Blackness: A Beautiful Testimony

My mother’s southern drawl was always a sweet touch. I used to say things to rile her up so I could hear it come alive. “Boy, if you don’t stop playin’ with me,” she’d say with a laugh. Those were the days; I’ll always cherish them. My mother was a healthcare worker who worked long hours: sometimes as long as 13. When I’d come home from school I always phoned her, and often the voice at the other end of the line was unrecognizable at first listen. At the time I didn’t understand why she suppressed her natural tone. I used to think it was funny, but today I don’t find it amusing.

After having spent several long years in corporate America myself, I understand the struggle. The unspoken pressure to tame our natural tone, word choice, and inflection became increasingly unbearable as I continued to climb the proverbial career ladder. The work voice, as I call it, is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how many adjustments we’re expected to make to move forward within non-Black spaces. It’s rarely comfortable, and to be quite honest, is something we shouldn’t have to do.

There’s nothing wrong with being ourselves. I understand the need for professional decorum, but should we as a people continue to allow ourselves to be held to a Eurocentric standard? They’re telling us being Black by default is unsavory and needs to be tweaked. Our name, hair, voices, and demeanor are constantly critiqued, amongst other things that do not define us. Thriving in this world is a delicate tight rope walk between being ourselves and what others believe we should be. We must take the power back by continuing to create our own spaces and lanes so we may authentically be ourselves with no pressure to conform to standards we never agreed to.

Despite all of the progress we’ve made as a people, the anti-Black agenda is still strong in this nation. We understand this deeply as we experience the day-to-day challenges of living in a world that relishes the fruits of our struggle, but does not value our humanity.

I write this piece as a reminder of our great existence. Being Black is an honor although our journey through this earthly plane is filled with obstacles, valleys, and hills to climb. In the midst of it all, we’ve found a way to rise like a phoenix. We must always own our Blackness. There’s grace in our struggle. May we find rest in our strength. After everything we’ve been through, we’re still here growing stronger each day. Our existence is a beautiful testimony.