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Who Are We?

by Nicole Crawford
written by Nicole Crawford

When asked who we are, as writers, creators, photographers, organizers, lovers, and members of this community, we turn back to you and say, “We are but your mere reflections”.

This is a love letter to the pan-Afrikan Diasporic community that we serve.

Thank you, for believing in us, for reading our work, for critiquing and building and grieving with us. Our writing is nothing without you and your perspectives. We have released our first physical magazine of the school year, the Fall ’23 print of NOMMO, the 55th Anniversary Edition of the legacies we humbly attempt to carry, but one thing has become overwhelmingly clear in this process, without your perspectives, without the diverse presence of the Afrikan mind within our pages, our magazine will cease to hold its meaning. So, we thank you for trusting us to share your perspectives, to honor you, to challenge you, to reflect you on our pages. We hope to be given the opportunity to share more of your stories in our magazine in the nearest of futures.

Until then, know that you are so deeply loved and appreciated by us all. Keep shining, keep expanding, keep growing, and building the world in which our future generations will live. We love you all dearly.

All Power to the People,

NOMMO Newsmagazine Team

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NewsOpinionWorld

Comfort Kills, and We are Dying Slowly

by Nicole Crawford
written by Nicole Crawford

In the last month, the global black and brown indigenous communities have been waking up to how western hegemony, capitalism, imperialism, and colonialism are ruining all of our lives. Furthermore, the indisputable fact that all of our lives and struggles are interconnected and interdependent became crystal clear, whether we have been occupying the lands of Turtle Island and fighting against the oppressive police state and hyper-surveillance, or fighting against settler-colonialism and exploitation in Haiti and Palestine. Our minds and souls have begun the long and painful process of unlearning colonial truths and two things have become unquestionable to those who have been searching for answers to these problems: first, we (black and brown indigenous peoples of the world) are at war no matter where we are in the world, and second, our enemy is the same. However, with significant leverage, some could argue that this truth is not one that our comrades within the Global South could afford to ignore and that those living in Nigeria, Haiti, Sudan, Syria, and Palestine have been violently exposed to the reality of this world for decades if not centuries. This leaves one pivotal question: if the majority of the pan-Afrikan diasporic and black and brown indigenous communities of the globe are conscious and principled in their struggle against the western capitalist empire, how have those in the west, who are part of these global communities, failed to realize the dangers we all face until now? Why is it only when the traumas of our brothers and sisters are so hyper-sensationalized in the media that we can no longer ignore it that we choose to act or begin to question the fallacies and propaganda we consume daily? Why does it take publicisation of an ethnic cleansing and active genocide that has been ongoing for decades for us to feel the need to act? I will provide a simple answer: we who live in the west are too comfortable. 

The problem is that those in the west have grown to be absent-minded and the curiosities that allow us to imagine a different world have dissipated as a result of our constant exposure to propaganda. You would assume that those who live within the belly of the beast would be able to recognize that we are not at war with some hungry dog that simply needs to be fed and coddled in order to make our existence tolerable, but that this beast has an insatiable appetite for violence and capital, so no matter how much it is fed, it will always desire to swallow us whole. But the propaganda of american exceptionalism tells us that we are different, that our systems cannot be abolished as they are the pillars upon which the rest of the world stands, and that reform is the only tangible solution as abolition is not only “too radical” but also “unrealistic”. To those who have yet to wake up to the dangers we face, I scream “WE CANNOT REFORM OUR WAY OUT OF OPPRESSION”. The principle of reform allows the institutions that uphold racism, capitalism, xenophobia, and imperialism to exist in the hopes of bending global elites to the will of our desires. It requires pandering to soulless entities in the hopes of swaying them into humanizing us, completely ignoring the fact that our systems are not “broken” but in fact working so well that we have begun to cosign our own demise. But Assata Shakur says it best, “only a fool lets somebody else tell him who his enemy is” and more importantly “nobody in history, has ever gotten their freedom by appealing to the moral sense of the people who were oppressing them”. 

