Black Women Taught Us: An Intimate History of Black Feminism

by Jenn M. Jackson

A reclamation of essential history and a hopeful gesture toward a better political future, this is what listening to Black women looks like —from a professor of political science and columnist for Teen Vogue .

This is my offering. My love letter to them, and to us.

Jenn M. Jackson, PhD, has been known to bring historical acuity to some of the most controversial topics in America today. Now, in their first book, Jackson applies their critical analysis to the questions that have long energized their Why has Black women’s freedom fighting been so overlooked throughout history, and what has our society lost because of our refusal to engage with our forestrugglers’ lessons?

A love letter to those who have been minimized and forgotten, this collection repositions Black women’s intellectual and political work at the center of today’s liberation movements.

Across eleven original essays that explore the legacy of Black women writers and leaders—from Harriet Jacobs and Ida B. Wells to the Combahee River Collective and Audre Lorde—Jackson sets the record straight about Black women’s longtime movement organizing, theorizing, and coalition building in the name of racial, gender, and sexual justice in the United States and abroad. These essays show, in both critical and deeply personal terms, how Black women have been at the center of modern liberation movements despite the erasure and misrecognition of their efforts. Jackson illustrates how Black women have frequently done the work of liberation at great risk to their lives and livelihoods.

For a new generation of movement organizers and co-strugglers, Black Women Taught Us serves as a reminder that Black women were the first ones to teach us how to fight racism, how to name that fight, and how to imagine a more just world for everyone.

Genres: Nonfiction, Feminism, History, Race, Essays, Politics, Womens

368 pages, Hardcover

Published January 23, 2024

About the author

Jenn Jackson is the author of BLACK WOMEN TAUGHT US (Penguin Random House, 2024) and POLICING BLACKNESS (expected 2026). Their work rests at the intersections of Blackness, gender, sexuality, policing, and social movements. They are a contributor at Yes! Magazine focused on politics, queer and trans rights, and building free Black futures. Their writing has appeared at The Washington Post, Al Jazeera, Teen Vogue, Essence, The Root, Ebony, and Bitch magazines, among others.

Their newsletter, Love Notes, can be found at jennmjacksonphd.substack.com.

Jackson is an assistant professor of political science at Syracuse University and holds a PhD in political science from the University of Chicago.

Reviews

[Sierra · Rating 4 out of 5]

*audiobook

[Em · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Black Women Taught Us: An Intimate History of Black Feminism" by Dr. Jenn M. Jackson is a profoundly insightful and necessary work that brings to light the long-overlooked contributions of Black women to the ongoing struggle for justice and equality. As a therapist who believes in the transformative power of literature, this book struck a chord with me on a personal and professional level.

Dr. Jackson's book is nothing short of a love letter to Black women throughout history, a testament to our resilience, courage, and enduring commitment to the fight for liberation. The author's extensive research and critical analysis shed light on the essential, yet often underappreciated, role that Black women have played in the political and intellectual landscape. Our work, ideas, and sacrifices have been instrumental in shaping movements for racial, gender, and sexual justice, both in the United States and beyond.

In this collection of eleven original essays, Dr. Jackson takes us on a journey through time, introducing us to the voices of Black women who have been at the forefront of modern liberation movements.

This book is an essential read for anyone seeking a deeper understanding of the roots of modern liberation movements and the remarkable individuals who have paved the way for change. Thank you to the author and publisher for the e-arc copy!

[Booked.Shaye BWRT · Rating 5 out of 5]

A MUST READ.
Period.
Actually, don’t speak to me unless you’ve Read it.
Thanks , Mgmt.

[Leanetta Scott · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really tried to get into it. I love learning about history especially Black History and finding out new things but, this book totally missed the mark for me. It had a lot more about and her life story than any thing. There was around two-three pages devoted to the women then she’d go off and start a new subject. It just wasn’t for me. I could see if it was just the beginning but it was after every chapter and then it just felt like she trying to recruit me or something. Or if you don’t agree you’re against women this is my opinion after reading.

