Black History

‘Who Will Revere the Black Woman?’ Remembering Nancy, Cerina and So Many More

PUBLISHED 4/22/2026 by

Even though I did not know Nancy Metayer, my heart is utterly broken by the loss of her life and the violence of her death. The night before her funeral, I joined a virtual vèyè in her honor—a space to keep watch, to remember her impact and to hold one another in communal care.

That same day, news broke about Dr. Cerina Fairfax, also killed in her home. I did not know her either, and still, I was gutted.

Nor did I know Pastor Tammy McCollum, Ashly Robinson, Qualeisha Barnes, Davonta Curtis or Barbara Deer—Black women killed in just a matter of weeks. And to think these are only the names we know.

In moments like this, I find myself returning to a question first posed by Abbey Lincoln decades ago: “Who will revere the Black woman?” The reality of this violence—and the way it is so often explained away or softened—makes that question feel as urgent as ever.

Black feminists have long named the patterns, the structures and the stakes. And still, we are left mourning, naming and insisting: We will not let their lives be forgotten. We will continue the work in their honor—because we revere them.

Educating Women: A History of Access, Exclusion and Backlash

PUBLISHED 4/13/2026 by

The war against “radical gender ideology” has been staggering. The ascent of President Trump brought calls for the elimination of women’s and LGBTQ centers, rollbacks on Title IX protections, the exclusion of trans women from college sports and the purging of gender and sexuality studies from college curricula across U.S. higher education. These actions signal a massive backlash against decades of progress—and are inseparable from a broader assault on civil rights-era protections for people of color.

However, this moment is nothing new. It echoes an earlier race- and gender-based backlash over a century ago, when growing numbers of white middle-class women began to attend college. Against the backdrop of Black emancipation, increased migration and the expanding feminist movement, women’s education was cast as a threat—not just to patriarchy, but to the future of the white race.

Today’s backlash is the latest attempt to restore the status quo—to draw boundaries around who is entitled to higher education and to reinforce a racial and gender hierarchy that has always shaped access to learning in the United States.

(This essay is part of the FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists series, marking the 250th anniversary of America by reclaiming the revolution through the women and gender-expansive people whose ideas, labor and resistance shaped U.S. democracy.)

Trump’s Attack on Birthright Citizenship Echoes a Confederate Playbook

PUBLISHED 4/3/2026 by | UPDATED 4/9/2026 at 4:25 P.M. PT

The Supreme Court recently heard oral arguments in Trump v. Barbara, a landmark case that seeks to fundamentally rewrite the substance and meaning of one of the most important provisions of the Constitution—birthright citizenship—by presidential fiat. 

For over 150 years, birthright citizenship has been protected by the 14th Amendment and widely recognized as one of the most important, fundamental rights found in the Constitution. 

At the core of this case is not only a challenge to birthright citizenship, but an attack on a nation that fought back against the villainy and evils of slavery and Chinese exclusion laws. It is an affront to the civil rights movement’s victory over “separate but equal” policies of the Jim Crow era—policies that sought to fasten Black people to segregationist second-class citizenship.   

Trump is writing the modern-day version of a Confederate playbook. 

Sally Hemings and the Making of Democracy

PUBLISHED 3/30/2026 by

The United States was founded not through declarations of equality, but through the labor of Black women whose political work reproduced the nation, even as it was erased from the democratic archive. 

Sally Hemings is rarely situated within the United States’ democratic legacy, despite her central role in the material conditions through which democracy was made possible.

In shaping the conditions of her children’s freedom, Hemings exercised a form of maternal political authority that governed who could move beyond enslavement. This labor stands in sharp contrast to Jefferson’s authorship of democratic ideals, which articulated freedom in abstract and ambiguous terms, while Hemings produced freedom materially through the governance of reproduction and kinship under constraint.

Hemings’ strategic negotiations secured her and her children’s futures within a political order that both denied her legal personhood and depended on her labor.

(This essay is part of the FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists series, marking the 250th anniversary of America by reclaiming the revolution through the women and gender-expansive people whose ideas, labor and resistance shaped U.S. democracy.)

In a Time of Backlash, the Combahee River Collective Still Shows the Way

PUBLISHED 3/27/2026 by

Combahee was born in response to the murders of 12 Black women in Boston at a time when racial violence had a pernicious vice-hold over the city.

When so many Black feminist icons of their generation have gone on to become ancestors, we are privileged to have access to these women, and other Black feminist elders like them today. At a time when books are being banned, there are galling attempts to erase the histories and the stories of marginalized groups, the radical beginnings of the Combahee River Collective must be amplified. These women were proud of their African American heritage, unequivocal about their socialist politics, and unabashed about their lesbian identity. They have as much to teach us now as they did then.