We are too close to the problem to admit that we benefit from it and are, in fact, part of said problem. The process of returning to indigenous ways of knowing and restoring our understanding and connections to our histories is one of uncomfortable introspection. We first must become disgusted with ourselves and our compliance with the dehumanization of those around us to begin to see our struggles through an internationalist lens. Most are simply unwilling to admit this. Most refuse to face themselves and that there is no grey area here, there is no compromise. Most refuse to acknowledge that you cannot vote your way into and out of freedom, that these systems are designed to fail us, and that we are only setting our immediate and international communities back by continuing to partake in the charade that is the amerikkkan political arena. It is our responsibility to become uncomfortable with the privileges that we have been given. The privilege that tells us that when we are “overwhelmed” by the truth we can look away, and that thoughts and prayers are enough to keep our comrades safe. Nothing we have done thus far has been enough, nothing we have done thus far has worked. The last two weeks of Palestinian resistance have made this abundantly clear, just as it was in 2020 when we watched the public lynching of George Floyd and again when we protested the war in Afghanistan that was funded by our taxes. Active genocides are being committed against Palestinians and the Congolese on the dime of both those who voted for Biden as a democratic savior and “lesser of two evils” and those who voted for Trump in the years prior. Understand clearly that no matter who is ruling the empire, the fascist and white supremacist regime will always value capital over the lives of black and brown people. Therefore, by virtue of our existence in the belly of the beast, we are complicit in its crimes against humanity. There is no amount of think pieces, community healing circles, reading, or civic action that can be done to rectify the harm caused by our presence here. The sooner that we realize this, the sooner we can take real action toward dismantling the systems of oppression that keep us stagnant. But as long as we are comfortable, and as long as our love of comfort holds more weight than our love for humanity, we will continue to treat our one good deed a year as a confessional that wipes our conscience clean while we still label those who can’t afford the comforts we have stolen as dope fiends. Be wary of the fingers you point to those around you, as the greatest addictions we must break are those to our comforts that enable the dissociation and apathy we fall into. Understand that dissociation and apathy are of the most cruel responses to death and ask yourself: do our martyrs not deserve to know your heart, to feel your grief that affirms your love for their humanity? Dissociation and apathy do not absolve you of your compliance in the evils we see, they make you a coward. Be brave enough to feel deeply. Be brave enough to fight against the habitual comforts we seek when we are met with the truth. Be brave enough to love and to grieve. 

We must change the ways in which we navigate this world and understand that of everyone who exists on this planet, we are the most responsible for the tragedies and devilry we have seen unfolding in the Middle East, the Caribbean, in Panama, and on the continent of Afrika. It is only in accepting our compliance and responsibility that we can then transmute the shame and guilt that comes with this into tangible steps towards the total liberation and autonomy of all black and brown indigenous peoples around the globe. 

As a final note, I will leave all who read this with a reminder of the importance of honoring our ancestors as we engage in collective struggle:

We cannot know where we are going and who we are to become if we do not know who and where we have come from, a principle of Sankofa. Our struggles have remained the same for centuries, it is only in acceptance of this: our common enemy, our divine love that transcends generations and gives us strength to move through the darkness of this world as the epitome of light, that we can set ourselves and our comrades free. The most important thing you can do in this fight is to first decolonize your mind, all other impactful actions will naturally follow. Practice without theory is reckless and dangerous and theory without practice makes you nothing more than an egotistical mouthpiece.  

Without this understanding, we fall back into complacency, and the evils of the western fascist empires begin to surprise us and we succumb to a grief so heavy that we can no longer think or act. Your mind is the tool that allows you to feel grief and transcend this into action. I urge you to your internal gardens, know and feel deeply that you have never been alone, that we are all connected and therefore we have to fight, we have to speak, we have to act. This is so much bigger than any of us alone. and we will remain protected as long as we know who we are.