[Kayla Boss · Rating 5 out of 5]

thank you SO much to @netgalley and @randomhouse for the review copy!

i love what Dr. Jackson did in this book! they look back at the work of Black feminists to provide a framework for how to move forward, towards a just world for everyone. they lift up the voices that are often left out of the conversation, from Ida B. Wells to bell hooks, and examines the work Black feminist leaders engaged in that has laid the foundation for the work today. they show how Black women are minimized and their work erased, but their impact and efforts keep persisting, and how the author was personally impacted in their own revolutionary work by each of the featured women

i highly recommend reading this book and reading more work by all the women featured! Dr. Jackson also blessed us with a reading list at the end. the importance of reading and learning from and uplifting the work of Black women, Black trans women and non-binary folx is essential

[Lulu · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jackson takes several seminal Black Feminist who have influenced her life in one way or another and gives them each their ‘flowers’ in this collection of essays.

The essays include quick biographies of these women and the ways they help shaped the author’s life.

This was an easy, informative read that I strongly recommend.

[Brenda Seefeldt · Rating 3 out of 5]

Too much autobiography and not enough biography of these great women.

[Phyllis | Mocha Drop · Rating 5 out of 5]

In recent years, we’ve witnessed the brilliance of Stacy Abrams, Maxine Waters’ unwavering stamina and perseverance, the political savvy of Kamala Harris, and countless other Black women who move in front of the camera and behind the scenes. This novel reminds us that they stand on the shoulders of great women who demonstrated unmatched courage to step up and speak out. These essays reveal that many were fueled by internal drive, personal experiences, and their inmates talents. They put aside their fears (and some risked their lives) to expose injustice everywhere (social, academic, etc) and embrace activism (in a myriad of creative ways) to evoke the necessary changes for equal rights and social change.

The author’s scholarship, research, and brilliance was on display. I absolutely loved the introduction (echoing the value, fortitude, and wisdom of unsung heroes that surround us in daily life) and her essays on all the featured women (Harriett Jacobs, Ida B. Wells, Audre Lorde, etc). I marveled at their experiences and how the author revealed the foundation,drew parallels and revealed the interconnectedness of their plights and causes. I highlighted so much – this is one I will return to often. Well Done!

Thanks to the publisher, Random House Publishing Group - Ballantine, and NetGalley for an opportunity to review.

[Mary · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you to the publisher and NetGalley for providing this eARC.

In Black Women Taught Us, Jenn Jackson looks back at notable Black feminists and reflects on their work in order to provide a context and framework for the future.

As someone whose education was astonishingly lacking in this section of history, I cannot begin to list the number of things I learned from this book, both in terms of actual historical fact and the thoughtful, nuanced analysis that Jackson provides. Every page of this book, every sentence, is rich and insightful, approachable and valuable. It's rare to find a nonfiction that I can't put down, and this was certainly one of them. In so many ways, this book feels essential, and I hope other readers will glean from it all I did, and more.

[Claudyne Vielot · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a beautiful primer about revolutionary Black women who changed the world and left a deep impact on the author. Each chapter beautifully summarizes the heroine and her accomplishments, as well as the authors journey and the inspiration she drew from these leaders. This is a great read if you know and love women in Black activism, of if you’re new to Black history and want to learn.

[Symone · Rating 5 out of 5]

MUST READ! I borrowed this book from my local library, but I NEED to purchase my own copy to re-read and annotate.

[Ciara Mottier · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great book. Now I have a lot of new people I want to read memoirs about

[Rylee Brock · Rating 5 out of 5]

I can only speak on my experience as someone racialized as white, but this book is amazing. A testament to the struggles, joys, and love of Black women and the ways they deserve that love in kind.

[Cyan Jean · Rating 5 out of 5]

I laughed, I cried, and most importantly I learned so much. This book is both eye opening and humbling and it really makes you sit with your thoughts for many moments. I am so grateful that Dr. Jackson was able to write this beautiful piece to help my continuation with Black Feminist Theory.

[Danielle Nichole · Rating 4 out of 5]

"An Intimate History" is right. The author has so much passion for this subject and it shows.

Read by the author. #booksin25

[Aki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ich habe super viel gelernt.

