Melissa,
I feel you on this one. Whether it’s coming from Nietzsche, Kanye, or
everyday people, I’m always uncomfortable with the idea that mere
survival certifies strength. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the ways
in which Black people have always remained buoyant in the midst of
absurdity. Still, like you, I worry that our celebration of very
particular conceptions of strength has come at our own peril.
I’m particularly irked by our academic colleagues who marvel at Black
“resistance” and “resilience” in the face of white supremacy,
capitalism, and patriarchy. While it’s useful to acknowledge that
Black people have never merely capitulated to oppressive forces, an
exclusive focus on our reaction to suffering keeps us in a perennially
defensive posture. Instead of developing concrete strategies for
changing the world, we exhaust considerable intellectual energy
locating “protective factors” and “symbolic resistance.”
I also worry that Black men and women have been taught to adopt very
gendered (and problematic) ways of thinking about strength. I can’t
tell you how many times a woman has told me that she stayed with a
cheating or physically abusive man because she needed to “stay strong”
for her family. I’m always saddened to see a young boy being told to
stop crying and “be strong” for the women in his life. This
type of logic has serious implications for our psychological and
physical wellbeing.
We have to find new ways of being strong.
Marc Lamont Hill is Assistant Professor of Urban Education and American Studies at Temple University.