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LifestyleOpinionU.S.

The Good, The Bad, and The White Moderate

by Bionca Benard
written by Bionca Benard

Martin Luther King Jr. Day has just recently passed and it is my least favorite thing in the world to see white people post these pretty quotes: 

“Darkness can not drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” 

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.”

“Faith is taking the first step even when you don’t see the whole staircase.

I hate all of these quotes, no matter how inspiring they all, no matter how thoughtful they may be. Think of these posts like the black squares everyone was posting during the summer of 2020. They gave us nothing and did nothing. But still, they reposted, with the hashtags on their blacked-out posts. So many in fact, that they began to drown out the actual informative posts that were telling protestors about resources and updates on the Black Lives Matter movement. The MLK Jr. quotes and the Black-Out Tuesday posts were like the participation trophies they give to the bench players. They did nothing, but here they are expecting something.

“Out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope.”

Oh, brother…

The only quote I enjoyed to see from Dr. King was this one: “I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice” (Brown). 

It seems even Dr. King recognized the white moderate will always be a hindrance than an ally to Black people in America. The understanding that actual allyship involves more than just posts and not saying the n-word around their Black friends can take white people a long way. (If they’re actually willing of course.) If you consider yourself white and moderate, consider the following: 

  1. Don’t be moderate: There is no neutrality in the face of racism. You are on one side or you’re not. You either stand against the hatred or watch it unfold from the safety of your privilege. You can not be a bystander to the vicious onslaught your Black peers face if you are indeed anti-racist. 

Think of neutrality in the terms of war to make it easier (that’s something white people know well). WWI saw the US take a neutral stance during the feuding years. Woodrow Wilson believed in following the strict foreign policy: no alliances with foreign countries. This was, you know, a good idea, but not actually easy to execute because of the US alliances with Britain and France. 

Where’s the neutrality? You’re still friends with racists even if you’re not doing the racist deeds. White moderates are choosing to live in a bubble of security at the expense of Black people’s lives. The white flag you raise is covered in blood… 

The good, the bad, and white moderate… As a white person, where do you actually want to stand?  

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Protester holding a sign. Sign reads "Black Lesbian Feminist"
CultureLGBTQ+LifestyleOpinionWorld

The Black Sapphic

by Leilani Fu’Qua
written by Leilani Fu’Qua

Women are traditionally and fundamentally underrepresented, underappreciated, and devalued in societal relationships. For Black women, this is amplified with Black men’s allegiance to heterosexism, misogynoir, and any claim to the privileges of the patriarchy they cling to, adding another level to the subordination of Black women. Lesbianism, and Black lesbianism specifically, has operated as a silent phenomenon within the Black community, out of fear of threatening Black nationhood and unity. The surge in women’s public allegiance to protecting, supporting and loving Black women has created a new phenomenon which serves a function of modern social identity as we move towards dismantling male supremacy. 

Sapphism, otherwise known as lesbianism, refers to the romantic and sexual attraction between women. While traditionally used only in reference to romantic relationships, I will use the term “Black sapphic” and “Black sapphism” to refer to a Black woman who divests from their allegiances to patriarchy, heterosexism, misogyny, and men to create meaningful, mutual, and reciprocal relationships with women through familial, romantic and/or platonic relationships with each other. When we view our relationships with Black women as active efforts to appreciate, protect, support and love them, we actively resist the constraints placed upon women by patriarchal societal structures and male-serving institutions. 