[Diva Prestia · Rating 5 out of 5]

this black woman definitely taught me. taught me a lot, in fact

what a fantastic book to cap off black history month/begin women’s history month!

you can definitely tell why jenn has a phd with the way this was written. it was so well worded and articulated. this book beautifully combined jenn’s personal experiences with a super interesting history lesson. and again, i hate history! so to get me to be this enthralled in learning the history of, well, anything is hugely admirable. i appreciated how candid jenn was about the ways they could relate and identify with the topics they were covering; the anecdotes they included were perfectly relevant and very illuminating to how someone amongst us experiences these hardships firsthand. i also love the idea of separating this book into chapters that each revolve around a specific black feminist in history that has particularly shaped jenn’s views and work. it helped me really understand them and the foundation of their standpoint on black feminism. jenn is a queer polyamorous androgynous genderflux black woman. they have unfortunately experienced so many different types of marginalization, and i believe this makes them a reliable source of a wealth of knowledge regarding intersectionality. (plus that sentence is just so goddamn woke i love it so much)

some fascinating and/or crucial things this black woman taught me:

jenn condemns the idea of black girls being magic since that mentality can actually be quite harmful in a lot of ways. they say that considering black girls to be magical can result in their struggles being downplayed and undermined due to the idea that they can just magically overcome them. it implies that black girls never actually experience any pain since they are magical, and this can act as justification, whether consciously intentional or not, to consider them in no need of support. rather, jenn denotes black girls as being powerful, and i absolutely love that

jenn touches on why considering oneself an ally can actually be condescending. they stated that labelling themselves as allies involves white people absolving themselves and their racial group of contribution to the issue due to “simply electing themselves as safe places for Black people without doing the work… it lets non-Black people feel as though they are ‘one of the good ones’. rather than being anti-racist, they may simply be non-racist. unfortunately, that isn’t enough.” i think that distinction between anti-racist and non-racist is so paramount. one of these stances is passive and the other is active. one of them allows white people to be complacent while the other involves white people working to challenge the issue and spur forward movement towards improvement. this part made me reflect on my part in all of this and acted as a humbling of sorts; it’s so important that we never become complacent from thinking that having the normal stance of racism being bad without actually doing anything to support those who experience it directly is enough.

jenn explained the true meaning of taking accountability and the steps required to authentically do so. i’ve continued to think about this part of the book since i’ve read it. i want to highlight it because i found it so impactful and enlightening.

they said:

“Accountability is not about public performances of apologies or other symbolic displays of grief. Accountability is about harm acknowledgment, harm reduction, and healing justice. Acknowledging the harm means that we must first be able to tell the truth about what has transpired. Harm reduction refers to the process by which those truths are assessed to identify methods to eradicate or reduce the impacts they have on people who are vulnerable. And healing justice is about taking these lessons and centering the communities that have been harmed, allowing them the space, time, and efficacy to take the lead on solutions.”

this is just a fantastically written definition of genuine accountability. they describe all the necessary steps for accountability to be truly taken. this is vital since meaningful change cannot occur without those who cause the harm recognizing the factual nature of that harm and their part in it, and then vowing to make amends through tangible actions that reduce said harm.

overall, i thought this was a wonderful book by an extremely intelligent black woman. jenn gave a considerable list of book recommendations from other extremely intelligent black women that they have learned from, and i am definitely interested in checking many of those out 🤍

[Beth Peninger · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House for this advanced reader's copy. In exchange, I am providing an honest review.

Drawing from eleven formidable black women who have paved the way in the fight for not just women's rights but black women's rights, Dr. Jackson crafted eleven essays as a self-described love letter to those women and to all black women. The eleven women Jackson chose: Harriet Jacobs, Ida B. Wells, Zora Neale Hurston, Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hamer, Shirley Chisholm, Toni Morrison, The Combahee River Collective, Audre Lorde, Angela Davis, and bell hooks were ones I am dismayed I only had heard of or knew about seven of the 11. My education is lacking and clearly should continue. Jackson begins each chapter featuring the chosen woman and the lesson Jackson has learned and attempted to incorporate into their life, and makes the case for all of us - black or white - to incorporate the lesson as well. The lessons are not just applicable to the fight for feminism but perhaps life in general. The lessons they focus on are: freedom, radical truth-telling, reclamation of our labor (and by our they means black women specifically), why we should listen to young people, unrespectability, holding whiteness accountable, black women are powerful, identity politics, solidarity as self-care, anti-racist abolition, and loving expansively. Dr. Jackson then concluded their essays with a chapter about teaching themselves patience. They also provide other sources of inspiration, acknowledging how difficult it was to pick only 11.

