Why the Strong Black Woman Trope is very Toxic
The strong Black woman trope invalidates Black women. It is a sign that tells Black women they can never be enough. My assumption is that parts of this trope apply to immigrants, first-generation and people of color burdened with the hypocrisy of toxic strength which is actually no strength at all. I center Black women in this piece for the sake of clarity and to draw attention to the systemic exclusion that invalidates our experiences.
Toxic strength
Toxic strength is a product of both White supremacy and patriarchy. It is an expectation that Black women should endure social, economic and other marginalizations without complaint at the expense of their wellbeing. I’ll start with the systemic dismissal of Black women’s voices in healthcare. The “father” of modern gynecology, Marion Sims, performed surgical procedures on enslaved Black women without anesthesia in the 1840s. This action was embedded in the ideology that Black women are strong and can endure pain. It is an ideology that still exists today. In 2017 I had repetitive stomach pain and would throw up occasionally. The first time I went to the clinic the doctor said I was just stressed and had nothing to worry about. I was angry at her dismissive treatment of my illness, I was in pain but I returned home. The pain continued and I returned to the clinic a few more times. It was diagnosed as flu and the doctor said to rest. The last time I went angry and was not going to leave until tests were performed. So when the doctor came into the room I started with “I want tests,” and he said, yes, we will do tests. He became my favorite doctor since then. The test results showed I had celiac and was reacting to gluten. Why did no one listen when I went the first time? I want a world where Black women are taken seriously the first time we speak. Where we don’t have to explain repeatedly or experience an unnecessary amount of pain to be heard.
To buttress this point, last week I had a medical emergency and rushed to the clinic. The illness left me in pain so I could not move a side of my body. I am unable to give full details of the events that followed right now. I will summarize this way: throughout the week I had to justify to some people that I really was not feeling okay. They did not believe me. So on my next check-up, I asked the doctor for a note I could present as evidence. He told me, “you look fine on the outside, but that does not mean you are not in pain.” It left me wishing I could cry more, wear my emotions on my sleeves and just ball at the slightest inconvenience so people believe when I say “I am not okay.”
Just because I carry on and make things happen does not mean I am. At the same time, I also realized crying more is not the solution. There is an expectation that Black women should show up even when they are half dying to perform some duty. Why is that okay? In what sense is that acceptable. A lot of scholars have written on the trope that Black women are not considered feminine. We do not meet the standards of blonde, fair skinned, gentle speaking, skinny and because of that society does not treat Black women as women (see White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color by Ruby Hamad as a reference). So when a Black woman says she is in pain, society hears but does not listen.
The Take it in Politics of Respectability
Some years ago I got out of a toxic “situationship” and was processing anger and betrayal. I voiced to another Black woman my decision to stay away from a specific place that reminded me of the betrayal this person caused. This woman went on to say “You have to put yourself together and show that you are strong.”At the time I knew something was wrong with this statement. Why do I have to prove to people I am strong, why should people’s opinions trump my mental health, for crying out loud! I did not return to said location until I was ready. There was no need to prove anything to anyone. Now, a Black woman told me this, and the awareness that Black women have imbibed this strong woman trope is sad. There is nothing wrong with being a strong Black woman but there is everything wrong with posing as a strong Black woman to the extent that it erases your humanity. That is marginal. Embedded in this trope is a “take it in politics of respectability” where society expects Black women to show up as the wise sage, motherly, soothing other people’s worries and fears except ours. One is expected to show up as perfect at all times. Perfectionism is a myth, see my last post.
White tears, Karens and Erasing Black women’s agency
The strong Black woman trope positions Black women as motherly, pacifiers, always understanding and ready to counsel. Putting their emotions aside while soothing everyone else’s. I am reading Ruby Hamad’s White Tears, Brown Scars and the research on White tears is overwhelming and sad. White tears, as Hamad describes it, is an utilization of tears as a bullying tactic to antagonize Black women when they address White women’s racist behavior. Hamad is not saying all White women are like this or all tears are fake. Not at all. She is referring to the systemic pattern where White tears are used to erase or marginalize Blackness. Hamad gives the example of a conversation between Fox News Host, Mellisa Francis, Harris Faulkner, Juan Williams and Marie Harf. A group of people were protesting at a far-right rally in Charlottesville when a White supremacist drove a car into them killing a thirty-two-year-old woman, Heather Heyer. Mellisa Francis defended the White supremacist and her co-panelists tried to correct her. Francis broke into tears, becoming emotional claiming they were judging her. An awkward silence followed because of the tears and Harris Faulkner, the Black woman on the show, had to take Francis through this experience in a calm soothing voice. Hamad writes, “What should be remarkable about this clip is that it is the black woman who remains stoic and almost expressionless while the white woman is freely emotional and teary.” Much worse is that the tears drew attention from the issue at hand to Francis’s emotional breakdown.
Hamad continues to write about a situation where a woman of color was called aggressive by her co-workers because she complained to HR about their consistent petting. This woman has long curly hair and her White co-workers had a habit of touching and patting it down like she was a pet in a zoo. She made a complaint to HR and these women labeled her as aggressive. Why? For not wanting to participate in their problematic affection? What irks me about this story is the obvious privilege and inequality it signals. If the tables were turned would they be okay with this woman of color touching their hair or petting them like zoo animals?!
The sneakiness of White supremacy is that it occurs in such covert ways that it becomes almost difficult to express unless one experiences it. Things like petting Black women in the workplace or calling them pet names like they are children or puppies is dismissive. Would you call Bob at HR, a doll when he gets work done? Would you call Harry a smart cookie when he turns in a project? So why are you referring to Lisa who has a Master’s and a Ph.D. as a smart cookie when she does something she is obviously qualified for?! How does this connect to the strong Black woman trope? In all of these situations, Black women and Women of color are expected to take it all in? Rise above it, don’t complain, be good and pacify others even when they are pushing against your personal and professional boundaries.
How do I conclude? I still have a whole lot to say so there might be a part II. In the meantime, read and educate yourself more so your existence does not invalidate someone else’s.