The Black community traditionally operates under a silent matriarchy: a network of women-bonded women and lesbian women providing support and sustaining the Black family structure from “behind the scenes.” Black women as mothers, aunties, friendly neighbors, lovers, and caregivers actively support each other by providing caregiving assistance, protection from violence caused by men, emotional labor, and social education for their community. A lot of Black youth are raised “by the village,” but rarely reflect on and appreciate the impact of Black women-bonded women. We rely on these women for emotional stability, sustenance, care and expect them to shape our perceptions of femininity and womanhood. The absence of a mother figure is controversial in our community, but their presence is rarely celebrated and even overlooked as standard. As the Black family structure changes and divests from the nuclear, heteronormative family, Black sapphism challenges the dependency on patriarchy as the basis of familial relationships. When the opioid/heroin epidemic ravaged through Black, low-income communities, Black grandmothers became the most likely demographic to raise their grandchildren, despite the lack of resources available to them from government entities. In instances like this, we turn to our village. We ask for support, love, and caregiving assistance from the women around us. Unfortunately, regardless of the monumental impact Black women have on our communities, our allegiance to upholding patriarchal values alters the experiences of Black womanhood. Often out of fear, isolation, and instability, we view women-bonded relationships and lesbianism as a threat to Black nationhood (which rests on upholding the institution of patriarchy and heterosexism), as mentioned in Audre Lorde’s “Sister Outsider.” As modern Black women reshape our ideas of liberation, family, and choice, we adopt the ethic and efforts of women-bonded women before us and take further steps to cherish their work. 

The platonic social network of Black women is an oasis for Black sapphism. Aside from romantically, communities of Black women rely on each other to discuss the nuanced experiences of their identity that only other Black women can relate to. Additionally, these experiences overlap as these cohorts serve as support groups for family struggles, career difficulties or accomplishments, relationship advice and social relief. Nonetheless, being in the physical presence of women can birthe a sense of belonging, comfort, and familiarity that allows women to prosper with each other. The love we elicit from platonic relationships can be as influential and cathartic as familial or romantic love, especially if the romantic and familial relationships are a point of concern or unease in a person’s life. Black sapphism allows for mutual, meaningful, and reciprocal allegiances to women to occur even non-romantically. Audre Lorde’s Sister Outsider describes this active effort to decenter men as a reorganization of social relationships, which traditionally places men above women. Lorde states, “Women identified women who are no longer dependent upon men for their self-definition may well reorder our whole concept of social relationships.” When women divest from their own subjugation through the commitment to placing themselves and other women above the interests of men, they divest from heteronormative and male-serving social scripts. In her essay Lesbianism as Resistance, Black lesbian feminist author Cheryl Clarke states, “If radical lesbian-feminism purports an anti-racist, anti-classist, anti-woman hating vision of bonding as mutual, reciprocal, as infinetely negotiable, as freedom from antiquated gender prescriptions, then all people struggling to transform the character of relationships in this culture have something to learn from lesbians.” 

Romantic relationships between women, and especially Black women, get little to no screen time in modern media. However, the romantic aspect of women bonded relationships adds an additional dimension to the commitment to decenter men and divest from the patriarchy. Clarke states, “The Black woman, having neither maleness or whiteness, has always had her heterosexuality, which white men and black men have manipulated by force and at will,” emphasizing the act of resistance that is being a Black lesbian (sexually and romantically). The commitment to loving women is not out of spite for men, but for the improvement of women’s lives in all aspects. Lesbianism allows for compassion to understand the nuances of femininity in addition to actively resisting misogynist, capitalist, and male-supremacist social constructions. Clarke describes this as a “potential for mutuality” in her relationship, as the lesbian has decolonized her body and rejected servitude to men. For Black women, romantic relationships with each other allows for gender and cultural mutuality. A lover who understands and resonates with the extent of your oppression, oppression that is triple-bound to sexuality, gender, and race, is a lover who can care for and empathize with these struggles as she faces them herself. The subtleties of the Black experience, like hair care, colloquialisms, cultural recipes, political opinions, fashion and music are shared phenomena for Black lesbians: rather than existing as teachable moments, these subtleties exist as commonplace. With partners of any cultural background, lesbian relationships encapsulate platonic, maternal, romantic and sexual energy that contributes to the liberation of women from male-centered structures and institutions. 

