Ladies, can we talk about how much stress is placed on black women in the work place? I’ll go first. A younger teacher assumed that I was a paraprofessional because I am black. There are quite a few that work at this Latin school.  She asked me if I was qualified to be a proctor. I asked her what was required…she responded that a an undergraduate degree was needed. I said, “Well, I have a B.S. in Elementary Ed with TESOL Endorsement, and a Master of Science in Reading with four certifications…..will that suffice?”……for some strange reason, she fell silent. Now, she speaks to me in the hallway. That interaction has remained on my mind for years.  I don’t like her.

Chapter 2: My eyes froze at the site of an inappropriate email that was sent to me from a business associate. Apparently, in his mind, I was suddenly a piece of meat for him to have his way with.  After moments of processing, I realized that I was probably one of several women that encountered such a disgusting encounter with this individual.  However, I was probably one of the few that checked him on his utter bullshit.  I blocked him across all of social media after informing him that he was completely out of line and absolutely gross.  His apology did little to appease me.

Both of these examples crossed my mind as I watched this wonderful individual face a den of lions with such grace.  There is truly something about this woman that is pure fire.  It is a slow quiet burn that unfolds before our very eyes.  I wish her well with a visual hug all the way from the southern part of America.

So, the question is, where is the safe space for a black woman to just exist and be?  Where can we go to be free from all of the isms and constant judgment?  Does this safe space exist?