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A Black Woman Speaks…Of White Womanhood Of White Supremacy Of Peace

 By Beah Richards

It is right that I a woman


should speak of white womanhood.

My fathers

my brothers

my husbands

my sons

die for it; because of it.

And their blood chilled in electric chairs,

stopped by hangman’s noose,

cooked by lynch mobs’ fire,

spilled by white supremacist mad desire to kill for profit,

gives me that right.

I would that I could speak of white womanhood

as it will and should be

when it stands tall in full equality.

But then, womanhood will be womanhood

void of color and of class,

and all necessity for my speaking thus will be past.

Gladly past.

But now, since ‘tis deemed a thing apart


I must in searching honesty report

how it seems to me.

White womanhood stands in bloodied skirt

and willing slavery

reaching out adulterous hand

killing mine and crushing me.

What then is this superior thing

that in order to be sustained must needs feed upon my flesh?

How came this horror to be?

For the full poem visit here.