Black sapphism is an occurrence of the modern Black identity. Black women around the globe continue to struggle for their freedom and turn to each other for solace, collaboration, and love. As we combat sexual slavery, child labor, lynchings of Black transwomen, violence against women, misogyny, male-supremacy, capitalism, and imperialism, the works and writings of Black women guide the rest of the world to a clearer vision of liberation. When we work together, celebrate together, fight together, and love together, dreams of progress move towards visions of reality. 

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CultureLifestyleOpinion

Offended By My Sex Appeal

by Kamea Taylor
written by Kamea Taylor

For generations, the conversation of sex within the Black community has become uncomfortable or overwhelmed with misconceptions and misinformation. The most sensitive subject within such dialogue is often the sexual experiences and sexual health of Black women. From sex work to romantic partners, Black women’s bodies are seen as commodities to be consumed yet are simultaneously devalued and shamed for hypersexuality and sexual expressiveness. The perspective of Black sexuality is seen through the lens of heterosexual cis-gendered men, explaining the over-sexualization and deprivation of Black women for having the same sexual desires that they are excused for. 

Research also contributes to the portrayal of Black women as sexually available or engaging in sexual risk-taking behaviors rather than sexually autonomous or sexually responsible. Instead of educating women about their bodies, Black women are overwhelmed with the emphasis on prevention instead of pleasure. An example of this is the plethora of sexual research about Black women and their sexual health. These statistics that often show consistently high rates of sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) and unintended pregnancy, yet not enough conversation about the healthy aspects of sex, let alone sex health concerning the female genitalia. Such dedication to this kind of research discourages Black women. It makes them more sexually conscious of those risks, health disparities between Black and white women, and the types of sexual behaviors they engage in. Because of this, Black women do not have a healthy relationship with sex or healthy sexual relationships. The constant exposure to the negative consequences of sex overflows with stigma, stereotypes, and bias towards sex health that follows Black women throughout their lives. Such an approach not only makes Black women more closed off to sexual promiscuity but also affects how they view themselves and relationships, causing many to feel ashamed of their natural sexual identity and behaviors. 

Even in their youth, peers constantly monitor the sexual maturity of Black women. From parents to complete strangers, they are overwhelmed with preventative measures or encouraged to practice celibacy. Yet, when compared to the sexual maturity of men, Black men are commonly sexually active by the age of fifteen, showing the lowest median within Dawn Upchurch’s research article. In their adolescence, they are encouraged to partake in sex at a very young age, yet women are suppressed from exploring their sexual urges. Within these findings, there are blatant contradictions between the opinions of Black men concerning promiscuity and the slut-shaming of Black women versus their actions. This sex-negative culture that projects the unwritten rules and expectations on how a Black woman should behave sexually, of course, affects sexual freedoms but alienates them as well. The more aggravating aspect of this is the awfully high rates of Black women that are sexually abused by the age of eighteen (one in four), as seen in the Ujima Community’s research, as well as the common adult-ification and grooming of young Black girls, as well as the entitlement to their bodies, that excuses those perverted behaviors (they do not in any situation). Black women are hypervisible when they exude the same sex appeal that men forbade but are somehow invisible when they are physically or verbally assaulted for simply existing. 

As Black women grow more progressive and embrace their sex appeal with the aid of artists like Megan Thee Stallion and other public figures, they gradually redefine the terms “slut,” “whore,” and other terminology that is used to demean their sexual provocation. Such sex positivity and sexual autonomy through their quote-on-quote “oversexualized” music only further proves the double standard that men enforced within society. Regardless of what women wear, what they listen to, or how many sexual partners they have, there is no justification for the policing of Black women’s sexual expression. Yet despite these barriers, Black women continue to embody the enviable power over the compiling opinions of the patriarchy. Instead of allowing themselves to be defined by the stereotypical images projected by men, Black women are viewed through their own lens.

