'Strength' of Black Women

In one of our initial classes, we dissected the layers of oppression experienced by black women. They have to undergo not just oppression by the white men and women, but also the Black men. This struggle, particularly in the political arena, were explored by Bell Hooks.

In a political atmosphere where the white women are separating themselves from the racial question, and the black men are separating themselves from the sexist question, who would a black woman align herself with? Hooks does a commendable job of explaining how such an atmosphere affects the black woman’s identity. Although the Civil Right’s Movement was questioning the racial inequalities in society, patriarchy was so entrenched, not just in the minds of the black men, but also in the minds of the black women, that even identifying as a woman (a part of a gendered group that is undergoing oppression) was a rarity. More than anything, this makes me appreciate how far women of color have come, in terms of identifying themselves as such.

The argument put forward by Hooks that most intrigued me, though, was regarding the ‘strength’ of women.

“Usually, when people talk about the strength of black women they are referring to the way in which they see black women coping with the oppression”

This idea, that women who are silently bearing oppression, and celebrating their allocated place as mothers and homemakers, is not foreign to a Pakistani woman. Painting liberation as resilience in the face of the cards that you’re dealt with, instead of fighting those structures, can be extremely dangerous because such a narrative can have the tendency of suppressing dissent. A woman, when being told repeatedly that she is being celebrated for carrying out the roles assigned to her with patience and dignity, can easily internalize this appreciation, feeling valued in her own oppression. A typical Pakistani middle-class urban woman, for example, is told that in obeying her father, brothers and then her chosen husband, lies her duty. If she carries out this duty with devotion, no matter the violence she undergoes, she will be hailed as a ‘good’, ‘strong’ woman. In fact, the word ‘patience’ is thrown around as the highest level of virtue associated with colored women, even though it is hardly ever associated with men. My aunts would often talk about women in the family who underwent trials and unfair treatment not just at the hands of her husband but her entire family, and never uttered a word in retaliation, almost in awe of her admirable ‘strength’.

This, according to Hooks, is the perfect recipe for their identity being “socialized out of existence”. Most decoloniality theorists that we have studied (Fanon, Cabral) almost take the role of violence, in its varying forms, as a given in a liberation struggle. Therefore, to hail the exact opposite as a tool of liberation for women would inevitable keep them on a backfoot. Without putting up a fight against oppression, in its various forms, without using any form of violence against this imposed oppression, black women could not begin a journey of liberation, let alone recognizing their identity and existence. When Aurat March protestors in Pakistan are told to dial down their slogans to adapt to the sensibilities of men, this essay by Bell Hooks makes me unable to even consider the political pros and cons of that idea. The right to speak against the norms considered proper for colored women can only be the first step to dismantling them.