The Black Woman Body Experience: “How May I Be of Service?”

Objectification: “the action of degrading someone to the status of a mere object."

Big baby, thick-thick, soup-coolers, and big booty Judy is just a number of labels African-American woman have been reduced to in an attempt to sum up her parts to pleasure the patriarchal gaze. Being a double minority in America infringes on the very womanhood of women of color. Many may blame pop culture for popularizing these ideologies but this is embedded into the core of our society – dehumanizing blackness as chattel and the continued domestication of women as rite of passage.

Though certain circumstances may have changed, the reality remains the same. “Black womanhood” is measured by three archetypes: the sexy jezebel, the mammy, and the mad black woman. If you’re lucky you’ll be considered all (smh). You can be praised for your overt sexuality and condemned for your lack of cooking and cleaning skills as a woman. At the same instance, you can be celebrated for an executive level promotion but your leadership style is perceived as aggressive or sassy in the workplace.

As far as I can remember, people have been very aware of my body, the curves and especially my butt. I can remember my Haitian neighbor’s mom telling me to “desane deye ou”, in layman terms, “hide your backside” as much as possible. Then in middle school, it was the boys calling me thick or big booty or trying to use their “x-ray vision” to see my curves through the long jean skirts my Mom had me wear. Yes, my mother made it a point that I dress like I was covered in the blood of Jesus. All these compliments on my body, had me questioning if I was even pretty – I knew I was attractive but the disparaging number of compliments of my growing body made me forget about the comments on my facial beauty.

I always knew I was desirable because my curves magnetically attracted all the eyes in the room. Over the years, I’ve loved and hated the attention. Brown and Black bodies have been a form of currency of labor, pleasure, and pain for centuries. The black woman body experience is repetitively one dimensional in the nature of how our body is viewed or used as desirable tools for an explicit egotistic agenda, it is an unprotected natural resource that is durable and strong. This idea is continuously practiced by the medical community, which refuses to recognize the ailments of black women in the belief we have a high tolerance for pain. Our humanity is lost and many times our lives, given the mortality rate amongst black mothers when giving birth. “What in us objectifies black bodies?” – Sonya Renee Taylor.

We are either women with superhero-like strength or hips, ass, and titts. Black women have been deprived of the feminine experience of being celebrated, nurtured, and protected by society. Instead the media teaches women to barter their bodies for affection and love. The presentation of my physical desirability brought me closer to the privileges or lifestyle I desired. But it did not bring me closer to understanding my self-worth, nourish my essence and energy, or teach me the importance of protecting and replenishing my being. Know this, I am real and I am human and there is beauty and strength in my vulnerability. There is power in seeking help and community from my sisters, unrelated and related. I am not magic but I am resilient, life has taught to persevere and be consistent in defining my womanhood.

---