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LifestyleNewsOpinion

Comparison is the Thief of Joy

by Ulani Mafate
written by Ulani Mafate

(I wanted to start the following sentence with the phrase “like a lot of girls,” but truly, that’s a reductive statement, and only belittles my/our pain; I mention this in case anyone else often feels inclined to conform to this rather sexist statement.) 

I have always wanted to be pretty. Growing up, I believed that I was. But, with every year that passed, it’s as if I became more aware of all of the reasons that I wasn’t. I noticed those pretentious distinctions between myself, and the girls that everyone, peers, siblings, youth leaders, teachers, etc. called pretty. Typically, their hair was straighter, their skin was lighter, and there was nothing “too big” or “too small” about their face. I was not “the pretty girl.”

Of course, that in itself was never the issue. I remember having beautiful friends when I wasn’t hyper aware of beauty standards and the culture that surrounded it; and never once did I compare myself. What really hurt was eventually noticing the difference in treatment between them and me. When kids would throw things at my face, when guys would make me the butt of the joke, or when I would simply get ignored as soon as the “pretty girl” or the “lighter girl” was in proximity, I always noticed.

I ended up internalizing the pain that this caused me for so many years until I became comfortable viewing the world as a place that had no place for me. This view remained even when guys started taking an interest in me. I developed a habit of self-loathing and meditating on anger rather than letting go; the thought of the latter never even occurred to me. I know that this experience is shared among women of all racial backgrounds. But, as a black girl, and the only one in my family, my pain grew particularly rancid. In other people’s eyes, not excluding some family members, I had become “that black girl with a bad attitude,” hence no need to figure out why. 

As I grew into my late teens, my insecurities grew with me; I still compared myself to “prettier girls”, and in the mirror, still only looked at what wasn’t European enough. But, my knowledge of the origin was no longer at the forefront of my mind. All I knew was that I didn’t feel as good about myself as I wanted to; and the confusion as to why led me to blame myself, and thus inevitably led to depression. 

I wasn’t aware of how dangerous this way of being was until one day, I realized that I didn’t have any, nor was I able to make any friends. Even recently, I got into a relationship with someone I had wanted for years, but as soon as I found out that he had previously been in a relationship with the beautiful white girl we grew up with, whom I had always envied for having an insane amount of pretty-privilege, it triggered me so severely that I literally watched the hope I had for a future with him disintegrate into a familiar, lonely void. I didn’t realize how many years worth of trauma I had created by never addressing the root of my pain.  

It took an incredible loss to realize how much work needed to be done within me, that I may finally set myself free from this commercialized, commodified mode of comparison that has robbed me of relationships as well as the truth that I am my own kind of beautiful. I can make my own definition, and in doing so find the foundation that I’ve never had, SELF-LOVE. It’s a shame that I had to lose someone that I whole-heartedly thought the world of in order to realize this. But, because I was in need of so much self-love at this point in my life, the price inevitably stacked up pretty fucking high. Though after all, love always demands a deep sacrifice. 

I’m so glad that self-care and self-love has become a trend in this day and age; it means that little girls, little black girls will have a better chance of becoming aware of it’s vitality early on. I wish for all little black girls, resilience, no matter how the world treats them. 

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CampusLifestyleOpinion

Evolution of Party Culture (Post-COVID)

by Kamea Taylor
written by Kamea Taylor

Picture this: It’s a Thirsty Thursday, nearing ten o’clock at night, and you and your friends are making your way through Westwood looking for the location of the party invitation sent out that afternoon. Dressed in biker shorts, crop tops, and party sneakers, you and your crew are prepared for what the night brings.

Before the pandemic, I wouldn’t think twice about attending a party of fifty to seventy people in such a small space, but now with COVID and the recent disapproval of the traditions of party culture, let us rethink some of these decisions, as follows: 

1.If you wish to dance with someone, ask.

