June Fifteenth
Cover art: Maya Risch
“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”
—Malcolm X, 1962
I first heard this quote when I was thirteen years old. It was a cloudy Saturday morning in early April. Beyonce released her critically acclaimed album, Lemonade, earlier that morning. I got on Twitter and my timeline was filled with stills from the film she created to go along with the music. I remember scrambling to start a free trial on her streaming service, Tidal, so I could listen to and join in on appreciating the work she put out. Before this album release, I had no idea that visual albums were even a thing. I snuggled up on my bed, pressed play, and watched as some of the most beautiful depictions of black women and culture flashed across my screen. I was enthralled with the project Lemonade. This album release was one of the first times I realized that albums can tell such beautiful stories. This album and its visuals felt so personal to me. Lemonade is a celebration of black life and black culture, but specifically, and most importantly a celebration of black women. Before then, I had never seen black women depicted in pop culture in such an honest and positive way.
In the visual album, there is a part in Beyonce’s song, “Don’t Hurt Yourself”, where she cuts to a famous Malcolm X speech. For the first time, I heard him speak: “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”. He said these words with such conviction that I felt his pain and anger in my own heart. When I was younger, I did not fully understand what this quote meant. I was just beginning to follow pages that promoted activism and pro-black beliefs on Instagram. I did not understand the gravity of the systems built around and against black women. I was just beginning to learn. All I knew at the time was that the quote felt very personal to me. I kept it tucked in the deepest part of my heart, ready to pull it out whenever I needed it.
After I watched Lemonade, I immediately told my mom and sister about it and we watched it together the following day in our living room. I was obsessed with the album and film for quite some time. All parts of them still remain fresh in my mind to this day, but Malcolm X’s quote in particular really stands out because of the persecution black women in America have faced within the past two weeks.
There are only a few words to describe how I've been feeling. I feel angry, sad, and exhausted. In all, I guess I feel drained the most. Some days I am perfectly fine and can find peace and happiness through forms of media that bring me comfort. These include books, movies, and TV shows. I talk to my friends a ton, and that brings me comfort as well. I have found that I am most comfortable when I am away from social media because I am usually met with more disheartening news than when I went to sleep and it tends to mess up my whole day.
Social media has never been a kind place to black women. Dark skin and trans black women have the online experience worse in particular. I grew up seeing memes circulate the internet that used violent hate speech with black women always as the butt of the joke. For years, we were often compared to roaches or called “bald-headed” and it would just be okay because that was the culture at the time. I recently had a conversation with some friends about how in elementary school we would be teased for our black presenting facial features, and how we are currently unlearning the insecurities that we were fed from adolescence. We talked about how growing up in an age where it was okay to get away with these remarks makes you stronger, but at what cost? When you’re younger, you don’t quite realize how detrimental these quick quips are to your self-esteem. You’re told to brush them off and build a thick skin, but are never told people should not be making those “jokes” in the first place. Thankfully, I have always been surrounded by a support system that has always reinforced the beliefs that I am, and always will be, beautiful. I can’t imagine how lonely I would have felt if I did not have that.
Recently, I was scrolling on Twitter and came across a video that absolutely broke my heart. It was a video of a black woman being thrown into a dumpster. Filmed by multiple bystanders who watched as a group of men picked her up and hurled her. Disregarded. As if she was a piece of trash that meant nothing. Anyone with a strong moral compass would understand the absolute repulsiveness of this action. That throwing someone in a dumpster is an act of evil. As I watched the video, the worst part was seeing the amount of people who could have stopped what was happening. No one did. Instead, they all laughed. It was very reminiscent of the type of videos I would see back in my preteen years. It made me sick to my stomach.
That same day, I was notified of Oluwatoyin Salau’s murder. Oluwatoyin was a Black Lives Matter activist fighting on the frontlines of protests amongst other teenagers who want to see change in America. She was 19. Days before she was found, Oluwatoyin tweeted a thread about the sexual assault she faced and the help she needed. As I read more about Oluwatoyin and the days leading up to her death, I realize she did not have to die. The signs were there. The evidence was there. No one listened to her. No one protected her. I try not to make things about me in these situations, but as I think more about what happened, I can not help but see how Oluwatoyin’s reality could have easily been my own. My sister’s. My friends’. Within all communities, there seems to be a problem with listening to black women.
The Malcolm X quote I heard in seventh grade, the quote that I kept tucked in my heart, suddenly reappeared in my mind on June fifteenth, and I have been thinking about it ever since. The worst part about the situations I’ve detailed above is that I have seen countless stories that resonate with those. Stories of where black women and girls were neglected, disrespected, and unprotected. The root of these issues is not new, and has never been. People do not listen to nor treat black women in the way they should. That is the issue.
The Black Lives Matter movement was built on the backs of black women. Black women have always been at the forefront of the movement, always demanding justice for those who are blatantly wronged. When the same happens to us, when black women are murdered, there is never the same energy. The truth is not all black lives matter to this country yet. We've made strides in getting people to say the words “black lives matter” in the past few weeks, but the energy is frequently directed toward the men in the black community. When will it be our turn to be cared for or defended? It seems that everyone turns a blind eye towards us. It seems that the world is silent. When black trans women are slaughtered, there are no public hashtags. When we cry for help, there is no one there to answer our calls except for other black women. We need to be protected. We need to be listened to. There is no other way.
I think it is high time that society re-evaluates how black women are treated in this country. I think it is time we stop allowing people to get away with harmless “jokes” at the expense of black girls and black women. I think it is time to discuss why we have settled for the mistreatment of black women on every level. I think it is time that we as a country ponder Malcolm X’s words and what they really mean.
I have felt better over the past few days. I’ve spent some time with my friends laughing and having fun. I have experienced days of pure joy and bottomless amounts of love. One thing I’m learning throughout all of this is that you must take time to laugh, have fun, and indulge in moments of joy as long as you don’t lose sight of the bigger picture. It is imperative to step back and rejuvenate in order to propel the movement forward. Today, however, I am angry and saddened. I know I will get back to being joyful soon, but for now I am upset. I demand justice. I want better for all women in the Black community.
“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”
—Malcolm X, 1962
As I’ve grown older I have given much thought to this quote and its meaning. I have realized that it feels like an extension of solidarity and empathy, and acknowledgement of the understanding that the world has failed immensely when it comes to showing up and caring for black girls and women. To me, it feels like a hand reaching out and a reassuring voice telling me “I’m sorry”. I know there is a lot of work to be done on this front. It starts with digging into the *misogynoir that is unknowingly built into a lot of the systems in which we partake. I don’t expect for change to happen overnight, but I think beginning a conversation about what we can do better to protect our black girls and women is a great place to start.
Support black women. Love black women. Listen to black women. Respect black women. PROTECT black women.
Rest in power,
Dominique Fella. Sandra Bland. Breonna Taylor. Riah Milton. Oluwatoyin Salau. And countless others.
*Misogynoir: A type of sexism specifically affecting black women, particularly in pop culture
Author’s Note: If you feel inclined, this video perfectly encapsulates the problem with “joke” culture I touched on earlier. If you choose to watch, I recommend starting at 3:35 and ending at around 5:02. The whole video is important, and you should watch all of it, but this section specifically addresses joke culture and its consequences. Almonte made this video 5 years ago, and it is completely relevant to our culture and climate today.