by Jennifer Roberts

Yes, it’s 2023 and safe spaces for Black people to gather, share, celebrate, commiserate and simply “be” are crucial to our wellness.  As a Black woman, I desire to show up fully every day and see myself reflected in my daily life experiences.  I want to live, work, educate and play in environments in which I can be authentically and unapologetically myself and never have to play small to make someone else feel comfortable.  I want my children to attend schools and engage in extracurricular activities in which they are seen and celebrated, not just tolerated.  Black spaces help make these dreams a reality.

Over the past 70 years, some Black people have opted to integrate into neighborhoods, schools and places of employment to secure more equitable resources for themselves and their families.  While economic advancement may have been gained, what may been was lost by some was the connection to businesses, interactions, relationships and educational opportunities that support Black people.  Since Black people are dispersed throughout the wider landscape of America, we must be vigilant and intentional about identifying and patronizing Black businesses, organizations experiences.  Some people will argue that Black people can join a church or Jack and Jill.  I counter with, “I want more.”

Earlier this summer,  I enrolled my son in a basketball camp that I handpicked because of its location and potential racial demographics.  It was my hope that he would have some Black coaches and some Black team mates because that usually is not the case.  I gladly drove an hour and twenty minutes round trip for him to participate in an activity that he loves so that he could interact with other Black people. 

Likewise, last year, a fellow mom, who has since become a friend, told me about a dance studio two counties over that supports Black dancers.  Whenever I share with people where my daughter dances, they usually respond with, “That’s far.  You drive way over there.” My answer is, “Yes.”   I happily drive my daughter three days a week for the priceless experience and exposure to love and community that she gets from her dance classes and the instructors who are teaching them.

It remains vital to create and support spaces that are founded by, run by and patronized by Black people.  Just like other community members deserve spaces that meet their individual and collective needs, Black people need spaces that recognize and respond to our humanity and provide soft places for us to land.

I spend a great deal of time reading about different types of business and organizations.  I enjoy doing the research, visiting different places and sharing my findings with my community.  I’ve found that whatever audience my mind can imagine, there is a business or affinity group that supports it.  From health care to hair care and from food to fashion, there are long standing businesses and budding entrepreneurs who have identified a niche and are filling a need.  As many businesses as I observe, what I don’t see is robust resistance to this businesses from community members BUT when it comes to the conversation about intentionally creating spaces for Black people, eyebrows begin to raise and questions fly.

“Why do Black people need schools for Black students?”  “Why do Black students need Black teachers?  It shouldn’t make a difference what color the teacher is if the teacher is qualified.”  “Why can’t Black people just buy coffee and books where everybody else buys coffee and buys books?”  “Why does my child’s high school have a Black Student Union?  There’s no White Student Union.” 

I wonder if people ask these questions because they really don’t understand why spaces for Black people are necessary or because they are concerned about what Black people might be doing in these spaces.  I wonder if curating spaces for Black people makes people (even other Black people) feel uncomfortable because it reminds them of segregation or maybe they feel left out.  I don’t know what people think. These are conversations I’d love to have with members of our community.

Curating Black spaces is not about excluding White people (or anyone else for that matter); it’s about prioritizing Black people and nurturing our experience.  It is not enough to allow Black people admittance into spaces (which is what integration did by law even though social discrimination persists); there must be relevant, equitable options when we arrive that consider and respond to our experience and the cultural capital that we bring. And who better to erect these spaces than us?

Sadly, we live in a country that still refuses to reconcile and rectify the centuries of atrocities committed against Black people AND make conscientious choices to stop the modern-day assaults. 

The origin story and subsequent experience of Black people in the United States is far different than any other race or ethnicity that calls America home no matter how gatekeepers try to spin it.  We should never be discounted, disregarded or homogenized.  We were forced to come to this country in bondage, stripped of our heritage, denied education, denied citizenship, enslaved for 245 years, oppressed by Jim Crow for another 100 years, incarcerated in a modern-day slavery system and continue to be marginalized 404 years later.  It’s a miracle that we have survived at all. 

Black people need safe spaces to process and digest shared triumphs like the appointment of Justice Ketanji Brown-Jackson and share grief in dark times like the shooting of 16-year-old Ralph Yarl earlier this year or the racially motivated massacre last May at Tops Friendly Markets supermarket in Buffalo, which left 10 Black people dead.  Black people need unburdened spaces to listen, talk, dream and uplift one another so that we can show up more confident in a country that was created for our exploitation not our excellence.   Virtually every space and system in America is designed with Whiteness in mind and from a European perspective.  Black people deserve the same consideration.

There is always room for allies and accomplices, that’s how we build strong communities, however this networking is not in the absence of Black spaces.  Perhaps if our country and our world were more unified and equitable, there would be less need for these sacred places but that is not the case.  I don’t know if this will change in my lifetime.  So, until such a time, we must recognize that no one is coming to save or celebrate us.  We do this important work ourselves.  We must keep building, investing in and supporting Black spaces. 

(Jennifer Roberts is a local Prince William County resident and founder of Conversations In the Community.)