This season has weighed heavily on many of us, especially as we watch an exceptionally qualified and experienced woman of color, the current Vice President, come up short in her pursuit of leadership. She was more qualified than any sitting president before her, having served in all branches of government. Yet, her contender—a person with a history of questionable judgment, business failures, criminal history, and character flaws—was lauded as a preferable choice. This moment is about more than a simple election outcome; wins and losses are a natural part of life. It’s the response, though—the unfiltered opinions from those unofficial commentators—that reveals a deeper and more disheartening reality. Hearing claims that she "wasn’t qualified" or "isn’t a leader" reminds us of the entrenched biases that high-achieving Black women continue to face. Despite undeniable credentials and experience, these dismissive statements expose a reluctance to fully acknowledge our capabilities, even when we’ve more than proven our worth. The message is unmistakable and disheartening. Despite our hard work, excellence, and undeniable contributions, society often places limits on how far we are permitted to go.
For many of us, success has been an uphill journey paved with resilience, grit, and a relentless pursuit of our dreams. We were raised on the values of hard work, dedication, and the belief that if we just gave enough of ourselves, we could achieve anything. Many of us have earned degrees and acquired the experience that should make our voices not just heard but respected. Yet, when we witness such blatant underestimation of Black women’s capabilities, the reality stings: progress is not where we thought it would be. We see it in the workplace, in politics, in our faith communities, and it resonates as a collective experience that tells us, "Only so far, and no further."
The frustration is compounded by knowing that Black women have continually carried the weight for others, advocating for everyone’s cause without complaint, often at the expense of our own. We’ve championed diversity, equity, and inclusion long before these terms were widely embraced. We’ve paved the way for disenfranchised groups across every sector, opening doors without expecting anything in return. And yet, our own fight for equality and representation remains. The feedback we hear is often the same—"she wasn’t qualified," or "she’s not a leader"—statements rooted in bias, not truth, dismissing the credentials that we know were hard-earned and well-deserved.
The pressure can feel overwhelming. We are more than leaders; we are mothers, sisters, aunties, and mentors. We are community advocates, upholding values of resilience and strength that are passed down to the next generation. The world offers us little sympathy, yet we don’t have the luxury of breaking down because so many depend on us. In these moments, it would be easy to give up, but for many of us, our faith sustains us. The words of scripture remind us that "this world is not our final home" (Hebrews 13:14), and "we are citizens of heaven" (Philippians 3:20). Our journey here, though filled with trials, has purpose, for "we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him" (Romans 8:28).
If it weren’t for our faith, we would have lost it long ago. It is our unshakeable faith that has allowed us to survive some of the most unsavory times in history, from oppression to exclusion and beyond. We stand firm, knowing that "those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength" (Isaiah 40:31), and "when we walk through the waters, He will be with us" (Isaiah 43:2). This enduring faith not only keeps us moving forward but serves as a powerful reminder that we are part of a legacy greater than ourselves.
This message is for my sisters, the high-achieving Black women who press on despite the weight of being misunderstood or underestimated. How are you doing? How do you continue to persevere when it feels like the odds are stacked? Let’s hold each other up, take strength from our faith, and remember the resilience of those who came before us. We are here not just for ourselves but for everyone who looks to us as pillars of strength.
Let’s keep moving forward, lifting each other as we go, knowing that our worth is not diminished by the biases of others. We carry a legacy within us, and with every step, we pave the way for those who will come after. So, let’s rise—because we have no other choice. We are more than capable. We are resilient. And together, we will continue to rise.
Thank you for this word of encouragement. Very well said and a reminder of who we are and whose we are.
Thank you for the encouragement. I was saddened, but not surprised. After reading CASTE by Isabel Wilkerson, I was left with a profound understanding of the mindset of Americans. It offered no solutions to the problem, but it explained the perplexity of the American caste system that makes Americans constantly put people in power who work AGAINST their best interests.
Well said Sis!! The outcome was very disappointing, but still we rise!!