I wish subjects like this did not require an explanation, but here we are. I have experienced my fair share of unexpected and unwelcome advances from desperate men that wish to “catch ass,” but these actions are so normalized that it is not thought to be rude and intrusive. But now as I reflect, I understand how problematic and uncomfortable that can be for women who only want to enjoy the company of friends. The same goes for men as well. Though many assume that forcing men to dance with them is harmless, some do not come to parties to be harassed or provoked to dance.

2.No more sharing drinks. 

We should refrain from sharing drinks amongst a group of people, or rather, strangers. For one, that is truly a health hazard to share a drink with people you do not know, and two, in considering the pandemic and how these practices were generally distasteful, I can only hope that many of us do not partake in this once we are back on campus. This, unfortunately, includes the puff-puff-pass processes as well. If you do not know them or their whereabouts, please refrain from doing so. 

3.Larger venues 

 To all my fellow students that throw parties, please consider having a function at a larger venue, or outside. Thinking of all the clothes I sweat out (and not just my sweat), this would be great for better air quality but also a way to avoid the clustering of bodies and the unwanted exchange of fluids or deadly odors that unfortunately flourish in those spaces.  

This shift in party culture and etiquette will undoubtedly be safer but also improve the overall willingness to go to these functions with more certainty that there will be more space and less sharing of DNA. A good start to practicing these alternatives to safe parties would be to make a habit of having parties with smaller groups. Oftentimes you barely know half of the people going to these parties, let alone their recent whereabouts, and I am sure that only gathering with friends in a less cramped setting would make for a good time as well. Another custom I may suggest would be to bring your own drinks. This simple yet effective tip for one could save you money, but also would allow you to enjoy the drink of your preference. There are, of course, many other ways to practice safe partying but generally these suggestions are only for the safety and well being of you and your friends. 

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CultureOpinion

Thick Thighs Kills Confidence

by Kamea Taylor
written by Kamea Taylor

Society’s body ideals have critiqued Black women of all body types for generations. Ever since I was a young Black girl, I struggled for years with my weight, obsessed over thick thighs and a flat belly, and always thought of ways that I could lose weight. And though society’s projections have shifted to more of a fascination and appraisals for thicker thighs, I still find myself doing these things to fit those expectations. 

Such obsessions with the thick thigh movement have ultimately oversexualized Black women, denied and scrutinized the “fat upper pubic area” (FUPA), and belittled women who are genetically incapable of satisfying these social norms. And while on this quest to be Instagram thick, including these overwhelming factors, Black women have habitually fallen victim to body dysmorphia. 

Based on this educational article by the Anxiety and Depression Association of America, body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) is characterized by the obsessive idea or distorted view that one’s appearance or specific body part is severely flawed and thus warrants great measures to fix or hide it. This, of course, is no help to the standard of beauty that has morphed into this hypersexualized caricature only depicting the tiny waist, big hips, and huge thighs that are often assumed as natural. So Black women, the cause for such uprising fixation on curvy and voluptuous bodies, partake in the waist trainers, appetite suppression, weight gain pills, and even plastic surgery to fit such expectations. 

Besides, the image of how Black women perceive themselves is an important part of their identity, and they tend to be more questioning of self-worth. If you have thick thighs but not a tiny waist, you do not fit these standards. And if you have a tiny waist but not thick thighs, you also do not fit this standard. In many more cases, these standards perpetuate unfeasible expectations for women of all shapes and sizes. And since 2010, Black women have increasingly been seeking plastic surgery to mimic the hourglass silhouette of very famous celebrities like Kim Kardashian, who single-handedly represents the modern-day apex of plastic surgery normalization while using the black body as the muse.

While it may be difficult to succumb to the pressures of these popularized figures, we as Black women must remind ourselves that they are the staple. The blueprint. From the hips, the bust, and the curves of a Black woman, we are beyond glorified and the pinnacle of beauty. 

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