When it comes to societal movements, beauty trends, politics, education, entertainment, sports — and the list goes on — Black women are indeed the blueprint. And while this may be a badge of honor for some, as it pulls back the veil on the “strong Black woman” stereotype, it also speaks to a larger responsibility and call to action.
Because Black women so often lead in our homes, industries, and places of worship, we inadvertently position ourselves as targets — often left to fend for ourselves. Malcolm X spoke to this truth when he famously said, “The most disrespected person in America is the Black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the Black woman. The most neglected person in America is the Black woman.”
This isn’t merely a quote — it’s rooted in fact and reflected in the everyday experiences of countless Black women we know, love, and see walking out this reality. As keynote speaker Symone Sanders-Townsend stated at the 47th Annual Colorado Black Women for Political Action (CBWPA) Luncheon, “No one is coming to save us. We have to save ourselves.”
That’s why when Bianka Emerson, president of CBWPA, stood before hundreds of community leaders, young people, politicians, and allies at the luncheon and revealed that — due to lack of funding and external pressures — she had considered pulling the plug on this historic event and even changing the organization’s name to appease funders, I was caught off guard, but not surprised.
As that popular social media sound says, “The pressure is getting worser.”
Thankfully, Emerson found the inner strength to move forward and was met with applause when she shared her story. Her transparency mirrored the resilience that defines so many Black women — the same strength that has sustained our communities for generations.
We are living in times that demand urgency: blatant attacks on our identity, mass firings of Black women from positions of power, defunding of essential benefit programs, the silencing of our voices in education and the workplace, and threats of redistricting and voter suppression. And this is only the beginning of what’s to come.
Retrospectively, Vice President Kamala Harris’s loss in the 2024 presidential election feels like an omen — a signal of what many Black women and other women of color may face at an even greater magnitude. We are often the most qualified, the most connected, and the most poised for leadership — yet there always seems to be something greater at play. An undercurrent. A resistance that our “Black Girl Magic” alone can’t overcome.
It’s time to open our eyes and accept that we are no longer living in the era where our voices are automatically the loudest in the room or our perspectives are celebrated and elevated. We must once again fight for those freedoms.
Our children, communities, friends, partners, and mentees are waiting for us to step up. And while we should celebrate women like Tamika Mallory, Angela Rye, and Rep. Jasmine Crockett for their national leadership and truth-telling, there is no single leader who can pull us out of this moment.
If you’re reading this — it’s time to learn your role in the fight.
Maybe you’re not the one at the podium. Maybe you’re the one passing out flyers, funding the movement, providing the meeting space, serving the food, or praying for those on the front lines. Whatever your role is — it’s time to play your position.
We can’t afford to wait any longer. No one is coming to save us.