I almost didn't review this title with a rating attached as I don't assign ratings to memoirs and this book toes the line, perhaps even crosses it a bit, into memoir from its category of history/politics. But in the end, I did attach a rating to my review to honor the history and political work Jackson put into the title for not just themselves, but for the reader. While I appreciated every single chapter and formidable woman Jackson drew inspiration from and shared with the reader, I do admit feeling like I lost grasp on the thread Jackson was trying to weave during a couple of the chapters (essays). I couldn't quite follow their line of thinking on the lesson they had learned from the woman but that's why it was the lesson they learned in knowing more about that woman's life and advocacy. Perhaps, if I study that woman on my own I would either understand better why Jackson picked that thread or discover my own lesson. Also, because I do not identify as queer, and because I am not a black woman, I may be unable to understand some of these lessons on the level that Jackson and other black women can and do.

This was a worthy read - worth the time to read it, worth the time to consider it, worth the continued education it provides. I'm very appreciative of the work Dr. Jackson put into this title and for their generosity in sharing it with the world at large. I'm also appreciative of how it contributes to my continuing education in black history.

[Justina · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this more than I expected to! I think this got a really slow start, but I probably feel that way because I struggle with American biographies & histories set before and during the Civil War, which the first chapter focuses on. I kept reading for the promise of biographies on Black women l've been wanting to learn more about, and it paid off. Throughout the rest of the book, the author does an interesting job of weaving personal essays, biographies/histories, and theory together—even refuting racist, misogynist, ableist, and queer-phobic criticisms of "me-search" along the way. There are off-the-beaten-path biographical factoids throughout the book that felt like little prizes you win for listening close ✨ The way they're woven into the narrative of each chapter to help make the author's point is what makes this a 4-star book for me instead of just a 3-star recounting of biographical details.

Tbh the audiobook felt awkwardly narrated at times, but not so much that I had to stop listening. Just needed to multitask to distract myself and focus on the content. And of course there were other times that I wanted to shout, "Say that again!" All that said, it's great to hear a Black woman academic give voice to her own work. Let's have more of that 😊

[Chloe Thompson · Rating 4 out of 5]

The English major in me loved the premise of this book being centered around Black women activists and authors and what Jackson feels their messaging taught her.

My own words couldn't capture how important it is that books like these exist, and that those who are ready to hear the message, read them. I'll end this with a couple of my favorite quotes from the book.

"Listening to Black women requires that we center, engage with, and become challenge by the parts of their teachings and lessons that uproot us the most."

"Accountability is not about public performances of apologies or other symbolic displays of grief. Accountability is about harm acknowledgment, harm reduction, and healing justice."

[Adam Hall · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5⭐️

It’s hard to get me to read the acknowledgments of a book, but i read them in this one. i loved so much of this book, and i especially enjoyed the author’s personal history, experiences, and lessons that they learned. although i wish there was a little more information about the figures in each chapter, i love the analysis of the lessons they impart not just on the author, but the ways they have taught and continue to teach all of us. i want Jenn’s memoir ASAP

