Since March is Women’s History Month, I wanted to pay a special tribute to God’s most alluring, attractive, beautiful and fascinating creatures, “Black Women”. Black women have borne the weight of our struggle in this country for 400 years. They have cultivated our future generations in their wombs. Some have given birth to preachers, teachers, doctors, lawyers, astronauts, business owners and politicians, while others have delivered a promise only to have it snatched by a society with no respect for her or her seed. Bound in their DNA is the experience of nurturing a child in Alabama and having it snatched from their arms, branded, shipped to Texas and sold on an auction block. They have breastfed the children of others while watching theirs go hungry.

       Black women have been raped and scorned. They have been pimped and depreciated. They have cooked, cleaned and worked for little or no compensation. They’ve watched their offspring maligned and mangled and have had their character smeared and assassinated. I am amazed at their strength. No other woman in history has been stripped of her traditions, customs and culture. No other has been chastised, demonized and criticized as they have. They’ve stood when their men couldn’t. When men were bull whipped, castrated and hung, they carried on and provided strength for our families.

       Don’t take my word for it, just ask those who have stood through the centuries. Ask Harriet Tubman or Corretta Scott-King or Betty Shabazz. Ask Mamie Till or Mary McCloud Bethune or the countless, nameless black women who have stood through the test of time. Ask Fannie Lou Hamer, who gave what could easily be a universal declaration for all black women when she said she was “sick and tired of being sick and tired.” I am sure black women are tired. They’re tired of being called B-words, and H-words and N-words and other-words and everything except the children of God that they are. They’re tired of being disrespected by black men who should be saluting them, loving them and protecting them. They’re tired of having to work twice as hard to receive the same pay as less qualified men.

       So, if we’re going to pause to celebrate womanhood, first and foremost in my mind is to salute the black woman and to say thank you. Thank you for struggling so hard to overcome racism, sexism, stereotypes and aggression. Thank you for rebelling against the standards of European beauty and decorum. Thank you for standing staunch against the stereotypes and for raising sons and daughters,  often alone while working one, sometimes two jobs. Thank you for fighting for equality and educational opportunities and for showing the world through your many accomplishments that there is no limit to your capacity to lead and command. Thank you for being unapologetically critical of all efforts to undermine or denigrate black people and for your courageous struggle to emancipate our people. Thank you for standing strong in the face of sexism and humiliation, even from your own men. Thank you for singing about love while not being loved back and for reminding us that to love God and to love ourselves is the greatest love of all.

       Because of who you are and for all you’ve done, I salute you, Black Women. I salute DeLois F. Swan, my mother, who worked hard to raise her children and to make a positive contribution to her community. I salute all the black women who worked, fought, prayed, achieved and ultimately conquered. To the young black women who may be struggling with issues of men, drugs, school and children, I say to you: Our great-grandmothers, grandmothers and mothers withstood unbelievable conditions. You have the power inside of you to succeed despite your current circumstances. Don’t ever quit or give up the fight to show your greatness, for as a Black Woman, you are strong and brilliant.  n