I get it. Y’all have been through A LOT. Y’all have been oppressed, suppressed, and depressed. Y’all have been objectified. Y’all have been silenced. Y’all have been overlooked. Y’all have been mistreated. 

BUT Y’ALL HAVE SURVIVED.

Y’all have become doctors, mothers, lawyers, CEO’s, survivors, scientists, educators, lurkers, dancers, twerkers, singers, and hustlers. Y’ALL DID THIS. Y’all paved the way for Black women to dream, to become social media influencers, activists, entrepreneurs, disrupters, shot callers, and rule breakers. Y’ALL DID THIS. While facing white supremacy and racism, y’all found a way not only to simply exist but to persist for US and we thank Y’ALL!

But now I need y’all to listen.

I’m not sure if you’re aware but some of y’all perspectives have shifted. Y’all are not as optimistic as you once were. Your hands don’t lift as high during protests (if y’all attend at all, no judgement just saying). Your belief in white people has been annihilated. AND Y’ALL ARE TIRED. 

I get it.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you so much, and I wish it was different. I wish you had better. I wish you didn’t have to fight as hard as you did. I wish you were recognized as the amazing Black queen that you are. The Black woman in me wishes I could have traded places with you, so YOU wouldn’t have had it so hard. I’m sorry, I see your pain. I see your trauma. I see your history. I see your legacy. I see your journey. 

I need you to see mine.

I was raised by y’all. I grew up listening to your stories. I grew up vicariously experiencing both sexism and racism through you. I watched you get passed up for promotions and take low wage jobs so we could eat. I watched you educate yourself in the evenings so I could dream. I saw you cry about being the only Black person in the room. I heard you rant about your boss stealing your ideas. 

I watched you persist anyway.

I watched you exist in spaces that were never meant for you. I saw you create programs to increase representation. I counted the hours you spent sitting on diversity panels and giving seminars. I read the papers you published on your experiences and watched the webinars you gave on diversity and inclusion. 

I also walked in a room for the first time as Dr. Moore and was asked if I was there to help with the set up. I have also been the only Black person in the room for YEARS. I have also been called “nigger” in 2020. I have also been silenced. I have also been oppressed. I am also fighting for my life. 

I need HELP.

So, I ask. I go to your website or dm or email to request a friendly chat with my auntie because I have reached the point you reached years before me and I AM DISTRAUGHT. So, I turn to my STEM aunties. The ones who paved the way for me to exist. The ones whose back I stand on and yet I’m met with:

Me: hey!! Can you give me advice to change the cultural climate for Black women in STEM?? I know you have worked on this a lot and I just want to know how I can add/help in my particular area.

Auntie: 

Yeah, you’re not going to be able to change anything. You should focus on being a professor instead.

Me: But I don’t want to be a professor.

Auntie: 

Hmm you should ask someone else for advice 

Me:

[Message from group email]: WE HAVE DEVELOPED A DIVERSITY COMMITTEE!!

Me: I’m optimistic and will hold these folxs accountable 

Auntie: IF Y’ALL THINK STUFF GONNA CHANGE I HAVE LAND IN ALABAMA I CAN SELL YOU

Me:

I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m overwhelmed. I’m depressed. I’m distraught. I followed in your footsteps because you paved the way. But I got here and it’s toxic. It’s stuffy. I want to quit daily. When I finally got to the life-shattering question, do I just leave, forget everything I worked to get a PhD for, and just go do something else?? I thought, I pondered, talked to my friends, my therapist, and my heart. And decided, what if I created something that could actually cause change. What if I could make a difference, so I created A WOC Space!

Of course, because I’m respectful I asked for my aunties opinions and you saw them above. Here I was trying to save myself and my own aunties didn’t believe I could do it. My own aunties rejected my idea and claimed it wasn’t enough to make substantial change. They cited the decades of unchanged white people and told me the only way to make a difference was to start from the top. But you can’t do that without tenure, and even then, it will be hard...

Since then, as we know, I continued with the creation of A WOC Space and have seen the rise of other orgs started by young people of color to address community needs and WE ARE GETTING TRACTION!!

Now I’m seeing the same aunties making comments like #WeBeenHere, #PersonalExperienceIsNotEnough, and #WeCreatedHashtagsFirst 

ENOUGH!

We aren’t saying what you did wasn’t enough, y’all paved the road!! We are saying that we need MORE and there is space for us ALL. We never wanted to replace or outdo you, all we want is for ALL of our voices to be included. I was devastated the day I realized that my PhD wasn’t enough to secure my seat at the table, and now I want to make sure no other Black woman has that sinking experience. So, can’t we all just get along, Auntie, because together we can be great!