[Cass Yarborough · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow. What timeless beauty, vulnerability, strength, and ancestral wisdom that lies throughout the pages of this book! This was not only a lesson, but a love letter to the Black women who have paved pathways with the blood, sweat, and tears for ALL of us...but especially for other Black women and girls. I love how humanized each woman was throughout this book. Not only were they all revolutionary leaders, thinkers, writers, but also human. Each with their own set of fears, dreams, and needs. I also loved how, with reading about these figures, Jenn M. Jackson found a deep sense of familiality, as well as kinship in their relation to blackness, queerness, and womanhood. In return, I was able to learn about myself and how all of who I am is a testament to the resilience of Black women. Also I just want to take a moment and say thank you. Thank you to all these women and the Black women throughout time. Thank you. Thank you to Jenn M. Jackson. Thank you for your own vulnerability as well as telling me that it's okay to take care of myself. It's okay to love who I am. That I'm not made for victimhood, or a scapegoat, saviorhood, or violence. That I deserve to celebrate my blackness outside of pain and whiteness. That I deserve to celebrate all of my complexities, identities, without trying to explain to those outside of it.

[Amber · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh, this is a stunning read. The author has written several essays highlighting various Black women from history and their impact on Black liberation. I like how Dr. Jackson weaves connections and ideas throughout each essay as a standalone, but the book also is magnificent as a whole. This was such a wonderful read—please add this to your collection!

[Yamil Hernández · Rating 5 out of 5]

TLDR: This book feels like a foundational backbone guide to womanism. Dr. Jackson traces how the movement evolves through personal reflection and political practice. While I questioned some conclusions, her arguments about Black feminist praxis shaping our lives and movements was powerful and well articulated.

[Isa · Rating 5 out of 5]

An essential read for all.

[maze · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book. This book!

I want to highlight quotes/talk about my thoughts on chapters of this book. So this might be a long review. Sorry lol

Harriet Jacobs Taught Me About Freedom

"My Freedom can never be contingent upon someone else's unfreedom." As a Mexican American, Queer, AFAB Genderqueer individual, observing our government unleashing ultimate destruction to enact injustice, unfreedom, to my people in the name of justice and freedom to those who "deserve it," I'm becoming increasingly terrified every day. To spread fear in not freedom. To destroy some lives is not freedom. I am not free. You are not free.

Ida B. Wells Taught Me Radical Truth-Telling

"She was courageous in the face of violence and potential harm, and her courage encapsulated what it meant to be afraid and choose to do the right thing anyway." As I said before, I'm terrified. I'm scared and often feel helpless. However, I know where my privilege lies. I know that I am white, female passing, and educated. I need to be concerned about the day-to-day lives and the ways in which systemic oppression shapes our livelihoods, and the lives of Black and Brown Women, Immigrants, Disabled individuals, and other people who are oppressed by this world.

Zora Neale Hurston Taught Me About Reclamation of Our Labor

"Black women would often labor in silence, out of the public eye, and in ways that were frequently overlooked or ignored." I think this is something that I, growing up, didn't observe. I think I had this picture in my head that Black women were superheroes. That you have to be strong and resilient in her position. But I know now how damaging these thoughts can be, and the little attention this ideology has, how dangerous it can be (ex: the risks of childbearing for Black women) to not see Black women as just as vulnerable as any other human.

Ella Baker Taught Me Why We Should Listen to Young People

"It was not only a reminder that I was no longer "young." It was a reminder that I once was and that, when I was young, I was quite powerful. More powerful than I thought I was." I remember being in college and seeing my peers standing up to the fear-mongering, rage-baiting groups of all-white, male community members who opposed the Queer identity on campus. How my peers chanted louder, stronger, and more fearlessly than the men who hated our existence. The college said they had a right to be there. It was a public space. But a space that so many students wanted to feel safe in. Accepted. A friend of mine had said, at the time, that it seemed useless to chant and blast music at the strangers on campus because it just looked "embarrassing." I understand what he was getting at. That maybe this demonstration to show numbers and pride wasn't going to do anything. And in a couple years, Utah government, where my college was located in, would pass laws to further harm queer, trans, and Black, Brown, and Indigenous students at our school. No longer were we allowed to have a space for ourselves. The Center for Diversity and Inclusion was deemed oppressive to the students who felt "othered" by the office. Ironic, I know. My mom would call the fight for a Free Palestine "performative" and that us young people don't understand what we're fighting for. Why not? Why because we fight for the BLM movement and Queer Rights must we be ignorant to the situation just because we were born after its inception? How is that fair? But I know we can't give up. Can't give up on the movements that young people continue to fight for.

