In 2010, I started writing publicly about millennial Black Christian women’s faith and feminism—specifically our sexual agency and how Black church doctrine seeks to control it.
For an entire decade in this public space, I took a lot of painful hits (mostly from Black male pastors). I still take them. Those hits are well documented and receipts are plentiful.
That, in 2020, millennial Black Christian women are able to speak freely about sex and faith has much to do with the work I did in the last decade and the scars and wounds I have from that work.
As I transition into the next iteration of my calling and vocation, I’m excited to see where sisters take Black church and Black feminism conversations in these spaces. More than anything, I’m glad the vast majority of them are not experiencing the vitriol that I have.
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Folks tagged me in their memories of this. 3yrs ago, @xonecole shared this snippet of my sermon, “My Lemonade Has Vodka In It” (it’s on YouTube). Though I’d gone “viral” for many things before then, the way this snippet traveled did more than I could have ever imagined.
I will not rehash where I was three years ago. I will, however, honor this a proof that the fire does not consume us. That “trusting God” is a gift we not only give to ourselves but an offering we are able to give back to God.
Three years later, I am healed and I am whole. I am thriving and I am blessed. I am also complicated and can be stubborn. I am human, living a life full of ups and downs, ebbs and flows. And it is beautiful.
If you've been following me awhile, you know that I talked about the rough fight against the bank to keep my mother's home and having to accept that, to keep fighting, would mean using the resources Mama left me and Uncle Dean and my BFF helped me to see she wouldn't want that.
But my prayer was always that the house would eventually go to a family of color. Mama was proud of integrating our neighborhood and having the largest house (5 bedrooms) at the time and the only one with a stone front! LOL!
Yall. I learned today that MAMA'S HOUSE WENT TO ANOTHER BLACK WOMAN!!! And not only is it any Black woman, it's another sister that my mother knew and respected!!! And not only is it another sister Mama knew and respected, they both have the same first name!!!
Today makes five years since I buried Mama and, last night, I had a dream about her!
Actually, because it was in real time, it wasn’t a dream. Mama *came* to me last night!
I got her approval on some things and she spoke her mind about other things that have happened lately.
One of my mother’s friends/coworkers was also in the dream because Mama was attending to something for him, as well. He made some joke about how she’s supposed to be resting. Mama said she’s resting and working.
I woke up and immediately wrote that down! That great cloud of witnesses we each have is resting from their labor *and* working on our behalf.
At least twice a week, my friends and I question why we went to seminary and grad school only to be in conversation with folks who don’t take our work or what we do seriously enough to engage it in ways that will challenge them to be introspective and better.
It’s frustrating.
I got a few messages this morning from pastors who will stand with me privately but will never say the same things publicly. I’m used to that.
Still, it’s frustrating and cowardly AF.
Black feminist/womanist theological work is not easy, especially when you make it clear you’re not invested in any form of upholding patriarchal systems and powers, even when Black women can *benefit* from it.
But can we really say White people haven’t been able to control the Black church when, as an institution, it is deeply sexist, classic homophobic, transphobic, ableist and, ultimately, anti-Black?
White “people” may not have control there but White supremacy definitely does.
*should say “classist, homophobic” not “classic homophobic”
I know folks are feeling a way about the right wing attacks on Warnock, the Black preaching tradition and how they are reminiscent to what happened to Jeremiah Wright during Obama’s run. But let’s not be ahistorical.
When tragedies and losses happen, let us resist the notion that God has allowed these things to tell us something.
While it may seem comforting in theory, it suggests that God has to hurt us to get our attention and, because the pain and traumatic experiences happen to some in ways it does not happen to others, it creates additional questions of favoritism and the inevitable "why".
"Why them and not someone else?"
"Why me?"
And though we like to believe it, there is no answer to these questions sufficient enough to understand and compensate for our losses and experiences.