As I reflect on the 2024 election cycle, I’m struck by a profound paradox that continues to shape American society.
Black women remain the consistent backbone of democratic progress in America, yet our position at the intersection of race and gender leaves us perpetually scrutinized, often dismissed, and systematically undervalued.
Malcolm X’s words from 1962 still ring hauntingly true: “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.” Sixty-two years later, we’re still fighting to prove our worth in spaces that should have long ago recognized our power.
Let’s look at the numbers, because they tell a story that can’t be ignored. As of 2024, in a nation where Black women make up 7% of the population, only two Black women have ever served as CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. This isn’t just a gap – it’s a chasm.
The 2023 McKinsey & Lean In Women in the Workplace report reveals an even more sobering reality: Black women represent just 1.4% of C-suite executives. For every 100 men promoted from entry level to manager, only 54 Black women receive the same promotion. And while other groups have seen incremental gains in leadership representation, Black women’s numbers have remained virtually stagnant. We aren’t facing a glass ceiling – we’re facing a concrete wall reinforced by both racial and gender bias.
When it comes to access to capital, the statistics are equally stark. Black women-led startups received less than 1% of venture capital funding in recent years. We’re expected to bootstrap our dreams while watching others receive millions in seed funding. We’re told to work harder while watching mediocrity get rewarded with opportunity.
When Black women founders do secure funding, they often report being held to different standards, facing more intensive due diligence, and receiving smaller rounds at lower valuations than their counterparts. A Harvard study showed that Black women founders are asked more questions about potential losses, while their counterparts are asked more about potential gains – a subtle but significant bias that affects funding outcomes.
History reveals a troubling pattern: whenever Black communities build pathways to economic power, these achievements face systematic dismantling. The recent ruling against the Fearless Fund’s Strivers Grant program isn’t just about one investment vehicle – it’s the latest chapter in a long story of economic obstruction. The fund was created by Black women, for Black women, attempting to address the very real funding gap that mainstream venture capital has failed to fix. Yet, was challenged and effectively halted under the guise of discrimination – a bitter irony given the systemic exclusion that necessitated its creation in the first place.
This pattern echoes through generations. The destruction of Black Wall Street in Tulsa’s Greenwood District wasn’t an isolated incident – it was part of a larger tapestry of economic disruption. Similar stories played out in Rosewood, Florida, in Wilmington, North Carolina, and countless other communities where Black economic success was met with orchestrated opposition.
Methods of systemic economic dismantling and disruption have evolved. Consider the subprime mortgage crisis of 2008, which disproportionately stripped wealth from Black communities. Studies showed that Black women, regardless of income level, were often steered toward predatory loans even when they qualified for better terms.
An estimated $194 billion in wealth was extracted from Black communities during this period, representing the largest loss of Black wealth in modern history.
Yet, despite these barriers, despite this systematic exclusion, Black women continue to show up. We vote at higher rates than any other demographic group. We start businesses at six times the national average. We earn college degrees at increasing rates. We do this not because the path is easy, but because we understand that our persistence is revolutionary.
We are, quite literally, the mothers of this nation. Our bodies built this country’s wealth. Our resilience preserved our families through centuries of oppression. Our wisdom guided movements for justice. Our strategic minds continue to shape progressive politics. And still, in boardrooms and ballot boxes, our power is questioned, our expertise doubted, our voices muted.
But here’s what I want every Black woman to know…
Your existence is resistance. Your success is not just personal – it’s political. Your achievements are not just individual victories – they’re collective progress.
Black women I offer this challenge and this comfort: Challenge yourself to step up, even when – especially when – spaces feel unwelcoming. Run for office. Start that business. Demand that promotion. Apply for that grant. Your presence disrupts the status quo, and that disruption is necessary for change.
But also, please love and care for yourself:
- Practice radical self-love in a world that may not love you back
- Embrace radical rest in a society that expects you to always be strong
- Exercise radical boundaries in a culture that demands your constant sacrifice
- Say “no” radically to protect your peace and your purpose
We must redefine what it means to be strong. Strength isn’t just in endurance – it’s in knowing when to rest. It’s in choosing yourself. It’s in protecting your joy as fiercely as you fight for justice.
As we move forward, remember that our power has never been given – it has been claimed. Through poll taxes, literacy tests, segregation, and voter suppression, Black women have persisted in making their voices heard. We’ve turned that persistence into power, that struggle into strategy.
The path forward requires both collective action and individual care. It demands that we continue to show up at the polls, in boardrooms, and in startup pitches. But it also requires that we show up for ourselves – fiercely protecting our right to rest, live in joy, and to find peace.
Black women, you are seen. You are valued. Your work matters. Your rest matters. Your joy matters. Continue to lead, but lead with love – for your community and for yourself.
Let’s continue to make history, but let’s do it on our own terms. Let’s redefine power not just as the ability to persevere, but as the wisdom to pause, the courage to rest, and the strength to say “no” when our spirits need renewal.