By: Barbara Sheats 

I come from women who carried entire worlds in their hands. 

Who planted hope in broken soil and still watched it stand.


They wore their pain like hidden jewels no one could fully see. 

Yet somehow found the strength to build a future meant for me.

I have felt the weight of being judged before a word was said. 

And carried silent battles that echoed in my head.
 

Still, I rose each morning with purpose in my soul,
Because Black women have a fire that makes the wounded whole.

We are the daughters of survival, the keepers of the flame. 

History may know our struggles, but strength became our name.


When storms arrive uninvited and shadows cloud the day. 

We gather every shattered piece and find another way.

We have cried behind closed doors and smiled out in the sun.

Fighting battles every day that many never see or run.


Yet through the noise of doubt and fear, our spirits still take flight. 

Because our ancestors taught us how to turn darkness into light.

I see the beauty in our laughter and the wisdom in our eyes.

The way we bend beneath the pressure yet continue to rise.


There is poetry within our skin and power in our grace. 

A story of resilience written softly on each face.

To every Black woman reading these words, please understand.

You carry generations of strength within your hands.


You are not defined by hardship, nor by the tears you have known. 

You are a living testament to seeds that have been sown.

Walk boldly in your brilliance and let your spirit bloom. For flowers often grow the strongest in a crowded room.


Your voice is worth the listening, your dreams deserve their place. And nothing in this world can dim the glory of your grace.

I am a Black woman, strong and beautifully made.

 A masterpiece of courage that time cannot degrade.


And when I speak my truth aloud, the world can clearly see. That Black womanhood is power, and that power lives in me.