Fannie Lou Hamer Taught Me to Be (Un)respectable

"The concept of respectability is usually framed a negative thing. It has been used to ostracize Black working-class and poor people like Fannie Lou Hamer and exclude them from full citizenship and access to life-sustaining resources." Genuinely, so often, it is so obvious that if you do not act in a whiteness, you should not be taken seriously. If you make one mistake, all your work to reach that whiteness, respect, is taken away. You are judged for everything that you are. "This process almost always excludes Black people, immigrants, trans and queer folks, disabled folks, fat people, women with multiple children (especially if those children are suspected to have different fathers), drug users, the chronically ill, those with mental disabilities, and anyone else deemed "other."

Shirley Chisholm Taught Me to Hold Whiteness Accountable

"And living this way in the face of increasing vigilante and police violence against Black people has meant that I am constantly reminded that not only am I not safe or protected, but my children aren't either." I saw someone addressing that the deaths of Renee Good and Alex Pretti as only national, international, news because they are white. He goes on to explain that people only care because there is suddenly a realization that it could be you. The white person who has perhaps acknowledge the deaths of hundreds of Black people, like Treyvon Martin, or learned historically, like of Emmett Till, but are only taking severe action because now it's one of them. Us. I am white. Or at least white passing, but either way. And it's a real point. To hold whiteness accountable is many things. One of which is showing "hey, you only care about this thing because even though police brutality, government overstep, has severely harmed People of Color, specifically Black people, for all of history, it now only matters because it harms you."

Toni Morrison Taught Me That Black Women Are Powerful

"They weren't magical women. They weren't superheroes. They were Black women. That meant they could do literally anything, and it wasn't because of some preordained social order that made it so or some fairy dust granting them superhuman abilities. They could do anything because surviving a cruel, anti-Black, misogynistic world taught them how to harness their innate power. They had to work for it. They had to earn it. But it was theirs." And you know what the funny thing is? It's cool for white people to tell Black women that they are strong superheroes, but to be a Black woman and announce you work hard to survive... she is suddenly "trying to hard." She could never reach real power. Or be as smart, strong, respected as her white female colleagues.

The Combahee River Collective Taught Me About Identity Politics

"These women were intentional about their decision to break away from the mainstream race, gender, and queer movements to pioneer what would later be called "intersectionality." It was from their theorizing that we came to understand that oppressions are interlocking and exist simultaneously for Black women, especially those who are also poor and working class, queer, and trans." Last year I fell in love with Riot Grrrl. Even though I'm not a girl, it was the type of Feminism that I lusted after. Punk, DIY, political activism. And while I was diving into the music scene that upheld this movement, like Bikini Kill, Bratmobile, etc., I sought after books to read too, like Blood and Guts in High School by Kathy Acker. I also read the autobiography of Kathleen Hanna, lead singer of Bikini Kill, Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk. In it, she mentions that though this was a movement she believed in, Riot Grrrl became exclusionary to white women. She said she should've been more attentive at the time of the racist happenings in this fight for feminism, her regret and guilt that followed. Hanna goes on to talk about how we should leave Riot Grrrl in the past. Make a new something of feminism that includes all people. I did research following reading this book and found the word "intersectionality." I immediately put it in my TikTok bio: "Intersectional Feminism = Punk" to show everyone what I was about. But it was only until reading this book, did I know where Intersectionality came from. It's meaning and purpose I have and still align with, but I realize it's very important to know the history of what I'm preaching before I preach it.