She Wanted to Be Free: Black Women’s Revolutionary Resistance

PUBLISHED 3/26/2026 by

Ona Judge was one of at least nine enslaved people owned by George and Martha Washington. At the end of Washington’s presidency, the first family prepared to return to Mount Vernon, their Virginia plantation. Ona Judge prepared to flee and live free.  

She was not alone. Black women made clear, daily, that remaining in bondage was not their preferred state. And enslavers knew and acknowledged this readily apparent fact. Enslavers throughout Britain’s North American colonies passed laws and slave codes that instituted severe physical punishment for resistance and rebellion.

Still, Black women sued enslavers for their freedom. Sometimes, they poisoned, set ablaze, or found other means to murder their enslavers. They fled from their households and plantations, even if for only a short time. Black women slowed down work. They grew their own gardens. They helped sustain their communities despite the ever-looming prospect of sale. They raised children, their own and their enslavers’.  

(This essay is part of the FEMINIST 250: Founding Feminists series, marking the 250th anniversary of America by reclaiming the revolution through the women and gender-expansive people whose ideas, labor and resistance shaped U.S. democracy.)

Celebrating Black Americans’ Commitment to Democracy, From Jesse Jackson to Dorothy Height to Shirley Chisholm

PUBLISHED 2/20/2026 by

Weekend Reading on Women’s Representation is a compilation of stories about women’s representation in politics, on boards, in sports and entertainment, in judicial offices and in the private sector in the U.S. and around the world—with a little gardening and goodwill mixed in for refreshment!

This week:
—We celebrate the impact of Jesse Jackson.
—A new poll shows that Kamala Harris would defeat Donald Trump in a rematch.
—What the Heritage Foundation’s war on gender equality means for women’s representation.

… and more.

Who’s American? Whose America? Bad Bunny’s Radical Halftime Message

PUBLISHED 2/12/2026 by and

Thirteen minutes is how long it lasted, and global superstar Bad Bunny—full name Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio—more than delivered. Set against pulsating Afro-Latin rhythms and brimming with the energetic dancing bodies of Black, Brown and other multicolored peoples, the 2026 Super Bowl halftime show transformed this historic moment of the first all-Spanish musical spectacle into a cultural reset. Now counted among the most watched halftime performances—with close to 130 million views—the Super Bowl was rightfully renamed the “Benito Bowl.”

Bad Bunny’s performance came just one week after he made history as the first artist recording exclusively in Spanish to win the Grammy’s top honor for Album of the Year. It arrived, too, amid escalating violence tied to ICE enforcement and the policing and deportation of Brown and Black communities. At a moment when the U.S. president is railing against diversity, equity and inclusion—and circulating virulently racist content targeting his predecessor and the nation’s first Black president and first lady during Black History Month—the cultural resonance of this halftime show feels all the more potent.

Bad Bunny’s dynamic performance is an affirmation of the same communities currently terrorized by state-sanctioned violence. At rallies and marches, people play Bad Bunny. In moments of grief and passion, people play Bad Bunny. His refusal to be silenced, to be forgotten, is an inspiration of hope and resilience for social movements. His music is music of the revolution, which was spectacularly televised in the middle of a widely watched football game.  

A Letter to My Future Self in a Time of Undoing

PUBLISHED 2/10/2026 by

This essay is one of three “Letters to My Future Self” included in Flipping the Menopause Script Is Essential to Democracy. Through personal reflection, political memory and spiritual inquiry, these letters consider menopause and midlife as thresholds—moments of undoing, reckoning and renewal. They invite readers to see aging not as decline, but as a site of transformation, agency and hard-won power.

“Since we were born in 1967 … we were told, implicitly and explicitly, that we were the first generation of Black children born into the fullness of freedom promised by law. The first generation of Black women was meant to be fully protected by the government. Free to vote without obstruction. Free to be educated without limits. Free to open a bank account, hold a credit card and own property. Free to marry who we loved. Free to live without our rights being constantly renegotiated.

“That was the promise we inherited. …

“Menopause sharpened my understanding that rights, like bodies, require attending to and care. That neglect is a political choice. That erosion is not accidental. That what happens to aging bodies mirrors what happens to democracies that refuse to honor those most impacted by time, labor and sacrifice. So I am writing to you, Future Me, because I want us to meet each other awake.

“Who are we when I finally arrive?

“Are we softer without being smaller? Stronger without armor? Have we learned how to rest without apology? Have we let go of the belief that our worth must be proven through exhaustion? …

“If you are an ancestor now, please remind me of what mattered most. Not the accolades. Not the fear. Not the scarcity. Remind me that I belonged to myself. That I belonged to my people. That I trusted the wisdom of my changing body.”

(This essay is part of the latest Women & Democracy installment, published in the middle of Black History Month, in partnership with Black Girls’ Guide to Surviving Menopause. Menopause is not only a physical transition—it is also cultural, social and political. Recognizing its full scope is essential to advancing true health and civic equity.)