored the systemic healthcare disparities Black women face—like maternal mortality rates that are starkly higher than those for white women (Davis, 1981). This selective advocacy is not an accident; it is a symptom of a framework that, like patriarchy, centers one experience as the default and views the rest as an afterthought (Crenshaw, 1989).

For me, Womanism, as Alice Walker envisioned it, is an answer to this (Walker, 1982). It’s not a side category or a footnote but an entirely different framework that values the intersections of identity as foundational rather than supplemental. Where mainstream feminism views intersectionality as an accessory to its goals, womanism understands it as essential (Walker, 1982; Crenshaw, 1989). It makes space for us to exist in our fullness, for our stories to be heard and valued—not just as symbols but as complete truths that enrich the entire movement.

This is why womanism is more than an addition to feminism; it’s a refusal to continue working within a system that, at its core, replicates the power structures it claims to resist (hooks, 1984). Womanism, Black feminist thought, and Indigenous frameworks demand real inclusion that is not conditional or performative. They are not buzzwords but living, breathing frameworks that challenge us to go beyond lip service.

What I’ve learned through lived experience and research is that this struggle extends beyond physical spaces into the digital world, where Black women’s voices continue to be policed. Even online, mainstream feminism’s solidarity can be more about surveillance than sanctuary. The concept of fictive kinship—a form of communal support among Black women—often gets co-opted. While sisterhood is a form of kinship we’ve long used to support each other, it’s frequently distorted by those who wish to align with Black women without addressing our specific struggles.

Despite this, Black women have always reclaimed space, both physically and digitally. Black women have utilized Womanist frameworks to treat digital spaces as sites of radical inclusion and truth-telling. Here, Black women set the terms of engagement, creating digital sanctuaries that are not merely protective but transformative—acting not just as participants in these spaces but as narrators, architects, and guardians of our own narratives. In these virtual sanctuaries, true kinship is rooted in accountability and the radical act of listening to and believing Black women’s experiences.

Therefore, for those of us standing outside the bounds of white-centered feminism, we create home and take up roots in frameworks that honor our full humanity, complexities, and collective care. We carve out a space where we are truly seen, where our voices are vital and not a means to an end. Until mainstream feminism evolves to abandon its alliance with whiteness and patriarchy, it will remain an ally in name only, a sisterhood that falters the moment its privilege is challenged, and at this point, we have no real need for that lack of care.

References

Collins, P. H. (1990). Black feminist thought: Knowledge, consciousness, and the politics of empowerment. Boston: Unwin Hyman.

Crenshaw, K. (1989). Demarginalizing the intersection of race and sex: A Black feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine, feminist theory, and antiracist politics. University of Chicago Legal Forum, 1989(1), 139–167.

Davis, A. Y. (1981). Women, race, & class. New York: Vintage.

hooks, b. (1984). Feminist theory: From margin to center. Boston, MA: South End Press.

Walker, A. (1982). In search of our mothers’ gardens: Womanist prose. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.?

About Unapologetically Leading: The Black Women's Mixtape: Dedicated to the leadership journeys of Black women, this "mixtape" showcases stories both traditional and nontraditional, with the hope of creating connection and acknowledging the narratives of Black women.

About DeLisha Tapscott Ed.D.: DeLisha Tapscott, Ed.D. is a writer and social change agent with a background in English Literature and a master's degree in Organizational Management specializing in Leadership and Media Management. She has utilized her knowledge within the #SayHerName movement to help others become a catalyst for change by using their platforms to speak up against injustices impacting the Black community. With a focal point on Black women, she believes that "Black women and their stories are ignored and often become whispers in the background, like ghosts in the night."

As a facilitator, she has utilized her talents to speak at Harvard University, Texas A&M University, and the University of Maryland on the topics of social justice, the experiences of Black women within society, and intersectionality. DeLisha graduated from The University of Dayton in their School of Education and Health Sciences Ed.D program, focused on Organizational Leadership. Her research examines the intersectional experiences of identity negotiation and Black women within white-dominant spaces. She is currently a Chief Operating Officer for a NY-based non-profit. By championing organizational development, she seeks to center organizational change using a people-centered approach to coaching, equity and inclusion, people operations, and culture building.