Audre Lorde Taught Me About Solidarity as Self-Care

"She was keenly aware of the fact that white people, across gender, had been socialized to "not see" differences like race, gender, sexuality, and ability. Thus, in their not seeing, they would frequently feel challenged and aggressed when these differences were acknowledged. She elaborated that white women feminists had failed to truly grapple with race, class, gender, and the like in social life. For Lorde, white women even those who were well meaning, were key in upholding white supremacy, thus preventing solidarity between white women and Black women." Jackson goes on to talk about "allyship." How allyship is only a whisper next to action. I remember the safety pin symbol. In my circles, it was regarded as a message to trans individuals as a "hey, I'm a safe person to go to if you need to talk or need help/are in danger." I see now there were many meanings to the safety pin. I don't think it's inherently wrong to show support/allyship or even "hey I'm also trans, etc" if it's not immediately obvious. I find safety pins relate a lot to my political identity of being punk. It's important to me. And I can also acknowledge that some instances of allyship are performative. If A-List celebrity is at the Grammy's wearing an "Ice Out" pin, I don't immediately assume they are doing everything in their power to stop the system of oppression. Maybe that makes them "fake," or at least unreliable. I know that at the end of the day, I and others need allyship. But more importantly, myself and others need people of action.

Angela Davis Taught Me to Be an Anti-Racist Abolitionist

"As Davis explains, these murders were an indication that the white supremacist terrorists did not care about Black people's lives, and neither did the people who allowed their actions to become the norm." Back in 2024, while I was working at this K-12 school, I was assigned to assist in a high school English class, during which time they were reading Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You, which I read with them. In the book, it explains the difference between "anti-racist" and "not racist." Not racist being a denial to being racist while allowing inequities to persist. Anti-racist being against racist policies and ideas, and requiring active consistent fight against such things. Furthermore, it talked about how some abolitionists, while opposing slavery, still held assimilationist views. Assimilating to the white American idea of what a person should act, look, sound like, and be. Knowing this, we can see that even though America claims to be anti-slavery and anti-racist, that is clearly not the case. Jackson shows us that the 13th Amendment allows for the loophole to continue the anti-Black existence in the United States. How the prison system, and the system of policing, is just different names for slavery and slave-catching. WE are not in an anti-racist institution. WE are not in an anti-slavery state. WE ask those who are "other" to assimilate, "leave your identity at the door." The capitalist pigs spew out a new line of clothing for Black History Month at Target: "Queen 'Tings," "Dope Black Woman," "Brown Suga," "Pretty Brown 'Ting," "Rootz." They monetize off Black Women and get rid of DEI. "Capitalism is racial capitalism, and I think we need to confront that today and more in the direction of envisioning and hopefully building a socialist society."

bell hooks taught me how to love expansively

"It took me months to face her being gone. Even as I write this, I can't control the emotions. Tears are all that welcome me. I've only been able to go on because I know what love is and what it does. I believe we are still connected and that our love is expansive enough to transcend time, space, and even death." After finishing this chapter, I called my grandma, my dad's mom. I have not seen her in many years. I believe my mom and her had a fraught relationship after my dad died, back in 2008, and I never really got to see her again. I didn't have the means and money as a kid, and then I was in college, trying to start life. Now, being out of college, 25 years old, I wonder where the time went. I called her and listened as she asked me the same question once, twice, three times over. "I'm, you know, 83-84 or something," she says to me. I ask her for her address; I need to see her soon. I'm 25 and my dad, my Tio Mike (one of his brothers), and my grandpa (their dad) have all passed. My mom's dad is getting old. I saw him back in October and he asked me if the floor was moving. All these people in my life and I feel like I'm loosing them all. They may never see my wedding day. Or meet my children, if I should have one. I'm 25 and I feel like I don't have enough time to show them all how much I love them.

I Taught Myself About Patience

"Here are five lessons this process taught me: 1) Sometimes you have to build the world you want to see, 2) Our trauma is not who we are, 3) Scarcity isn't real, 4) There is no time limit on learning, and 5) Black women are always teaching us. We just have to listen." I take these lessons with me, and all that Jackson has helped teach me.

[Elizabeth Dietz · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a combination Black History Month & Women’s History book which I found to be incredibly fascinating as I truly knew nothing about the black feminist movement and those involved in it. It was thought provoking and left me with a lot to think about.

[Rachel · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 I loved the biography sections about women from the civil rights movement

[Sam Riner · Rating 5 out of 5]

A woman who loves her history and her people. The author says it is written as a love letter and I believe it. I'm not sure how to express the importance of this book more than it should be on a required reading list.

[Kelsey Baguinat · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5⭐️